NATION

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Clamores de Sanctus Bellum (CLOSED ATTN PARDES; CDI; ICE)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]

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Itailian Maifias
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Founded: Mar 15, 2010
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Postby Itailian Maifias » Thu Feb 06, 2014 5:26 pm

General John Lynch GCO OLL ONS
Fort Akkadira, central Esrin Province
Sun's Dawn 5, 3E5 , 1100 hours [UDT-7]



John acknowledged all of the General's and high ranking officers, re-assuring General Khan that he'd address her concerns in due time and greeted the Caledonian general and then returned the friendly greeting from Greenville before asking them to all sit down at the elongated mahony conference table that dominated the center of the room. The room itself was decently large, approximately fifty yards in width and just as long in length, the conference table took up the center of the room, with the front wall dominated by several built in monitors on the edges of the wall while the center was occupied by a large central monitor. All were turned on but appeared to be in a dormant state, a 3D representation of the logos of the CDI and the Legion floating next to each other.

John waited for all six of the officers to sit down before snapping at one of his enlisted aides in the room, who promptly closed all of the shades on the windows of the room and flicked on the low LED lighting that briefly illuminated the room just enough to see everything and everyone. She then stepped outside and brought a cart into the room, with seven laptops, each emblazoned with the CDI logo with the sword of the Legion behind it, colored blue. The aide promptly distributed the military-grade laptops to each of the officers and Lynch promptly instructed them to open the laptops, at which point the OS would automatically boot up the system and display a digital map of the Itailia mainland. At the front of the room, John stood with a laser pointer in his hand near the large monitor as it flicked on and projected the same map, and he began the briefing. " Ladies, Gentlemen, thank you for coming. This briefing will take a bit, so you will find coffee, tea and refreshments behind you on the white tables at the back of the room. The laptops that were distributed have been programmed to hold all files relative to this briefing, you'll be able to search them by hitting the F7 key. Otherwise, they'll follow along with the visual presentations I'll be doing here on the main monitor. Operation Red Nepos is our primary plan for defending the Drakkar Province and essentially the whole Empire. The main proponent of this plan is of course, the Rubicon Line."

John paused and with the laser ran it over the line, which appeared in the form of a thick red line just a few fingers from the Rodarion border. " The Rubicon Line, which you were already all briefed on with the files my office sent over, was built about a decade ago and has subsequently been maintained since. If you watched the news, you will have noticed that the entirety of the Imperial Legion has been recalled home and deployed along the border. It numbers currently about four million in total, but we've deployed our most veteran Legions along the border, numbering just under a million soldiers. The Line's readiness will be fully complete in approximately five hours and at which point, it shall be ready for war. Gentlemen, we shall, we need, to hold them at this Line. To go over how the Line works, it's first phase is a large field of barbed wire, with hidden spotter outposts and racks to direct fire and act as human fire control. A few meters behind where the wire stops is a number of about five thousand hulls of old LY4A2 Wolfhound tanks which were pulled out of storage. Each of the tanks has been equipped with a remote control system and from there, operators in the various Castra's will use the tanks to fire upon the advancing enemy. Behind the tank network is a massive network of trenches with numerous pillboxes, bunkers, centers and firing stations which is where a majority of our men shall be stationed. Our goal is to ensure with fire from the trenches, Castra's and tanks that the enemy never breaches the wire. If they do, we hold them at the trenches. In addition to this, each of the 311 Castra's have built in airstrips, missile silo's and artillery emplacements, which will be used to infinitely shell the Rodarions to their heaven."

John sighed and then a secondary thinner line appeared on the map, blue in color, and went from border to border, by the cities of Arpissa, Leve, and Pezamy. " This is what we have dubbed the "The Net" and our secondary defense line, a fallback point should the Line fall. General Khan, I'm aware you have a high amount of mechanized elements, so we'd advise deploying those along with any similar units from your other forces at this secondary line. It'll be used if any stray breaches occur, such as a lone company or brigade. In addition, should the Line fall, we'll use this as the next point to wear the enemy down."

" Gentlemen, that is Phase I. Phase II is a rather simple Phase; while we're holding the Line and holding their full attention, do note the word full, Emmerian, Itailian and any other available Special Forces units will use deploy from various locations and perform a massive SEAD campaign. I'm sure you are all aware of the massive S-400 network they have managed to assemble and it is vital to Phase III that they are neutralized. Once the SEAD campaign is complete, instantaneously, thousands of bombers here in Itailia will be launched from airbases all over the nine provinces and execute a massive strike on the Rodarion lands. In your files, it will say we'll be targeting major cities and military installations. Any questions? "

Praefectus Gaius Oranius Laevinus
Palatine de Laevinus, Praefectus's Office
Sun's Dawn 5, 3E5 12:01 PM [UDT-7]


" They did what?!?"

The young Praefectus spit out his coffee at the middle aged political aide of his who just informed him of the dozens of attacks all over the city, primarily the massacre in the pagan district and the bold attack on the Imperial Police Authority's city headquarters. The attack was finally neutralized, but it left many dead. " They managed to kill around forty policemen before they were taken down. Similarily, we have hundreds of dead in Narcium and reports from police put the LRA and insurgents coming from the Laeceum District. "

" Shut it down. Get the Justicars in there, I want that district quarantined off immediately. Anything even moves with a firearm and they get shot. Get Barius on the phone if he's still alive, I'm issuing a Protocol 11 over the entire city. Also, have Sarah patch me into Don Flavius's office."

The aide nodded and within minutes, the phone on Gaius's desk was ringing, the ruler, one of the members of the Council of Ten, Don Flavius, on the other end. Gaius took in a deep breath before he took the red phone off of it's receiver and held it too his ear. " Sorry for disturbing you m'lord, but we have a situation here in Nece. It's gone hot; these insurgents just launched dozens of attacks all over the city. I've mobilized the Justicars to block off the Christian district, but the police have been neutralized with their chain of command and reaction stations taken down. "

The response was quick from the Don, no hesitation in his voice, and what he said made Gaius pale " The Order? You sure that's a wise idea sir? I've issued a Protocol 11 yes, but I have no desire to see this city become a war zo-"

One could hear yelling from the other end of the phone and Gaius went silent " Yes sir, I'll prepare the city and be at your Palatine in a few minutes."

The phone call was terminated and Gaius walked out of his spacious office and opened the double french doors, revealing a lobby and his secretary's office. " Sarah, send everyone home and tell them to get out of the city. Now. Also, have my detail ready, I'm taking the chopper to Diolia now."

Sarah nodded as the Praefectus was quickly surrounded by black clothed members of his personal security detail as they made their way towards the roof top chopper.

Eques Galus Titius Bato
Order of the Drake Chapterhouse, Diolia, Drakkar
Sun's Dawn 5, 3E5, 12:05 [UDT-7]


" Let's move it boys, wheels up in ten minutes! "

Galus set down the black phone that was tied into the Chapterhouse's intercom system and grabbed his TAG-34 rifle off of the table he had sent it on and quickly moved through the hallways, filled with dozens of his fellow brothers and sisters, garbed in black tactical wear and MPBAS armor vests, filled to the brim with magazines and their full combat load. Galus was apart of a unique organization, the Order of the Drake, which was one of the 10 Order's in the Empire. There was one Order per Great House, and they answered directly to said House. They operated in a grey legal area and were usually very mysterious, and as such, viewed negatively or feared by the public usually. Typically, they sat around doing intelligence work mostly but the order had just come down four minutes ago from the Don himself to mobilize to Nece and help exterminate the insurgency once and for all.

Galus's force was a respectable size, all eight hundred Knights from this Chapterhouse, as well as another twenty four hundred Knight's from Chapterhouses all over the province. Normally, they would load up in their C-10 Minotaurs and land in at the international airport in Nece, but reports had come in about a MANPAD shooting down an Arthuristan cargo plane that was attempting to land, so it was decided that the Knights would parachute in outside the city and then move into the city. They also had around three dozen LA-217 Reaver gunships on station to provide close air support within the city. Gods, the battle shall be quick, and glorious.

It took Galus just a few minutes to scour the building and ensure all of his men and women were on the awaiting C-10 outside on their private airstrip before jogging into the awaiting C-10 himself, a seat up top at the front of the plane saved for him by the pilot, who Galus waved on and thanked as he departed towards the cockpit. Within a few seconds, the enormous strategic lifter had already taken off, all the men and women inside solemn as the grave as they were prepared to do their jobs.
Last edited by Itailian Maifias on Fri Feb 21, 2014 9:44 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Rodarion
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Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Rodarion » Thu Feb 06, 2014 8:03 pm

Moreni Naval Base, Papal Republic of Rodarion
February 4, 2014


Captain Emilian Rubescu stood atop the conning tower of his Audacia class submarine, the most advanced submarine in the Papal Navy and in Pardes. Before his eyes in the coastal waters, the Fleet of Furious Redemption was preparing to sail out of the Sea of Orlessia and down south towards the Sanatasia Combat Sector as it was known to Papal Navy Command. It was a cold morning; Moreni was suffering these cold periods longer and longer now perhaps the world knew what was brewing. With each breath came the small cloud of vapour, Rubescu was calm, somewhat infuriated by the poor coordination of traffic coming out of the harbour.
Captain Rubescu was the commanding officer of Operation Argon, one of two operations aimed at inflicting an early and relatively severe blow to the CDI at sea. 32 submarines in total, 16 submarines for each operation, ten Praeventores class cruise missile submarines and six Audacia class nuclear attack submarines, a powerful force and a silent one at that.

Rubescu turned to see his trust XO, Lucian Ionescu nodding in silence, Rubescu nodded back and slowly climbed down the ladder into the bridge, the hatch above him locked shut. Around him state of the art computers lined the walls, his crew sitting silently doing their jobs. As Rubescu stepped to look at the sea charts, the boat’s engines hummed into action.

“Neînfricat, Apărător, Ceaușescu, Pios, Balaur, Florea, Blaga, Avramescu, Budești, Rudeă, Șerban, Rechin, Profanator, Brăila, Stellus all report in from the staging area sir” communications spoke out.

“Very well lets take out the Stăpânitor” Rubescu replied.

"Helm, ahead third, take ours on course zero-nine-two, once we pass the sea walls take us down to ten meters” Rubescu ordered softly as he took a cup of tea off a bridge officer.

"Aye, Aye sir, course zero-nine-two” the helmsman responded.

This going to be a long slow journey Robescu thought. A week, all he had was a week before the greatest war in Christendom’s history begins.

Latoagro industrial zone, Romulă, Papal Republic of Rodarion
February 4, 2014


“What?!” Darius Tudor, Manager of the TETRU Auto plant screamed out to a uniformed officer of the Papal Defence Corps.

“You are to cease all commercial and civilian production and change to the designated orders” The monotone officer replied, passing him a list of armoured vehicles the factory was to produce from today until told otherwise.

“I assume you’ve gone to the other plants in the area and asked the same?” Tudor replied.

“We have asked them to produce other types of vehicles for efficiency, as an employee of a patriotic and forever corporation I am sure you understand the duties of all citizens in the event of a crusade?” the officer replied slyly, Tudor saw the hidden threat within his words.

“Of course, I studied economics at university, I know what a Crusade Economy demands and this factory will meet the Papacy’s demands” Tudor smiled, as manager of 25,000 workers he had no choice, if he declined he and his employees would be sacked.

Dealverde Industrial Zone, Bacau, Papal Republic of Rodarion
February 4, 2014


“Yes of course, we can produce up to 50,000 rounds of ammunition for assault rifles, machine guns and so on every day. Anti-tank missiles, surface to air missiles and smart munitions will take time because of their technicalities” Lucinda Gheorgescu replied to the Papal Defence Corps officer on the other end of her office phone, she was the Zone’s general coordinator, the boss of 176,000 workers alone.

“Anti-ship missiles, well depends on the type. Most used by the Papal Navy and Air Force are TETRU made anyway... it would be a monthly quota not a weekly. 800 perhaps, that’s with risk to quality of course. Yes I understand, I will speak to workers, they’re probably more supportive of the Crusade Economy than anyone....”

Sudești Co-operative Farm, 153km north of Romulă, Papal Republic of Rodarion
February 4, 2014


"Who will collect the goods?” Viktor Rabaneu asked the Papal Army Officer, dressed in the iconic black, his boots were muddied from the cold winter ground, much to his annoyance it seemed.

"Police Officers and members of the Order of the Cross” the officer replied.

"The Orducii? Why them?” Rabaneu enquired back, concerned at the thought of those armed thugs running around the co-operative farm, upsetting the 800 families in most cases.

"The Papal Army will not have sufficient manpower to collect the required foodstuffs every year, effeciency is the sole objective of the Crusade Economy, surely you read the leaflet you recieved” the officer’s eyes narrowed, this was the eighth co-operative manager he had visited this morning and he was eager to return back to Romulă.

"Of course I have... but can they be trusted to be effecient themselves” Rabaneu countered back, the officer raised an eyebrow.

"Of course, they’re servants of the Papacy, I wouldn’t ask them when they arrive” the officer threatened, Rabaneu nodded, they shook hands and it was done.

Vatican Gardens, Romulă, Papal Republic of Rodarion
February 4, 2014


State President Codreanu walked slowly through the intracate gardens of the Vatican, to his right side was Cardinal Emilian Radulescu, the General Superior of the Orducii, an integral part of the Crusade. The two had spent the past three hours further discussing and ironing out the details of Operation Judgement, the invasion of Itailia.

"I understand preparations for Crusade Economy have begun” Cardinal Radulescu asked his President.

"Yes, some major factories have already begun mass production of aircraft, armoured vehicles and ammunition, but we still have time before other industrial sites change production” Codreanu smiled.

"Won’t we suffer shortages?” Radulescu enquired, he was a popular man and was vain enough to not want that threatened.

"Of course, but the people of this country are as patriotic and loyal to the cause as any soldier or Orducii” Codreanu smiled again, the plan was revised the previous day due to fresh intelligence reports on the nature of the Rubicon Line. He was some what more optimistic about the chances of securing a profound early victory.

"Will we break through Ionatan?” Emilian asked, he was a cautious man regardless.

"We will eventually, but as you know it all depends on timing and the success of the diversionary assault, as well as taking out key infrastructure and their airbases in the first hour of the war” Codreanu stopped walking and slowly placed himself ontop of a marble bench, Radulescu followed suit.

"Yes, the diversionary attack... it will cost the Orducii dearly, but that’s their job” Radulescu reassured himself, the Orducii was expected to suffer 35-45% casualties in the diversionary assault, the forces deployed for it alone.

"They think we’re stupid, they think we’re tactically inept, that will be their downfall” Codreanu responded, looking up at the overcast sky, the subtle rumble of jet engines echoed through the clouds, a break in them revealed a pair of RE-H2 fighters, patrolling the skies over the capital.

"Do they suspect our plans?” Radulescu asked again as he withdrew a cigarette from his black cassock.

"No, ISI is pretty sure they’re completely unaware of our intentions, if they were, they would have redeployed forces from Nece or a less important area, speaking of which, is the Exercitus ready for its rural war?” Codreanu finally turned the questions onto his Cardinal collegue.

"Yes, the Orducii has been in constant contact with the Exercitus cells in the rural areas, they will begin operations once the battle of Nece turns against Christendom” Radulescu spoke softly as he took a drag from his cigarette.

"We need them Emilian, without them our job will be a lot more harder” Codreanu nodded to himself at the seriousness of the situation.

"They have some 21,000 members in the rural towns and villages, some of which are located near or ontop of key road and railway links from the center of the country to the border, that will help no doubt” Radulescu smiled.

"This plan has alot of room for failure my dear friend, we just need speed, air cover and the firepower to carry us through” Codreanu sighed, he stared out onto the slopes of the Apostle Mountains that flanked the city on three sides, the small and large villas that lined the western slopes were tiny dots from this part of the city, but Codreanu knew inside those homes were families, children and grandparents, all with individual lives that would be destroyed should he and his army fail.

"When?” Radulescu asked the most important question.

"Soon my friend, very soon” Codreanu smiled and then stood up to carry on with his duties.

Radului Field, Vesarius Province, Papal Republic of Rodarion
February 4, 2014


Located 49km south of the border, was the main staging ground for the 88th Division, the Rodarian borderlands with Itailia were relatively flat, some hilly areas, but the majority of the ground to be seen was a mixture of sparse and dense forest, 20km south from the river, lining the entire Rodarian side was marsh and thick reed grass. Inside the tall grass, were Rodarian soldiers of the Papal Defence Corps covered in mud and sitting under anti-Infra red blankets, with thermal binoculars and regular binoculars and four A4 paper pads, their jobs to observe the border, citing coordinates for the artillery battalions when the day comes. The regular patrols of aircraft from the Castras were also noted down, all information would then be certified by ISI.

At the staging ground all vehicles and artillery pieces were covered in camouflage nets and anti-IR blankets, especially the surface-to-air missiles and tanks. Around the large numbers of vehicles, were small foxholes which themselves were covered by anti-IR nets and camouflage nets, inside them lived up to fifteen Papal soldiers. Luxury wasn’t something the Papal Army offered... ever. Some 15km south of the staging area, the 2nd and 3rd Motor Rifle Companies of the Division’s 1st Heavy Brigade ran through the sparse woods, firing off electronic tags at one another. They were practicing, the breaching of a defensive line after a heavy artillery bombardment. Private Lucian Hasdeu, of the 3rd Motor Rifle Company stood behind a think but broken tree trunk, behind him the OPFOR tasked to be Itailian, were holding the high ground and have HMG positions as well pre-sighted artillery and some ‘automated tank hulls’ (all of this is thanks to ISI’s satellites and UAVs). He took a deep breath and charged around the trunk, a pyrotechnic explosion forced him off balance, but he regained it, around him his squad and platoon moved as one firing off what shots they could at the HMG positions, the tension grew as they approached the automated hulls, two were taken out by well placed RGP-29 rounds. As they prepared to storm the highground... the loudspeakers roared to life.

“8 Platoon, you are now dead, cease exercise” the rusty voice bellowed out across the wood. Suddenly a camouflaged stocky man emerged from the flanking shrub.

“Hasdeu, why do you not call in Company artillery support?” Colonel Tartescu screamed as he approached the young private.

“It’s not my job nor were we the most successful unit sir!” Hasdeu replied as he stamped to attention.

“That’s right, you weren’t the most successful unit and damn right it’s not your job. 4 Platoon are the ones who would receive fire support, because they approached with cautious speed. Remember to move slow and focus on taking out those automated tanks and HMG positions, counter-battery fire from artillery battalions would be dealing with their artillery, so move swiftly but knowing what is to be done” Tartescu continued to scream.

“AGAIN” he roared down the loudspeaker and the exercise began anew.

Nece, Drakkar Province, Itailia
February 4, 2014


The day previous was it, the storm had been unleashed. Throughout the night, hundreds of Exercitus had been killed in open gun battles against the Justicars and the Police. But the Itailian forces hadn’t faired so kindly, albeit they could take it. The Justicars that moved through the streets, to engage the Exercitus were regularly attacked from multiple directions; from above, the sides, in front and behind, some squads had been unwittingly led into pre-planned ambushes and killzones, but at the end of the day the Justicars were getting the job done through training and firepower.

As the city’s police HQ burned, the city continued to fall into chaos. Narcium was becoming a bloodbath, over 500 Exercitus had entered the district since yesterday, although 33 Exercitus lay dead, the Pagan civilian death toll was rising rapidly, 250 had been killed in the rampage that was spreading street by street, albeit slowly at the hands of the Justicars and some Pagan militias. As the chaos escalated so did the violence towards the Justicars, snipers and IEDs began to grow in number across the city of 9 million, in the suburbs several neighbourhoods were claimed by the Exercitus, pickup trucks were being used as transports and homes belonging to Pagans were set ablaze, Nece was burning and the situation was going to get much worse by the day’s end.

Lohany, Drakkar Province, Itailia
February 4, 2014


As news spread of the growing violence, the Exercitus cells elsewhere answered the calls. In Lohany, the cells stepped up their actions, the suicide bombings and car bombings of the day, two of the former and three of the latter were aimed at the Police and Justicars, over the past week smaller isolated attacks had taken place, but the fight for freedom before God called for greater action.
Last edited by Rodarion on Tue Feb 18, 2014 2:14 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori"

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Arthurista
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Founded: Sep 04, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Arthurista » Fri Feb 07, 2014 10:26 am

Fort Akkadira, central Esrin Province

Lt General Khan listened to the briefing and sipped her tea. It has made good sense, so far. The line would attrit and slow down the hostiles, if not stop them outright. If any breakthroughs were achieved, however, her corps would intervene immediately. Compared to many contemporary land forces, which emphasise flexibility and modularity and transitioned to the brigade combat team concept, the Arthuristan People’s Army has maintained an old fashioned force structure optimised solely for one purpose and one purpose only: massed mechanised warfare on a continental scale. If the bastards do break through, she thought, we’ll teach them a lesson in mobile warfare they’d never forget.

Just when the briefing was finished, she received a text on her phone. She surreptitiously glanced at it and became aware of two important new developments.

(1) Nece situation escalated as foreseen. Operation Gladius in effect.
(2) Arthuristan 3rd Army Group activated. 12 divisions will join us within 7 days by sea and air. 54 more will arrive before the end of the month. You are nominated CO of the army group and breveted to the rank of Field Marshal effective 14 February.
VIII CG Corps HQ


She smiled, pocketed her phone, then stood up and spoke.

“General Lynch, sir, I have some news that you might want to hear…”

Operation Gladius – Nece

Over the past month, with the situation in Nece escalating day by day, VIII CG Corps HQ began to plan for the worse. Together with the Itailians and the Westerners, they came up with the plans for Operation Gladius, a coordinated multi-stage operation in which coalition forces would seal off the city, seize and hold open corridors which will allow civilians to escape the combat zone, then finally isolate and assault insurgent-held districts one by one.

On the Arthuristan side, things were set in motion as soon as the past few days’ string of attacks were brought to the Corps HQ’s attention. With Lt Gen Khan away on the conference, command devolved to the corps 2IC, Maj Gen Alan West. Without further ado, he activated the plan, sending the Arthursitan contingent on their way. The corps’ armoured recce brigade, with three battalion-sized armoured recce regiments and a similarly-proportioned tank regiment, were split up into squadron-sized formations and tasked to patrol the city’s perimeter, seal off all potential routes of communication for the insurgents.

For the actual assault, the primary unit responsible will be the 4th Parachute Division, now tragically minus its Pathfinder Battalion due to the shoot-down of the Boeing Globemaster. As the corps’ operational reserve, it was deployed as a whole against the city. Joining it was the 7th motorised division, minus one of its three brigades and a regiment of artillery, which will remain in the Rubicon Line. Racing up the motorways in their MRAPs, the two brigades that would take part in Operation Gladius should be arriving before long. Backing them up were two of the corps’ four artillery brigades, as well as the full might of the APAF Group deployed in theatre. Both are backed up by more than 100 heavy tanks borrowed from the Itailian Legions, providing close direct fire support for the assault teams.

Counterinsurgency has never been one of the Arthuristan People’s Army’s forte. Needs must, however, and every effort has been made to ensure its success. Even so, it is not unlikely that the parachute division will be badly mauled in the process. They were not facing merely badly equipped yobbos, but trained and equipped paramilitary personnel as well. Victory is assured, given the balance of forces, but how high would the cost be?

St John’s Fort, Arthurista

Even as the generals discussed their plans to repel the impending invasion, things were in motion in Arthurista. Under the contingency plan laid out, the entire Kingston Military District would be stripped of its standing garrison, as its army group is dispatched to Itailia. 12 divisions, all regulars, would go first, joining the Commonwealth Guards corps already in place to complete its first army. Transportation staff worked flat out to ensure that they arrive within a week. Personnel and even tanks and IFVs were flown into theatre by Lockheed Galaxies and Boeing Globemasters, although for the sheer quantity of hardware involved, the massive Loweport Class “interregional support ships” remained the keystone for the logistical exercise. By the end of the month, the whole army group of 54 divisions ought to have arrived in theatre. Their destinations were the northern ports of the Empire, such as Selenium, from where they would drive down to the front. To compensate for the standing force’s absence, an equivalent number of Territorial Army divisions will be gradually mobilised throughout Feburary. Their fighting quality, naturally, did not match the Commonwealth Guards and regular army divisions that would be departing, but nevertheless they would be formidable in their primary role in deterring a would-be aggressor. It was, in essence, a race against time. The storm is coming, that much is inevitable. Whether the much needed reinforcements will arrive in time is another matter.

Near Nece International Airport

The APAF Regiment is, in essence, the Arthuristan People’s Air Force’s ground defence element. The People’s Army and Navy often joked that they were little more than glorified security guards. Naturally, APAF gunners, as their personnel were called, disagreed vehemently. In this age of terrorism and assymentrical warfare, they said, they perform a vital function. APAF squadrons can act as elite light infantry, patrol aggressively and hunt down any marauders who dare attempt to attack combat aircrafts and ordnance of the APAF.

The truth is, of course, somewhere down the middle. The training and combat ability of the APAF Regiment has indeed improved significantly over the past decade. With the gatekeeping and checkpoint-manning functions handed over to MPs, APAF Regiment personnel are now gradually being recognised as among the exclusive club of Arthuristan elite forces, even if they remained firmly on the B-team.

The squadron, mounted in 17 up-armoured Battleaxe utility vehicles, spread out into small groups and began to scour the area. There might still be MANPAD traps in the area and they were tasked to clear them out before the airfield could be declared reopened. Above them, small RQ-7 UAVs circled. They could cover more ground than the squadron, had the benefit of being expendable, and could potentially trigger any remaining traps.

“Mercury 3, this is base actual. One of the birds just picked up something which looks like vehicle trails. It’s moving to investigate, but it’s potentially the bastards who set the trap in the first place.”

Flight Lieutenant Andrew Paison, commander of the squadron, responded immediately. “Copy that, actual. Please stream in the feed from the bird. If we do this swiftly, we can cut them off and ambush them. Let’s turn the table for a change, eh?”

Battlegroup Furious
South of Tarsius, Orlessian Sea


Commodore George Hale was not at all pleased with what the Admiralty had in store for his little battlegroup. His command consisted of a single Courageous Class light carrier, a trio of Type-44 Destroyers and an Osiris Class submarine. It was, in all consideration, a tripwire force, an expendable formation sent out here to test Rodarion's resolve with their new ADIZ policy. Ensuring the freedom of navigation, in the sea and in the air, has always been one of Arthurista's main foreign policy objectives. It was time to test how far they'd go.

The Commodore swivelled his chair to his left, picked up the phone and called his CAG.

"Ms Shotto, send out the CAP, please."

"Aye aye, skipper." She called back five minutes later. "CAP is away, sir."

As she spoke, the flight of four Tempests leapt from the ski-ramp of the light carrier, heading into the clear dawn sky. Matching the glow of the fighters' afterburner, the sun rose, casting a hue of red at the calm sea and the clouds. Blood red.

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Rodarion
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Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Rodarion » Sun Feb 09, 2014 5:50 pm

HHS Poitr Virtutea,
Fleet of Righteous Interdiction, 1,222km east of Rodarion,
Sea of Orlessia,
6 February 2014, 07:00am


Rear Admiral Radu Florescu stood upon the observation deck on his Virtue class aicraft carrier, the HHS Chalice of Virtue in English. It was a cold morning, the sun was just peering over the blue horizon, its light creating a red colour upon the flickering waves out east. Around his ship were vessels of one the most powerful and largest in Pardes, he had been in the Papal Navy since 1983 and how it has changed since then. For the first 8 years he served as a radar operator aboard an outdated destroyer, now he leads the navy's principal carrier group and captains one of the most advanced navies in Pardes, a good life he has lived in the Pope's Navy. Roaring over shot his head as two RE-H3 fighters darted eastward over the fleet. Florescu smiled at the sight. The waters were calm, ironic for the growing sense of the impending doom, being second Navy Chief of Staff Admiral Vladu Corlățean, he knew of Operation Judgement and was an essentional command in the naval aspect the operation.

As he returned the interior of the tower, the bridge was a silent scene as the bridge officers read the daily news off laptops, read status reports from the ship and just sat about drinking their tea. Florescu walked through the room towards a ladder that took him down to the ship's CIC, a dark blue lit room that boasted electronics and computers any flagship of a carrier group and indeed an entire navy would require. The room was split into three sections - Fleet Command, Naval Command and Land Command. The later was only used if the fleet was apart of an amphibious assault operation. He walked into Fleet Command, where these men were tasked with coordinating the entire Fleet's operations in light of their task to enforce the ADIZ from sea.

He sighed as the room too was silent. He walked over the large table in the centre of the room, the table was an interactive computer table, on the brightly lit screen was a detailed real time coverage of entire area, roughly 450km in diametre, the screen visualised the radar coverage of the entire fleet. As he flicked the screen around zoomed in and out to observe individual ships he sighed again - the ADIZ was a boring duty indeed.

As he stood to walk back to his wardroom, a radar operator cried out "Admiral, we have something."

"What is it lieutenant?" Florescu asked curiously.

"Hawk 2, an RE-H4MP, has reported four fast moving contacts some 787km north-east of our position on a course of two-nine-two" the young radar operator replied without looking away from the screen, his ashtray overflowing with ash and buts.

"Damn, thats 200km into the ADIZ" Florescu raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Thank you son, good job" Florescu smiled patting his officer on the right shoulder.

"Communications, order the Bacau to deploy their emergency response squadron immediately, put them on a course of zero-five-zero. They can recieve real time updates from Hawk-2" Florescu smiled with excitment.

"Aye aye sir....." a voice replied.

"Bacau confirms order, ERS will be in the air in five minutes sir" the voice spoke out again. Florescu nodded back sat on the swivel chair that lay beside the interactive table. His XO Commander Julius Zubesti came in from the mess hall, this portly officer was the same age as the admiral - 57 years of age, both had spent their entire careers together.

"Whats happening?" Zubesti asked as he finished swallowing a slice of toast.

"A maritime patrol has detected four fast movers heading in from the north-east, ive ordered the Bacau's ERS to intercept" Florescu explained as he was given a cup of tea from a young seaman.

"We'd better prepare ourselves then" Zubesti replied sternly, his friend and superior officer nodded in agreement, things would seen get interesting.




Within five minutes, six RE-H2 multi-role carrier fighters were launched from the deck of the HHS Bacau, a second Virtue Class Aircraft Carrier, the electro-magnetic catapualts made the process a whole lot quicker. Within ten minutes the small squadron was afterburning towards the RE-H4MPs, a Maritime Patrol variant of the RE-H4 naval bomber. The ERS was led by Captain Vladu Vladimiresu, a talented pilot and staunch Christian Nationalist. The small squadron was flying at its top speed of 2,756 kmph, Mach 2.25 was good enough, below them the blue mass was a blue blur the human eyes failed to gain a steady view of it due to the speed.

They flew low, at 250ft, hopefully blew whatever aircraft had breached the ADIZ. The pilots didn't care who it was or where they were from, they just want them to observe the ADIZ and fuck off out of the Sea of Orlessia it was Rodarian waters now.

"Hawk-2, this ERS-1 we are currently 230km south of your current position on course zero-five-zero, requesting update on intruders" Vladimirescu enquired as he nodded to his wingman on the leftside of his fighter.

"ERS-1, this Hawk-2, four intruders are mainting speed and course, they will be within visual range in twenty minutes, how copy?" the burley voice replied.

"Hawk-2, copy that, twenty minutes" Vladimiresu responded as he turned on his weapon's safety switch. He didn't want this to start off hairy. 10 minutes later, the four contacts were detected on the squadron's individual radar screens, the interception was a success - now for the hard part.

"Hawk-2, this is ERS-1 we have detected the intruders, we recommend you pull away to a safe distance incase this gets dirty. How copy?" Vladimirescu spoke out into his mask with legitimate consideration.

"Roger that ERS-1, good luck" the voice responded. Vladimirescu switched to the squadron radio channel.

"We're doing this professionally brothers, we'll come in slow came up along side them. If they fail to comply with the rules we'll drop speed, dart to their rear and lock on, how copy?" Vladimirescu explained in a elder brotherly sense, he cared for his fellow pilots who would not survive in this cold winter without them.

"ESR-2 copy, ESR-3 Copy...." the entire squadron of six replied back. As they finished the squadron pulled up rolling back over down to a steady altitude and speed, to the right of Vladimirescu were the four Arthuristan Tempests.

"Arthuristans... out here?" ERS-2 spoke up.

"They must have carrier out here somewhere, number 3, report in to the Virtutea. Number 4 report to Hawk-2 that they're carrier based, il try and contact these bastard pigs" Vladimirescu cleared his throat and repeated the script in his head over and over - he couldn't speak English.

"Arthuristan aircraft, this ERS-1 of the Rodarian Papal Navy. Please state your intentions and prepare to change course over" he boldy spoke out in broken English, he made sure it was on an open channel so they could hear him. This morning was going to be an interesting one.
Last edited by Rodarion on Tue Feb 18, 2014 2:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori"

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Orlessia
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Postby Orlessia » Tue Feb 11, 2014 6:48 am

Captain Marshall Frost KO
H.M.S. Killarney, Rhudinar-class Battleship [BB-76], 1st BBBG
January 14th, 2014, 7:05 AM


The early morning sun, just recently dawned, slowly crawled it's rays over the great bow of the Killarney, it's orange gaze illuminating the steel hull and deck against the magnificent blue waters that it broke through as it steamed through at twenty knots. The Killarney wasn't the only ship that the sun elected to shine down upon this morning, within a few moments, the whole Battle Group was set against the blazing orange horizon, certainly a beautiful sight to see, or at least Marshall thought so as he looked out from the bridge of his ship.

Marshall took another quick sip from the white mug that bore the ship badge of the Killarney over it's white color, the brown liquid inside finally cooled to just the right temperature, before he set it back down in the cup holder on his chair. Unlike the floating stereotype, his chair was not at the front of the room, no it was more towards the back, behind several rows of consoles and work stations that partially obscured his view out the magnificent windows at the front of the bridge, which displayed the whole ocean in front of them, and to the sides, he could see some of his escorts.

Marshall heard shoes on the stairs coming up to the bridge and he turned slightly in his chair to see his Executive Officer, a Lieutenant Commander Lara Charlton, carefully yet at a rather respectable pace, climbing up the hard steel stairs. She was a tall figure, taller then many of the men on board at six feet and a single inch, and she consistently worked out on a daily basis, which resulted in Marshall making many jokes about asking if he should transfer her to the Marines. She had served with him the last four years since he was given command of the Killarney and was one of the best officers he had ever served with; though he made sure to keep her on her toes. As she came into the bridge and approached his chair, he slyly commented on a welcoming " Morning Commander, get much sleep? "

Lara gave him a cold look, but both of them knew each other was smiling on the inside, and handed him a clipboard with a decent amount of paperwork clipped to it. Marshall gave her a peaked eyebrow and began reading it " Summarize it for me will you while I begin reading the novel "

" The remainder of the Battle Group reported in this morning at 0531, about half an hour after we left port. Vonsik and Eresby are having trouble keeping up with the formation, and their respective Captains have filed another request for more crew members. Vonsik only has about half of her intended compliment and Eresby has about forty percent. Additionally, almost all of the ships filed requests for resupply and I've sent a message to Admiralty asking for a supply ship to meet with us before we begin the exercises. I'd feel more comfortable the fuller our magazines are. "

" Agreed, I'll send another with my signature, maybe that will help expedite things or put a better engine on the supply ship in question."

" Hopefully sir. Additionally, the Ramor reported a jam in their X turret's central barrel when they were testing their new automatic loader, their Captain says the ship wasn't designed for an automatic loader and he's asking to remove it. "

" Does he even have enough crew to assemble manual loading teams? "

" He's confident he can trim some non-essential duties for them. "

" Well, go ahead and give him the green light, he know's that ship better then me, Gods only know he's held the command for nearly two decades."

The Ramor was a bit of a fleet legend, one of the oldest battleships in the fleet, she was launched in 1956 and had been honored with more then a dozen battle honours from His Majesty. The current commander had held the command for almost twenty straight years and was one of the more respected officers in the Navy, despite not holding a flag rank.

" Also Charlton, I'm going to have gunnery fire up the fore and aft tubes, do some test loading of our own. I'd rather not have those babies jam up if the Rodarion's decide to actually put some money where their mouth is."

Marshall sighed and continued reading the report, eventually geting to the page about the day's itenary. Their mission was rather simple really, despite all the politics behind it. His Battle Group, BBBG-2, along with CVBG-5 under the command of Commodore Mia Bowen of the HMS Langely, were to deploy to coordinates just about thirty kilometers off of the Orlessian coastline from the southern island chain, well within their own waters but also within the claimed area of the newly announced Rodarion ADIZ, and conduct a series of readiness tests. The first test was to have the HMS Langely conduct a series of combat air patrols in the nearby vicinity, testing the launching times of her deck crew, immediately after which, her escorts and the ships of BBBG-2 would conduct an simulated naval encounter using an electronic simulation device which would allow them to 'fire' guns and missiles at one another, to test the readiness of all ship's crew's and commander's; the Admiralty was very big on keeping the Fleet ready. Under the table, both Bowen and Marshall had been briefed by Rear Admiral Lewis Smith of the SOUTHCOM about the real purpose behind their reason. Bluntly put, Prime Minister North was not going to bow down and take it from the Papal Republic like his Labour predecessors had for more then a decade and this was a message to Rodarion to respect Orlessian soil.

Within a few moments, Lara returned, the message successfully sent and several duties attended to. " Admiralty wired back that one of Langely's supply ships will be ferrying over arms and some crew to our understaffed ships, should help relieve some of the burden. Additionally, we've arrived at the coordinates for the exercise and Commodore Bowen confirms she is ready."

" Excellent, Comms Officer, please radio the Langely and inform them to begin launching their CAP exercises. XO, met me in the CIC. All bridge staff, command is transferring to CIC, please conduct necessary routines. Officer of the Watch, sound General Quarters."

The Officer of the Watch, a Lieutenant for this shift, activated the intercom system that ran through the entire ship and began calling out " All hear this, now hear this, General Quarters, I say again, all crew General quarters."

On the bridge, most of the senior staff began shutting down their consoles and gathering their things, placing down headsets as they all headed three decks below in the main tower to the Combat Information Center, often abbreviated and referred to as CIC. While the bridge held all the necessary commands and consoles to command and control the ship, it was also exposed as being the top deck of the tower and the Admiralty realized this; they didn't want their capital's entire efficiency and senior staff being killed off with one luck Exocet. Therefore the CIC was designed into the ship, now fully integrated under the tower and below the thick hull of the ship, it'd take alot to compromise it. Unlike the bridge, it was set up very efficiently, consoles were set up on two desks that formed a semi circle, which a main display used to project the battle field in the center of the room, from here is where Marshall would command his ship. As he and his crew entered, the lights dimmed to a very low setting, so only the light from the displays of the computers and displays illuminated the room, enough to where one could still see what they were doing. As the last of his Senior staff filed in, Lara handed Marshall a refilled mug of coffee, for which he gave her a small smile, took a swig from and turned on the monitor, eager to begin the exercises.

The crew had already been informed of the drills, but they still ran to their tasks as if it was the real deal. Crew members were bustling all over the ship and you could see as the Killarney's four main triple barrel turrets, sixteen inch guns, turned forty five degrees till they were horizontal with her port side hull. Around the Killarney, her three escorts moved to surround her in a uncompleted circle while the much older Ramor positioned herself along side the starboard hull of the Killarney, a sole Havard-class frigate acting as her escort. Underneath the massive battle group, the two attack submarines attached to the battle group broke off from their positions and began monitoring for the single SSBN attached to the Carrier battle group, eager to 'take it down' early into the exercises.



Lieutenant Daniel Hunter
Callsign Apollo
Flight Deck, H.M.S. Langely, Lion-class aircraft carrier


" Apollo, exterior pre-flight checklist complete, how's the inside look? "

Daniel flicked through the various controls on the dashboard inside his cockpit, and then turned around in his seat to look at his RIO, or Radar Intercept Officer, a Lieutenant Alfie Bailey. Alfie gave him a thumbs up, his oxygen mask already clasped to the other side of his helmet and Daniel nodded, equipping his own mask and then speaking into the built in radio " Langely control, this is Apollo 1, we are all good to go, approaching catapult now."

Daniel slowly guided his Tomcat, it's engines just slightly warming up, blue flames coming out at the ends of the fans, to line it up with the steam powered catapult. Within a few seconds, his hook on the underside of his plane was attached to the catapult, and as he was cleared for take off, his wings pulled back into the hull of the aircraft's frame, he was launched away, kicking in his afterburners and powering his engines up to full as he was spirited away from the deck of his carrier. He quickly ascended to just a few thousand feet, where there was already the other five members of his squadron assembled in no particular formation. Within a few seconds, his squad commander, callsign Tank, came over the radio in his gruff voice " Alright everyone let's assume our standard V-like formation, forty degrees at the apex. Apollo, Bull, Jaws, take left, Mop, Cube and I will take right. Mop you got center. Wings out ladies"

The six Tomcats fanned out their variable geometry wings to a few degrees, not extending them all the way, as they assumed their ordered formation, and then banked to begin their various exercises that would cover numerous simulated engagements, the first being a patrol around the two battle groups, a standard CAP.

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Postby Arthurista » Tue Feb 11, 2014 12:14 pm

Orlessian Sea,
International Waters, south of Tarsius

"Arthuristan aircraft, this ERS-1 of the Rodarian Papal Navy. Please state your intentions and prepare to change course over"
As the accented wafted through his helmet’s radio piece, lieutenant commander John “stoner” Mason knew that things were about to get very tricky.

“Wakey wakey, boys and girls,” he signalled his flight, “our playmates have arrived.”

“How do they know we’re Arthuristans, Stoner?” asked one of his pilots, “we might as well be Itailians, for all they know, or Orlessians.”

“Balance of probability, mate,” another pilot chimed in, “only we’re silly enough to provoke the crazies like this.”

“Cut the chatter, you lot, and stay off the bloody channel.” Stoner was nervous, which translated to irritability. Time to assess the tactical options.

It was not lost on him that he was flying the cheapest tactical aircraft the APAF deigns to operate. The canarded Tempest was a fine 4.5 gen fighter, its latest upgrade program retrofitted many important technologies developed for the newest generation of stealth fighters. Nevertheless, Tempests were conceived from the start as a cost-effective light fighter to bulk up numbers, designed to be ‘good enough’ rather than ‘cutting edge’, a coup for the bean-counters, but a fact that could spell death for his flight if things go haywire out here in the Orlessian Sea.

Still, things could be worse. The newcomers gave them warning over radio, so they were not going to simply start shooting with BVRAAMs and ask questions later. Any engagement would probably take place within visual range. They could be picked up on radar at a relatively long range, which meant they were not a 5th gen design. The IRSTs tell them that they were coming in with burners hot, not supercruising, so they were not flying a top-tier Flanker derivative. Against either of those types, the Tempests would be in serious trouble. Now, it appears that if it comes to a shooting engagement, they might just survive.

The two most likely options for their opponents’ aircrafts were RE-H3s and RE-H2s. The Tempest, with its very high thrust engines and 3D TVC, could outfight the former, though the inbound Rodarians’ numerical advantage would probably compensate for it. A battle against the latter would be a close one. The twin-engine fighters could muster up more thrust than the Tempest, giving them a major advantage on the vertical dimension. In a horizontal turning fight, however, the Tempests held the cards. A fight at visual range would be fast and deadly, the chances fifty-fifty.

The best case scenario, Stoner reasoned, must therefore be no engagement whatsoever. Alas, the orders are to challenge the ADIZ. We can’t exactly back down, but neither can they.

“Rodarian aircraft, this is lieutenant commander John Mason of the Arthuristan People’s Navy. I regret to inform you that we are engaged in a routine combat air patrol operation and thus cannot comply with your request, over.”

Your move now, mate, he thought wryly.

“You know the drill people. Standard rules of engagement for interceptions. Do not lock unless they lock and don’t shoot unless fired upon. Time to earn our pay.”

APAF Experimental Aircrafts Development Centre,
Greenwich,
Arthurista


In a large, dark room underground, Two men and a woman huddled around a large screen, in front of which sat another man, cradling a joypad in his hands. Any passer by who merely glances at the group could tell that they were more than a little nervous. If he knew what they were doing, he might think the stress they were experiencing was more than reasonable.

The first man, a short, middle-aged fellow of visibly Ulthrannic extraction, wore light blue shirtsleeves, bearing the rank insignia of Air Vice Marshal. His name was David Mendoza, who was in charge of organising APAF’s next generation of black projects. The man standing to his left, dressed in yellow polo shirts and khakis, was Fred Myles, a high level executive of Arthuristan Dynamics’ aeronautics branch, and largely responsible of developing said black projects. The man in the chair was another APAF officer, one of the best test pilots of his generation.

This left the woman, who appeared to be in her early-40s. Few people could know, just by glancing at the unassuming-looking lady, that she was one of the most dangerous people in all of Pardes. To her friends and family, most of whom believe that she was a civil servant in an obscure department of the Foreign Office, she was known as Judith Deng. Her staff, however, knew her as ‘C’, or ‘Chief ‘- head of the lean but highly efficient institution that is the Strategic Intelligence Bureau.

The lady was a staunch advocate of HUMINT, and a long-standing opponent of newfangled techno-wizardry which have been demonstrated, time and again, to be less effective than case officers on the ground, handling agents to dig up valuable intel. In this instance, however, curiosity got the better of her, for the contraption that was being tested on that day was remarkable indeed.

Since the mid-1960s, the standard Arthuristan spy plane was the Firebird, an mach 3 unmanned aircraft propelled by a turbojet and launched from a specially-modified large transport plane such as the Lockheed Galaxy. It had the advantage of not needing a pilot, which obviated the risk of somebody being shot down and paraded in front of Ulthrannic and Tarsan TV, to the eternal embarrassment of the Arthuristan government. The downside of the Firebird, however, was that it was non-recoverable, a one-shot deal. This made every reconnaissance flight a seriously expensive proposition. This was made worse by the fact that the recovery of the parachuted canister of priceless intel was often a hit and miss affair. On multiple occasion, more than APAF cared to count, millions of pounds’ worth of taxpayer money was lost in the Central Ocean and never seen again.

Spy satellite technology matured over time and proved itself to be immensely useful. Orbital mechanics, however, dictated that they could only take snapshots, not mount surveillance over a period of time, a serious limitation in some scenarios. The RC-125 and the Global Hawk proved to be valuable assets, but neither were particularly survivable in hostile airspace.

It was in this climate that Project Firestorm began in the late-80s. It has taken more than twenty years to develop the technology enough to produce eight prototypes in 2010. Two were lost within six months, victims of some previously unforeseen flaws in the design. As the product improved, attrition rate dropped steadily. Still, valuable airframes were lost and by early-2014 only two remained. Now was the time for the acid test. If this trial run was successful, Mendoza can finally tell MINDEF that it was ready for low rate initial production. It was glory or career disaster for more than a few individuals.

“We’re lifting off now,” announced the test pilot as he gently applied the throttle and eased back the stick. Thousands of miles away, at an airfield north of Paestius, Rasha Province, Itailia, Firestorm-1 began the type’s historic first operational flight. The tension in the room was palpable indeed and everyone seemed to take care not to make a sound.

By the time the aircraft reached the Orlessian Sea, the four afterburning turbojets had taken it to mach 3. The engines cut off, to be replaced momentarily by the roar of the scramjets as slush methane was converted into monstrous power at a phenomenal rate. Flying at Mach 4, the aircraft sped over Rodarion’s vaunted ADIZ, perfectly timed to coincide with the sortie of the Light Carrier Group Courageous.

The people in the room felt like cheering – the Firestorm has worked like a charm, so far. “Let’s see them try to intercept that!” exclaimed the Air Vice Marshal with belligerent gusto, followed by a spate of nervous laughter.

If all went to plan, it wouldn't be long before the drone reached its top speed of mach 6, at an altitude of 40,000m. After gaining some distance into the Orlessian Sea, it would bank sharply to the right, taking it over the centre of the Itailian-Rodarian border at the Rubicon Line, and the massed armies of the pope, before finally landing back at the airfield from whence it came, completing its triangular course of some 8,400km.

That was, of course, if everything worked according to plan. They’ve done everything they could to keep Murphy’s mischief at bay. Whether it was enough to keep disaster at bay was another question altogether.
Last edited by Arthurista on Wed Feb 19, 2014 7:28 pm, edited 13 times in total.

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Postby Rodarion » Mon Feb 17, 2014 1:15 pm

Mare Înșelăciune, Rodar-Itailian Border
6 February, 2014

It was a cold and dark evening, the stars and moon were blocked by thick imposing clouds that hung relatively lower than usual. This winter was a long one, especially for northern Rodarion which was always basking in warm sunlight, even in winter albeit with a slight chill in the wind. The area along the Vesarius River had been silent since the Red Christmas bombings, it was as if the entire local bird population knew what was coming and remained mute in anticipation of the impending death and destruction. Regardless of the weather and the atmosphere, the Papal Army worked ceaselessly and tirelessly to prepare for Judgement Day.

Private Ion Lacatus stood on top of a wooden box shaped in the figure of a Type 90 main battle tank, around him were 350 others erected late at night, under thick cloud cover to avoid satellite detection and to limit the sight of stealth drones used by the CDI memberstates. Behind this wooden beast, two other soldiers dragged a spade through the cold mud to simulate tank tracks, this was repeated with every false tank present.

Lacatus sighed, he hadn’t slept properly for three days. His Brigade was responsible for the construction of fake tanks, APCs, IFVs and artillery guns. The Papal Army also deployed disused artillery guns from the 1970s which were placed in storage for emergency use, their barrels were extended and the wheels replaced to have them simulate modern towed howitzers, but this was just a tip of the iceberg.

Lacatus and 35,000 other soldiers of his rank worked to bare bones to erect fake airfields and supply depots, fake TELs that looked identical to HQ-9 and S-300 SAMs were deployed in key locations along the border and were sitting beside 30 year old radars with active signatures. Fake pontoon bridges were also deployed some 2km south of the River along with hundreds of dingies and wooden boats.

The real forces were delicately hidden, beneath artistic camouflage nets, anti-IR blankets for running SAMs and self-propelled guns. Vast industrial cites in towns and cities along the river were taken over by the Papal Army and Papal Defence Corps and used to house vital supplies, petrol tankers were hidden from sight under the same means as tanks and other armoured vehicles. Infantry units were constantly on exercise, which had been a regular occurance over the past few weeks, aircraft re-deployments were taken at erratic times and with irregular numbers each move, the pieces were falling into place.

Mare Înșelăciune – Grand Deception, make the enemy look at what is not there, make the enemy look at what does not exist thus looking away from what does exist – right at their doorstep.

Alerting you and your family - A television message brought to you by the Ministry of Christian Guidance and Culture

"In the event of a conflict between the Papal Republic and the Central Initiative Defence countries, Rodarian cities and other urban areas may come under threat from either missile or air attack. The following 90 second message is aimed to alert you and your family to the warnings that indicate either of the two.

In the event of a missile strike, the siren that will be played out across the threatened city, town or urban area will sound like this ***********. Note that the siren is of a high pitch and is quick to change volume. When this sounds, take cover... take cover inside your home if possible – underneath a table or under the stairs – if you have a basement go there as quickly as possible. DO NOT go outside until the All Clear Siren is sounded. DO NOT help anyone outside, you put you and your family at risk. The All Clear Siren sounds like this **********, as you can hear – it is a constant tone of similar pitch from the first siren. Remember this well – protect yourself and your family.

In the event of an air attack, this siren will sound ********, as you can tell it is a lower tone and slower to change volume. In the event of an air attack, you should take you and your family to nearest Local Air Defence Shelter for protection, the siren gives you a 15 minute of an impending attack. Should you be out in public alone, please following the previously stated instructions. Do not hestitate, enter the shelter in an orderly fashion. Remeber this well, protect you and your family.
And remember, to go against the Church is to go against God – Deus Vult”.

Emergency Response Squadron,
Fleet of Righteous Interdiction,
376km north-east of the carrier group


Vladimirescu was taken aback by the Arthuristan's response, he sat there silently for five seconds, no more and no less. Upon the fifth second he snapped into action.

"ES-2, drop speed and pull up to their rear, maintain speed to keep a distance of 15km. Rest of ESR we'll maintain a parallel course with them, ES-3 contact home, tell them we're going to need some B variants up here if this goes to shit" Vladimirescu ordered about. Within three seconds, ES-2's plane darted backwards as the rest of the squadron roared ahead, the second RE-H2 of the squadron rolled northwards, pulling itself up to level altitude some 14.32km east of the Arthuristan squadron, they're engines to ES-2's face.

"Lieutenant commander John Mason... this is Captain Vladimirescu of ESR-1, I will ask you to change your course one more time. You have breached the Air Defence Identification Zone and have refused to cooperate. You will change your course immediately, or I and my squadron will be forced to operate under the Emergence Response Protocol of the ADIZ, how copy?" Vladimirescu said more boldly and assertive than before, his left thumb slowly tapping the trigger for the two 30mm cannons on either side of the fusilage.
Last edited by Rodarion on Tue Feb 18, 2014 2:27 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori"

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Postby Arthurista » Wed Feb 19, 2014 11:01 am

3rd flight, APNS Furious Air Group
Orlessian Sea,
International Waters, south of Tarsius


"Lieutenant commander John Mason... this is Captain Vladimirescu of ESR-1, I will ask you to change your course one more time. You have breached the Air Defence Identification Zone and have refused to cooperate. You will change your course immediately, or I and my squadron will be forced to operate under the Emergence Response Protocol of the ADIZ, how copy?"

Hearing that over the radio, Mason cast his mind back seven years, back to his very first lecture at the naval academy. He was a 22-year old cadet, freshly graduated from university some three months before. In front of him, slowly plodding his way up to the podium, was the honorary commandant of the academy who, as a young lieutenant and commander of a torpedo boat during The Great Fascist War, had won the Cross of Glory for courage in action.

“Does anybody here know who Captain John Frelin was?” asked the veteran, his voice sonorous through the microphone despite his years.

There was a minute of slightly awkward silence before a girl ventured to answer. “Sir…he was the commanding officer of a frigate during the Viceroy’s War, sir.”

“Very good, and do you know what happened to him?”

“He was shot, sir. The admiralty ordered it.”

“It was, of course, one of the most controversial acts during that war,” continued the veteran from the podium. “He had a wooden sixth rate frigate. He faced a 48-gun Ulthrannic steam ironclad. No reasonable person, nobody remotely sane, would believe for a second that he stood a chance in a fight. He reasoned thusly, and retired, without having fired a shot. He was court martialled under the Articles of War and executed by firing squad. What was his crime? Was it because he retreated? Was it because he lost?”

Another pause, then somebody stood up and yelled from the back of the hall. “He failed to do his utmost, sir!”

“He failed to do his utmost!” The old man repeated, visibly animated now, “that, boys and girls, is the first lesson we are teaching you here in this place. Later on, you will learn about missiles, engineering, the art of tactics and command. Before we teach any of that, however, we must first impart this very simple principle: Arthurista expects you to do your duty, no matter the odds and never falter. Don’t you ever, ever forget it.”

Now, it was him and his flight to not let the side down.

“If the oppos make any hostile moves, Bingo, Rocket, you two break right, Hamster, go left. Standard close-range drill. You guys know what to do.”

After his flight confirmed that they heard the message, he signalled the Furious for reinforcements – another flight of four aircrafts should be flying CAP as well, and they ought to be able to react immediately. Then, and only then, did he begin his reply to the Rodarians.

“ESR-1, solid copy. Unfortunately, we are unable to comply for reasons already stated. Please also be advised that any hostile acts against our aircrafts may lead to proportionate defensive measures on our part. Over and out.”

Alea iacta est, Mason thought, hopefully, if this does go down, I won’t be used as a negative example at the academy…

VIII CG Corps HQ,
Drakkar Province


“How the hell did they get these images?” asked Brigadier John Doyle, gazing at the printouts before him, spread across a wooden table.

“It’s thermal, but quite a bit clearer than what I’ve been used to,” said his XO, major Alan Way, “look at the details, boss. Tanks, APCs, arty, fuel and ammo dumps.”

“You don’t buy the new satellite story, either?”

“Ours’ not to reason why, boss, or how, for that matter;” said the major, “these are thermal images, right? The tanks’ engines are cold.”

“What’re you thinking? Fakes? Dummy tanks?”

“Could be. But look at the details, though. If these aren't the genuine articles, they’re very elaborate replicas. And besides, maybe they're trying to conserve fuel and kept the engines off once they're in position.”

“And anyway, see here? Tracked vehicles made those, I’m sure of it. And see the batteries here, and here, towed guns and Grad. I’d say this looks like a key breakthrough sector.”

“So that’s their plan? Diddle, diddle, straight up the middle? Right into the Rubicon Line and the valley of death?”

The brigadier looked thoughtful, but couldn’t come up with a good reply. There was a small chance that this was a huge, elaborate scheme of strategic deception. But could he afford to tell the higher-ups that, the risks be damned?

“Maybe theirs’ not to reason why, either.” There’ll be a lot of doing and dying before this whole mess is over, he thought glumly as he tossed the print back into the pile on the table. "Send these over to our friends, see what they think. My opinion is that they have at least a whole army group, right there. That's the schwerpunkt, and by the gods, we've identified it."

"Let's hope you're right, boss."
Last edited by Arthurista on Wed Feb 19, 2014 4:52 pm, edited 9 times in total.

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Rodarion
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Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Rodarion » Wed Feb 19, 2014 6:02 pm

Emergency Response Squadron,
Fleet of Righteous Interdiction,
354km north-east of the carrier group



“ESR-1, solid copy. Unfortunately, we are unable to comply for reasons already stated. Please also be advised that any hostile acts against our aircrafts may lead to proportionate defensive measures on our part. Over and out.” The Arthuristan's words cut through Vladimirescu like a knife, immediately the anger began to build up inside him. How dare these arrogant bastards test us like this, who do they think we are Tarsans? Baharaqis?

"ESR-2, fire off a couple of rounds over their lead's port wing, nice and safe" Vladimirescu ordered calmly.

"ESR-1, home has confirmed reinforcements, two squadrons of 2Bs are inbound, squadron of Archangels is being fueled and will then be sent up. Hawk-2 has confirmed our message and is heading on course towards suspected Arthuristan carrier over" a voice suddenly spoke into Vladimirescu's ears.

"Copy that, get ready brothers, remember your training and remember what we're doing this for" Vladimirescu reassured his pilots. As he did, he remembered the words of the Chaplin aboard the HHS Bacau, his carrier.

___________________________________

"Remember dear pilots, what we are here for. Upon these waves are ships of nations and people who would use them to unleash hellfire upon our cities, our homes and families. To them, we are nothing, we nothing but a second world shithole that talks the talk but does not walk the walk, but we shall prove them wrong should they dare test us. They think... they can walk over us... they think we're no different from the coloured bastards in Baharaq or Talibastain, we are not. We are strong in our firepower, abilities and we are strong in our will to defend God's Kingdom.

May I borrow our dear air force friends' motto - God's will shall be borne upon swift wings, that my brothers is our motto too. Do not hestitate, do not show any remorse and do not freeze when the time comes. They chose to test us and we shall, we must prove our resolve. God is with us and he wills it, God will guide you up in the clouds and he will deliver a cowering enemy".

___________________________________

"Firing warning shot now sir" ESR-2 replied.

He lifted his control stick slightly, pulling his aircraft to a higher altitude than the lead Arthuristan aircraft. He squinted his eyes as the crosshairs for his two 30mm cannons sat neatly over the Tempest' left wing. He took a deep breath and pushed his thumb down upon the red button. His planed roared as 100 rounds from his two cannons snapped out and over the Arthuristan's wing. He may not see the rounds but he would certainly hear them pass his cockpit.

"Mason, I will not warn you again" Vladimirescu snapped, he threw away politness and convention. He wanted this
străin
and his squadron away from the Papal Republic...

Mare Înșelăciune, Rodar-Belfrasian Border

"My fucking back" Private Gragea cried as he unplugged the tube from the now inflated Type 99 dummy tank. These dummies boasted near identical traits of the Type 99 but above all it had the exact same heat signature. At $3,350 a piece, these dummies were dirt cheap compared the actual tank itself. Although the Papal Army still operated wooden dummy tanks and guns, these inflatable ones were much more of use, just like on the border with Itailia, entire divisions of dummy tanks were set up in random areas along the border, over 5,000 dummy tanks had been set up at 6 different locations along the Itailian border, over 50km away from actual breakthrough points in each direction, the same went for the Belfrasian border.

Actual tank units were also deployed in random spots, though these were limited to brigade numbers. T-72s and unservicable Type 90s were parked in their hundreds along roads in two different locations along the Belfrasian border, wooden dummies of IFVs and APCs were deployed, covered in sheet metal they were better than outright wooden ones. By the 10 February, there would be over 18,000 dummies, both wooden and high quality along the Rodar-Itailian border and 11,000 along the Rodar-Belfrasian border.

Regular foot and mobile patrols were ordered to take place along certain areas of the border, to immitate scouting units, some soldiers openly took pictures of the border with cameras and camera phones. Though this would be a complete waste of time if the Belfrasians weren't looking. But the Papal Army was sure as hell they were.

"When sir, when does it begin?" Gragea asked his sergeant, who stold calmly and quietly beside a Type 90 tank, looking up at the cloudless sky.

"Soon Gragea, soon" the man replied, smiling down at his worker ant of a private.

Alerting you and your family - A television message brought to you by the Ministry of Christian Guidance and Culture

War is a possibility. Threats to your life and the lives of your family members are real. The CDI wants to wage war upon us, the CDI has foresaken its role for peace and harmony for aggression, tyranny and the wish to exterminate all that is Holy. The CDI wants to kill YOU, they do not say it, instead they blame the Papal Republic for the current state of affairs - but it was them who killed half a million of us, it is them who rejected our calls for justice, it is them who rejected our calls for diplomacy, it is them who wants war.

You must be made aware of the danger they pose to us and all that is the Lord's Kingdom on Earth. They threaten us all with their arrogant delusions that we are weak, insignificant and incapable of defending ourselves, Christendom and the faith that the Lord died for.

But the Mother Church and her Government and her Armies fight everyday to protect you and protect you it shall until the end. The Church protects you, feeds you and cares for you. When the time comes, do not cower in fear, stand firm. Stand firm beside the Holy Father, stand firm behind the Papal Armies and the Papal Air Force and Papal Navy, support them, support our troops, support the Crusade.
Last edited by Rodarion on Wed Feb 19, 2014 6:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori"

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Arthurista
Minister
 
Posts: 2312
Founded: Sep 04, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Arthurista » Wed Feb 19, 2014 7:24 pm

3rd flight, APNS Furious Air Group
Orlessian Sea,
International Waters, south of Tarsius


“Shit, they’ve opened fire!”

Being shot at definitely qualified as a hostile move, reasoned second lieutenant Marie Cornwell, callsign Hamster and pilot of an ]Arthuristan Dynamics Tempest, remembering her orders from the flight leader only moments before. As per plan, she broke left immediately, followed a fraction of a second later by Stoner, while Bingo and rocket broke right.

Gain altitude, she remembered the training, at close quarters, height is your friend.

She straightened up her plane to level with the horizon before yanking her stick backwards and to the right with all her might. The plane climbed and rolled at the same time, putting her higher than the Rodarians, but flying at them instead of on a parallel course. An Immelman turn perfectly executed.

She didn’t need to look to tell that her flightmates have all done roughly the same. They’ve trained together long enough.

“Weapons free!” came the long-awaited order in her helmet.

“Acknowledged!” she cued up a pair of ASRAAMs and sent them slashing towards the Rodarians, her helmet mounted display and the missiles’ lock-on after launch ability reduced the entire engagement cycle to less than three seconds. In her peripheral vision, she discerned brief flashes of orange glare not far from her – evidently the other three Tempests did the same as well.

In the lead fighter, Mason desperately radioed the Furious’s CAG for reinforcements.

“Spurry, this is Stoner,” the ship’s callsign is a contraction of her nickname, the ‘APNS Spurious’, “we were engaged by Rodarian Fullback-Bs. Send in the reserve flight, now!”

HQ , 4th Parachute Division, Arthuristan People’s Army
Outskirts of Nece


Major General John Tennants has had a really awful few weeks. First, he had to organise the division’s airlift to southern Itailia at record speed. Then, his feet having barely touched the ground, the Boeing Globemaster had to get itself shot down by a MANPAD trap. Most of the division’s pathfinder battalion was lost and, with it, much of its organic reconnaissance capability, not to mention some of the best-trained combatants in the People’s Army.

And now, things were about to become even messier.

“Why hasn’t the ammo arrived yet?” The division’s organic artillery brigade of 105mm howitzers constituted a significant part of its striking power, which being lightly armed paratroopers wasn’t much to begin with. Every little bit was needed.

“Sir, the roads are rather congested, to say the least,” said the harassed-looking logistics officer, who promptly whipped out his hardened tablet showing a real-time stream from the Global Hawk circling overhead, “look, refugee traffic is really heavy and concentrated on these large trunk roads. Our units are still coming up these routes and two brigades from the 7th Motorised are arriving along these roads, plus two-thirds of their arty. We’re doing the best we can, sir.”

“Can’t we use the bloody Chinooks? Surely they can get all the hauling done in no time.”

“They can’t come within 12km of the city, sir.”

“What?”

“Corps HQ’s orders, sir. After the Globemaster they’re scared shitless of MANPADs, and intel suggests that the insurgents in the city have quite a few. They’ll have to drop off the load 10km from here, then we’ll have to organise trucks to bring them to the batteries. We’ll be back to square one, sir.”

“Damn it,” he swore. Ahead of the paras, other coalition units have already begun preliminary moves against the city. The corps’ armoured cavalry squadron was already patrolling large sections of the perimeter by squadrons and troops. Aided by drones, they were to isolate the city, making sure no reinforcements for the insurgents could go in and nobody armed could sneak out.

“Call me the second the ammo reaches the batteries. Tell your people to hurry up, we haven’t got all day, now, do we?”
Last edited by Arthurista on Wed Feb 19, 2014 8:03 pm, edited 6 times in total.

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Rodarion
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Postby Rodarion » Wed Feb 19, 2014 8:11 pm

Emergency Response Squadron,
Fleet of Righteous Interdiction,
344km north-east of the carrier group


"Shit, break away, break away!" Vladimirescu screamed as he threw his RE-H2 to the right, as he did so his aircraft launched flares to distract the incoming missiles. His squadron scattered downwards towards the sea, sadly ESR-2 was too slow to react, as he broke away an Arthuristan ASRAAM struck his rear starboard engine. The explosion tore away at his rear tail wings and the aircraft rolled and turned down towards the ocean. He screamed and smashed his fists on the ejection handle but nothing, it was jammed, his entire aircraft was broken from the blast... he was dead within 10 seconds.

The rest of the squadron rolled back up to face the enemy who fired upon them without hesitation. Vladimirescu pulled his aircraft back up to matching altitude, as he did so, his AESA radar confirmed 'lock on', he retaliated by launching two Python AAMs towards his target. His helmet display showed three other comrades firing back at the Arthuristans in whatever position they found themselves in, would two for each target a two second delay between each missile hopefully beating their counter-measures by timing.

"Bacau actual, this is ESR-1, we've been attacked by the Arthuristan squadron. ESR-2 is KIA, I repeat ESR-2 is KIA, requesting immediate assistance!" Vladimirescu roared as he pulled his aircraft up further after launching his salvo.

"Copy that ESR-1 - two Archangel squadrons inbound to your location. You have a sqaudron of Bs and RE-H3s also inbound also, stay tight" the voice replied with a hint of shock.

"Hold tight brothers, help is on the way. Proper help, we'll kill these fuckers no matter what" he bellowed into his mask. His squadron chased down the Arthuristans, the aim was to try and keep them with their engines facing them, if they couldn't rise up to 17,000 meters, the RE-H2 beat the Tempest in altitude, that way it would keep them down as the VR Archangels made their way.
"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori"

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Arthurista
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Founded: Sep 04, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Arthurista » Fri Feb 21, 2014 5:11 pm

“Break! Break! Break!” Mason heard Rocket yell through his helmet’s microphone. After launching their salvoes of ASRAAMs, the flight scattered, as per plan, with Mason’s plane doing a rapid split-S and sped away.

A turning dogfight, as the doctrine was repeatedly drummed into the heads of Arthuristan combat pilots, is for mooks. In a close range engagement, use kinetic energy to your advantage. Climb, slash, and run, rinse and repeat.

Evidently, however, the enemy were in hot pursuit or, more accurately, their munitions were.

Evading incoming missiles is no easy feat. The Tempests’ thrust vectoring allowed them to turn tighter than many older missiles. The Python 5’s moveable fins made them a match in terms of manoeuvrability. Likewise, flares were a counter to older heatseekers, but imaging electro-optical guidance has rendered them much less effective. Where the machines are equally good, skill and luck have once again come back into play.

Mason had no time to observe what his wingmen were doing – saving his own arse consumed the entirety of his attention. He held his course as the missile bore in, before throwing his stick forward and dropping like a stone, trading the altitude he previously gained for speed. The sudden manoeuvre made his pair of Python 5s lose lock, which wandered off and self-detructed not far from where he was merely second before.

By the time he checked again, only two blue dots remained from the previous four – Rocket and Bingo have disappeared from the screen. Their search and rescue beacons were evidently blinking, which meant that they ejected and, hopefully, survived – being propelled by rocket motors out of a stricken plane was hazardous business.

The show must go on. He and Hamster had six ASRAAMs left between them, and even before their evasion manoeuvres they’d designated the three surviving Rodarian planes with their helmet mounted sights. With cries of "fox two!", they now loosed their salvo, sending their Parthian shots over the shoulder at the enemies behind, while gunning their aircrafts at supersonic speed northeast – straight towards the direction where the second flight ought to be supercruising from.
Last edited by Arthurista on Fri Feb 21, 2014 7:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Itailian Maifias
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Postby Itailian Maifias » Sat Feb 22, 2014 1:35 pm

Eques Galus Titius Bato
Nece Police Department Headquarters, Nece, Drakkar
Sun's Dawn 5, 3E5, 12:45 [UDT-7]


The young Knight in front of Galus peered around the corner of the office building that Galus and his squad was taking cover behind, all of them holding their AR9R1 SpecOp carbine's at the ready, as the Police had reported contacts with the Exercitus Christo, apparently they had fired an RPG into the lobby of the Department's headquarters and then launched an assault on it; Galus was here to figure out if it was repelled or if it succeeded.

The young man was taking his time, so Galus moved up the line and pushed him back, shooting him a glare and looked around the corner for himself. Several cars were parked along the side of the road or abandoned in the middle of the street and by the Police Headquarters which was half way down the street Galus could see debris, pieces of wood and dry wall as well as what looked like the steel frame of a door and shattered glass, blown out onto the street. He raised his rifle and pointed it forward, the squad behind him advancing in a diamond formation. Galus spoke into his headset, speaking to the Operator in the E-11 AWAC's circling the city. " Admiral, comms check."

It took a few moments before he heard a reply in his headset " Copy that Ignis 1-1, read you loud and clear."

" Copy, can you patch us into the NPD comms network, we're approaching their HQ now."

It took a few moments before he heard a click, signalling a combination of the Order's communication network and the NPD's, and Galus spoke into it as he approached the embattled HQ building. " This is Ignis 1-1 to all call signs, we're a six man squad by your HQ's front entrance. Any one home? "

They stopped outside what was left of the front door area when he heard a husk, deep voice over the radio " Ignis 1-1 this is KL 35, attack on the HQ was repelled, we've set up our main command station near the Narcium district, in a bakery across the street from it's first zone. If you can assist, Justicars are under fire near your location, EC idiots are attacking a school."

Galus nodded, the message was heard to all of his squadmates " Copy that KL 35, we're heading out, send us the exact gridref on our PND's"

PND's, or Personal Navigation Device, was a GPS type device that was in a armband on each of the soldiers left arm; to Emmerians, it would look like the playbook manual their Quarterback's wore, but instead of a sports playbook, there was a flexglass touch screen GPS device inside, and Galus watched as the AWAC's controller moved the focus of the screen two blocks down to a junior high school. As Galus and his men started moving, the voice of the controller came through again " Admiral to Ignis 1-1, we're contacted the Justicar's on station there, callsign Mike Sierra 4 9. They have four Wombat APC's as well as three Lynx trucks, about one hundred students are trapped inside the school and the Justicars are pinned down in the front. EC is engaging them from residential townhouses across the street, unknown number"

" Solid copy Admiral, we'll insert from their rear and see what we can do."

At this point, the squad picked up their pace, moving from a slow walk with their carbine's raised to a slow jog, retaining their loose diamond formation, their carbines held at chest level or some let them hang from the strap running across their chest. They began jogging past the city blocks, staying on the side of the right hand road or moving onto the side walk. As they got closer and closer to the school, the gun shots could be heard. As they got within one block of the school, Galus could see two of the BTR-88's parked on the side of the road, carefully and orderly and were seemingly unmanned. Galus motioned to move forward, changing plans to insert from behind the school. The squad rushed up to the BTR's and found them completely empty, at which point Galus attempted communicating with the Justicars as he and his squad took cover behind a two story brick building on the street's corner. " MS 49, this is Ignis 1-1, a Order squad. We're just left of your position, we seem to have found two of your Wombats. Where's the crew ? "

Took a few moments before a young voice, seemingly distracted replied "Ignis 1-1, nice to see you. We pulled our Wombat crew's when we arrived to help load the students onto the trucks and that's when we were jumped. EC has I'd say about dozen men across the street from the school in addition to a decent marksman who's keeping us from moving to our two Wombat's parked in front of the school. If we can get to them, we can definitely eliminate them. "

" Right, let's get you back in those things before they break out their rockets. "

Galus turned to one of the members of his squad who was armed with a SSW version of the AR9R1, a large marksman optical scope attached to the rifle and a large box magazine in the bullup receiver. Galus spoke to him, pointing to the roof of the building they were behind " Right, Marcus, you get to the top of that roof and eliminate their marksman. Take Drusus and Aulus with you, you two lay down some covering fire, me and the rest of us will insert from behind this building and make a dash for the entrance of the school. Let's move"

The three man team carefully made their way through a back door in the building, Drusus kicking it open with his black combat boots before proceeding into the building, his carbine raised and ready to terminate any threat or hostile in the building. It took him thirty seconds to clear the two floors, the building long abandoned and soon Aulus and Marcus had climbed up the fire escape ladder to the roof, where Marcus took up a prone position in the top corner of the roof, lying flat on his stomach as he looked through the scope, hunting down the marksman. He found several EC fighters who were firing from inside the town houses or from behind fences or tree's, but he did not see a marksman. He noticed out of the corner of his eye Galus and the rest of the team sprinting from behind the building, at which point Drusus and Aulus opened fire with their own carbine's, scoring several hits on the exposed EC fighter's on the street.

Galus himself tucked his head lower as he heard the bullet's whizzing around them, Justicar's holding their fire as the Knight's ran in front. One of the Justicars clad in their grey uniforms and black tactical gear was standing by the front door to the school, crouched on one knee with his TAG-34 rifle trained down range he was squeezing off rounds in small bursts, holding the door open for the approaching Knights. They exchanged no words, except a brief nod of thanks from Galus, as they sprinted in, the Justicar slowly moving back letting the door close as the last Knight entered, rounds from the AC11's slamming into the solid wooden door, but not going through. They got through the door and into a hallway from the main lobby when Galus stopped the Justicar and offered him a handshake " Thanks, Eques Bato. "

" My pleasure to assist, I'm Agent Audens. Senior Agent Piso is in the Principal's office, he's using their half wall half window scheme for a firing port."

Galus nodded and did a fast walk through the lobby, and into the main administration office, whose windows had been shot out and now there was a number of Justicars using it as a firing port. He quickly located the Senior Agent, identified by the rank pips on his collar and tapped him on his shoulder, crouching next to him " Agent Piso, I'm Eques Bato, we spoke over the radio. I got three of my guys on that brick building on the corner's roof, one has a rifle and is looking for your hostile marksman. The rest of us are in here, shall we take them down? "

Piso nodded and then turned around and huddled against the low riding wall, removing the empty magazine from his rifle's receiver and removing a fresh magazine from his tactical vest and inserting it into the rifle. " Tell your man the marksman is on the second floor balcony of the fourth house. Hiding behind some vegetation."

Galus nodded and then ducked back behind a wall corner and activated his radio " Marcus, fourth house, second story balcony. "

Back on the roof of the building, Marcus's two fire support team members had withdrawn to the second story of the building, taking heavy fire from insurgents hidden in the homes, Drusus had taken a round to his chest but thankfully the Emmerian manufactured body armor protected him and the only damage done was to his plate carrier. Both he and Aulus had pulled back to firing from windows on the second floor while Marcus remained in a prone position, still undiscovered by the enemy. He quickly searched through his scope for the enemy marksman and found him when the fool stood up to fire at someone. It took Marcus a matter of seconds to put two rounds into the man's neck, causing him to call over the radio " Marksman down. "

Inside, Galus celebrated slightly at the news of the elimination of the enemy marksman, looking at Piso again " We've taken down the marksman, we should get into those Wombats. My guys will walk the crew's out, where are they? "

" I'll have them meet you by the front door. "

Galus and Piso both left the room, the other Justicars slowly reforming in the lobby, continuing to fire at the eight or so remaining EC insurgents. The six crewmembers of the two Wombats had assembled by the front door, as well as Galus's other two men, the plan to simply lay down enough suppressive fire to get the crew's into the BTR's and allow them to use the 30mm autocannons to destroy anything wielding an AC11. Galus waited for the crew members to be ready and as soon as he nodded, the other thirteen or so Justicars broke out of the school and began advancing into the school yard in crouched or hunched down positions, their rifles switched from semi-automatic to fully automatic fire and all thirteen were laying down heavy fire on the window's that insurgents were firing out of. Galus and his team ran with the six crew members until they reached the Wombats and used them as cover as they could hear the crew members getting inside and turning their engines on, the loud diesel's coming on with a tremendous roar. Within a few moments, the Justicars ceased their fire as that turrets on the Wombat's turned forty five degree's to face the houses and opened fire with their autocannons, their 30mm rounds ripping holes through the brick masonry of the town homes. The fire went on for thirty seconds before, after leaving gaping holes and gunfire riddled houses remaining on the street, it took the Justicars a few moments to clear the houses, finding all insurgents dead, and Galus and his team had loaded the children onto the trucks, which were now being escorted away by the other two BTR-88's, which would take them to a refugee center on the edge of the city.

Piso and Galus approached each other, Piso with a look of concern on his face " I just was contacted by IPA Control, it seems our units have been attached to each other and we've been re-deployed to Narcium district, our Justicar teams over there have made significant headway with already one hundred confirmed kills on the Catholic insurgents but could use some more mobile assets. Seems they've met some pretty stiff resistance. "

" Roger that, let's load up and get underway then. "

Aer Legate Ramiro Zetticci
Udinesi Air Base, Near Tauris


" What am I looking at? "

Ramiro Zetticci was the IAF, Itailian Air Force, commander in charge of the Udinesi Air Base, which was a rather large air facility on the southern coast of the Itailian mainland, near the city of Tauris. Armed with numerous facilities, the Base boasted two Fighter Wings, VF-114 and VF-213, as well as an OTH radar system and high level communication networks. For the past three or so hours they had been tracking the various Rodarion naval elements engaging in naval exercises in the Sea of Orlessia, as well as tracking the Arthuristan Carrier Battle Group in a remotely near vicinity. About seven minutes ago, Ramiro had been called out of his office and towards the main Information Center where one of the many analysts had pulled up a real time overlay tracking map, which was following a Combat Air Patrol of Arthuristan Tempests and some Rodarion RE-H2's.

" Sir, since the Arthuristans have shared their comm net codes with us, I was able to listen to the chatter from their pilots, hear this."

The analyst played back a recording of the Arthuristan pilot's voice “Shit, they’ve opened fire!”

Ramiro's face went visibly a shade lighter. The analyst ignored it and continued speaking from his desk where he was constantly following the situation " We've confirmed a kill for one of the Tempest's, one of the Archangels was hit by what I'm assuming to be an Arthuristan fired AAM. Additionally, I've detected activity from the Rodarion's naval elements, seems they might be launching up to a squadron of RE-H3's and Bs sir. "

" Right, what do we have in the area ? "

" CVBG-17 with the 2nd Southern Fleet sir is the nearest element, they went out on some leg stretching exercises from the main Fleet, NAVCOM approved their detachment two days ago. Battle Group has the...INS Trevisani and it's attached escorts. Trevisani is a Type II Ark Royal, under went it's major overhaul refit two years ago and has been operating with CDI Carrier Groups on maritime patrols until last month. It also took on a full combat load of 45 LY910's and 55 F-20 Lagrel's, in addition to various role fulfilling craft over the last week in preparation for Able Deci exercises. "

" Right, get their Captain on the horn and get some reinforcements, say 10 of their Shadowhawks and Lagrel's, over to the Arthuristans. And then someone get me PARCOM."
Last edited by Itailian Maifias on Sat Feb 22, 2014 3:14 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Rodarion
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Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Rodarion » Sun Feb 23, 2014 7:52 pm

Emergency Response Squadron,
Fleet of Righteous Interdiction,
342km north-east of the carrier group


Vladimirescu rejoiced at the success of his squadron’s counter-attack, two confirmed kills, that should send their masters a good signal, as he and ESR-3 pushed their throttles down to chase the Arthuristans further towards destruction, the final salvo screamed through at them with the audio warnings from the voice of the plane. He dived his plane as quickly as he could move, dropping out flares once more, the speed and flares saved him from death, ESR-3 responded too slowly and his plane was struck, he ejected, he survived.

“Viktor, I’ll get help to you as soon as possible, hold tight and keep warm brother!” he bellowed out, a hand waved from the chair slowly falling down towards the chilly waters of the Orlessian Sea. As he took a deep breath, ESR-4,5 and 6 pulled up alongside him, they had survived, albeit ESR-5 had major damage to his tail which limited his manoeuvrability.

“Petru, head back home, you’re no use flying so stiff” Vladimirescu uttered softly.

“Yes sir, God be with you” ESR-5 responded reluctantly, pulling his aircraft back towards a southward course.

“FORI actual, this is ESR-1 come in” Vladimirescu uttered as he and the remnants of his squadron headed north-east as top speed.

“This FORI actual, go ahead ESR-1” a voice replied.

“Suffered two losses, one KIA still. Chasing down enemy aircraft – hostiles faster however – requesting Seraphim support – ETA? On H2Bs?” he inquired looking down at his watch, 13:03pm, wow 15 minutes and that was over.

“Confirmed on losses, two squadrons of Seraphims inbound with one squadron of Archangels. H2Bs – squadron call sign Raven, ETA-5 minutes over”... “command wants your squadron back home ASAP over” the voice continued, now of a more sterner tone.

“Copy that, coming home” Vladimirescu sighed as he spun his index finger around, his comrades could see from their own cockpits and nodded, the squadron pulled away back to the south-west to return him.

385km west of their position, Hawk-1 the RE-09 AWACs had taken over radar coverage duty from Hawk-2 which was now scouring the Orlessian Sea for the Arthuristan carrier group. Hawk 1 had a constant fix on the retreating Tempests, keeping the location open for the incoming Rodarian squadrons. Within 10 minutes, the super cruising RE-H2Bs would be within BVRAAM range.

Rodar-Itailian Border

Private Dorin Sabau was slouched inside his foxhole, which he lived, eat and slept in along with his entire platoon, over their heads was a wooden frame that held up an anti-infrared net and above that turf covered in grass and leaves, these foxholes continued in all directions for 3 miles – this was the home to Army Group ‘Mihail’. The tanks and vehicles too were covered under anti-ir nets and turf or turf in general, the deployment-concealment phase was blessed by the Lord with shit weather which denied satellites and UAVs any real insight into the goings on. Some tanks were left in the open, but they sat beside inflatable dummies of both Type 99s and Type 100s.

It was a cold day and Sabau was forced to wrap himself up in a blanket given to him by his fiancé Ana, they’d been together for 11 years since secondary school through her university career and him joining the Papal Army as a professional following his three years in national service. He missed her dearly, he knew her job as a nurse would keep her busy, he slowly caressed a small photo of the two together in Brăila, before the statue of Christ the Redeemer. He wanted to walk about and smell the damp soil, but they were banned from leaving their foxholes during the day, if they were to walk around at night they could only go in pairs, as to avoid rising suspicion should the CDI be watching.

A makeshift farm cooperative was built some 500m away from Sabau’s position, it allowed the divisional commanders, brigade commanders and the Army Group commander to walk about freely, as well as the Brigade Chaplains. One of which approached Sabau’s foxhole and crouched down before the turf.

“Afternoon gentlemen” the aged yet physically fit Chaplain spoke.

“Afternoon father” the platoon replied in somewhat unison.

“Been told to spread the word, a week minimum” the greying haired man replied, his eyes were of a pale blue complexion, his skin pale, his lips thin and his neck holding a large crucifix.

“till the war father?!” Private Serban asked excitedly, the 19 year old was a poster boy for the Papal Army, handsome, fit and fervently religious and fanatically nationalist.

“Indeed boy, indeed, prayers are necessary now brothers” the Chaplain smiled as he stood up, he then walked towards the neighbouring foxhole to spread the news.

“A week minimum, not long then” Serban glowed with excitement and joy, only him...

"Don’t get too excited kid, we’re the sad fuckers being sent against the Rubicon line” Corporal Constantin Pavenic spoke up from reading his book.

“We’re second echelon though sir” Sabau replied, flicking mud off his boots.

“So? There’s always some CDI motherfucking worm stuck in the mud, we maybe second echelon, but don’t count on the operation working 100%, fuck all goes right in war. We just need to hope that it goes better than shit” Pavenic laughed, he was a tough bastard but he cared for his platoon like a father. At 42 he was old for service, but a veteran of both the Khalifat War and the Ulthrannic War, he was the guy for the job. In fact most unit commanders in the Army Groups formed for the impending Crusade were veterans of either or both the wars.

Suddenly the loudspeakers set up on top of tanks and foxholes began to emit the infamous song Papal Army anthem ‘Sword and Shield of the Lord’, which the platoon gleefully sung along to.

Forward! Forward! Foward!

Our army soars towards Heaven,
Stepping on our Eden,
Carrying the hope of our Lord,
We are an invincible power!
We are the sons of the Lord above,
We are the sword and shield of the Lord!
Fearless and unyielding, to fight bravely
Until we exterminate all heathens and apostates.

The cross of Christ stands tall!
Listen! The trumpets of heaven are sounding;
Listen! How thunderously his song roars!
Crusaders, march forth united to the battlefields of redemption;
Crusaders, march forth united to the frontiers of Eden.

Forward! Forward!
Our army soars to Heaven;
Marching towards his eternal victory!
And the liberation of all mankind!

Sabau and his platoon brothers smiled and laughed, then a sombre silence fell before them. They each returned to their business, be it drawing doodles, reading crime novels, the bible or the Papal Army periodical. The wait would be a long one.

Rodar-Western Border

Senior General Flavius Iagar, the commanding officer for Army Group ‘Gabriel’ was standing over the map of the Rodar-Western Border, tapping his pen upon a relatively flat and open plain on the border. Flanking him were three trusted subordinates of the three field armies that formed the Army Group, they too studied the map for clear openings to the interior, Iagar took off his thick rimmed glasses and rubbed his eyes, he was given the Operational Guide two days ago and his Army Group had a tough job, one that required constant speed.

As he yawned, an officer produced a radio and placed it upon the map table, it was 13.30pm and it was time for the daily sermon by Chaplain Superior Romulus Antonescu, the commanding officer of every Chaplain in the Papal Army and the Pope’s eyes and ears. The truth was that the Chaplains at Brigade level and higher were not only religious morale officers but also political commissars in their tasks to ensure the Papal Army fights in according to the ‘Duties of Christian Soldiers’, if an officer was failing to do so, the Chaplain had the right to take out his sidearm and shoot that officer dead.

“Brothers! Comrades before God! We await, we await the trumpet’s sound. We await the Lord’s angels to sound out the call to Crusade with abated breaths, with pumping hearts, clenched fists, we await for the Lord’s call to unleash his righteous justice upon the heathen. When it does sound brothers, remember two things; firstly we fight for God almighty, secondly we fight for the Mother Church, with such guidance from the Lord above and support from the Holy Father we cannot be defeated.

When it does sound brothers, we shall be dispatched to begin a war so brilliant, so incredible before our ancestors that they will scream in envy, for we are not just fighting to defend the peoples of Christ’s Kingdom but we are also to reclaim land for Christ’s Kingdom. See Drakkar is more than just a province of the Pagan cesspit, it is a province of God’s Kingdom on Earth, it is a province of the Papal Republic and we shall fight until the last drop of our humble blood has been spilt upon God’s green earth, because that is our obligation, to lift up the sword of God and to take the sword of the devil into our chest if needs be. It is our duty to give our lives to Christ who gave his blood, his life for our sins, we give our lives in his name and repay a part of the eternal debt we owe our saviour.

Romans 12:1, I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Hear that brothers? God demands our sacrifice in his name, and believe in me when I say that to die for the Lord is to die for a cause so righteous, so just and so holy that we shall be remembered for centuries, we shall become as a revered as Saint Peter himself who gave his life for Christ’s faith, to be martyred is to be welcomed into heaven by the Lord’s holy host, do not fail him, do not fail your family, do not fail your Mother Church, do not fail your nation, give yourself unto the Lord and offer your life, your soul to him, for when the time comes, we all maybe martyred.
Remember God wills it!” the bellowing deep voice ceased, only to be followed by a hymn by the Apostolic Choir.

“Not bad today, I liked it” Iagar laughed, receiving smiles from his officers.

“How long?” he enquired.

“a week minimum” General Octavius Garmescu replied, head of the 3rd Field Army.

“A week? Damn it man, we can’t keep four Army Groups hidden like this for much longer” Iagar yelled, his subordinates and officers around him gave him quick glimpses.

“It’s to be timed with the situation in Nece apparently” Garmescu replied, pulling over a map of the city.
“If the Exercitus and Orducii can keep the pigs focused long enough, that is” General Gheorg Cardei of the 2nd Field Army responded as he tapped on Narcium District.

“Better be soon, either before they finally catch on to what we’re doing here or the men get pissed off enough living in the ground” Iagar sighed.

Echoing out from the south was a growing beat, a deep beat. Within ten minutes the forward section of a two mile long column of armed men came marching in unison over a hill, divided up into groups of 100, each led by a standard bearer carrying a black flag with a red cross, it was the 1st Orducii Corps, the Army Group’s first of three 100,000 strong Orducii elements that were to lead the way when the day came. It looked more like a scene out of the early 20th century, these men had marched over 10km and carried their rifles, machine guns, anti-tank weapons, mortars and IEDs, they’re column turned to the north-east to ‘move into’ a fake village constructed four weeks ago, there ten of these villages built across the area, the Orducii were less disciplined than the Papal Army and therefore couldn’t be trusted to adhere to the rules aimed at avoiding mass attention by CDI UAVs or satellites, so they received the unheated homes without electricity or running water. The pieces were moving, the game was ready to begin.

Narcium District, City of Nece
Drakkar District, Itailia


The city was now in the bosom of anarchy and chaos, across the city small pockets of Exercitus continued to wage war on the Pagans living there and the police as well as their Justicar and Army comrades. But nowhere was it more violent than Narcium District, the tightly packed slum that housed over 3 million Catholics and close to 30,000 Exercitus. Eugenius Graziani stood upon the roof of a derelict tenement building, the man next to him holding an RPG-29 donated to them by the Church, holding his hand up both of them watched as two Justicar BTR-88s rolled down the tight street eastwards, the sounds of gunfire and explosions echoing in around them, from their position they could see the metropolis sprawling out around them as well as the plumes of smoke rising from the chaos.

Suddenly, the first BTR-88 erupted into flame and smoke as it was struck by an MPB mine hidden inside a car parked on the side of the road. The squad inside emerged from the rear, coughing and panting from the smoke, two of squad emerged in pain either missing an arm or a leg, then a swift stroke of his hand and the second Exercitus fired his RPG-29 down onto the roof of the second BTR-88, it struck the rear where the passengers would most likely be, a second rocket was fired from the opposite building striking the rear right side the entire vehicle then exploded taking out two of the other survivors of the first vehicle. The rest of them darted for the floor, only to be gunned down by Exercitus hiding in the buildings basements. Graziani smiled and ran down from the roof to the ground floor, where he gathered his men and rushed through the building out onto Saint Aurelius Square, scurrying across they prepared to meet another convoy that was reported to heading southward down Saint Augustine Road towards the square.

Elsewhere across the district and indeed the city, the Exercitus operated a harsh plan, snipers were placed in high rise buildings including flats, church towers and the roofs of schools, hospitals and police stations overrun by the Exercitus, the same time, parts of the city completely under the protection of the authorities were to suffer from both suicide and car bombings, concentrations of police and justicars would suffer mortar and coordinated attacks by Exercitus fighters. Areas that were easier defended were turned into pre-planned killzones, squads or indeed larger groups would be enticed down certain roads by hit and run attacks by foot fighters, there a building facing down the target street would be the primary attack point, snipers, machine gunners and anti-tank weapons would hit the convoy hard. Buildings key to flanking the primary building would be booby trapped, IEDs and anti-tank and anti-personnel mines were placed throughout the city, simultaneously to war on the government forces, armed groups of no more than 50 fighters were dispatched to enter Pagan districts and kill ‘every dog you find’.

As for Narcium, the district’s densely built up nature was being used to the fullest benefit, guided by Orducii fighters present in the city, the Exercitus made full use of every weapon at their disposal including themselves strapped in bomb vests. Over 40 PF-98 120mm recoilless rifles were deployed in well concealed spots covering major routes into the district, these were supported and covered by both mortars and infantry, the same time over 8,000 fighters were tasked with harassing duties, hitting vehicles, units best they could and drawing them away from heavily defended areas and then back towards them, keeping the government on its toes and keeping them off balance.

If the Itailian government wanted Nece back, it would have to pay a heavy price.
"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori"

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Postby Arthurista » Mon Feb 24, 2014 12:26 pm

CIC,
APNS Furious,
Orlessian Sea,
International Waters, south of Tarsius


Commodore George Hale listened to the combat chatter with increasing alarm. He’d expected a political exercise, have his fighters waft around the area a bit and demonstrate the CDI’s non-recognition of the ADIZ. Instead, they’d gotten themselves into a major skirmish and lost two of their number.

“Not as bad as it looks, sir,” said Commander Alice Shotto, the Furious’s CAG, “the second flight is inbound to reinforce the first. We have a third flight flying CAP overhead and a fourth ready to launch. Besides, we just got word from the Itailians, they’re sending in more than a hundred fighters to assist, all 5th gen types.”

“All true, Alice,” the Commodore wasn’t impressed by whichever genius at the admiralty who came up with this whole hare-brained scheme. The Furious was not a battle carrier. A Courageous Class vessel displaced less than 34,000 tonnes and was designed to provide air and submarine defence to convoy-escort flotillas, not fight a fleet action. Still, there they were - the people on the spot. They just had to do the job as best they could.

“If they decided to open fire on our planes, who knows what they’d do next?”

“They’d attack the Furious, you reckon, sir?”

“A distinct possibility. Have both our Sea King AWACs up at all times, and we’ll have the destroyers look out for sub contacts. We’re not giving them any openings if we can help it.”

Twenty seconds later, every klaxon aboard the brave little battlegroup’s five vessels began blaring in unison.

“ACTION STATIONS! ACTION STATESIONs! ASSUME DAMAGE CONTROL STATE ONE CONDITION ZULU! AIR ATTACK WARNING IS RED! ACTION STATIONS! ACTION STATIONS…“

CP, 1/3 Parachute Regiment,
3rd Brigade,
4th Parachute Division, Arthuristan People’s Army
Nece – outer districts


Lt Colonel Phillip Naseby stared into his PDA’s display and frowned slightly. Things were definitely not going as planned.

Gladius, as the contingency plan against a full scale uprising in Nece was named, envisioned a simultaneous, concentric attack from multiple directions by coalition forces once the city had been sealed off. They’d seize and secure corridors deep into the city along the major avenues, proceed with a systematic evacuation of the non-combatants, chop up insurgent-held areas into isolated districts then reduce these strongholds one by one. What they didn’t figure was the speed and ferocity with which the militias had taken to attacking their pagan erstwhile neighbours. Civilians were exiting the city, all right, but they were fleeing in terror rather than evacuating in an orderly fashion, with many being caught in the crossfire in the process. This, in turn, impeded the Arthuristan assault operation. The best way of minimising civilian casualties is now by moving as fast as possible and neutralise the insurgents. They had to do so, however, without sufficient fire support. Brigade commanders had to clear each individual request for artillery and mortar support. Air support was limited to a flight of F-29s overhead, armed with small diameter bombs and passive attack weapons. Their employment must also be approved on a case by case basis by higher headquarters.

In fact, until sufficient numbers of civilians were gone from the city, the five brigades of paratroopers and motorised infantrymen must rely on direct fire support in the form of 200 or so borrowed Itailian Dire Wolf heavy tanks – the only vehicle which the brass trusted to survive in the city for any reasonable lengths of time. A platoon of four was attached to each of his three companies, and so far they have proven to be invaluable.

Phillips walked outside his CP for a smoke, all the while wondering how long this policy of restraint will last before the brass’s patience finally runs out and they authorise the use of heavy firepower: cluster munitions, thermobaric warheads and WP – the last of these not strictly legal in the Arthuristan military as an anti-personnel weapon. He shuddered while contemplating what they might do to a crowded city district, then threw his cigarette onto the ground and headed back inside. There was more work to be done.

2nd Platoon,
C Company, 1/3 Parachute Regiment,
Nece

Lieutenant Nasreen Davis has never imagined that such a battle could be waged. Urban warfare was a training staple for the paratroopers, but people’s war waged by fanatics was most definitely not on any curriculum. It has been years since Baharaq, and evidently the People’s Army had to relearn what fighting such people entailed.

After hours of viscious close combat, out of her platoon of 28, less than 18 remained. Included among the casualties was her platoon sergeant, a tough-as-nails veteran who, against regs, wore the parachute regiment’s maroon beret rather than his helmet, and was rewarded with a headshot from a sniper. She organised what remained of her force into two sections of eight, each with a pair of four-men fireteams. She herself along with a medic constituted the command element.

“Baser, this is two-C, we’re ready to take objective Bravo two over.”

“Copy that, two-C, good luck.”

Objective Bravo was a large, three-story block, with a shop front on the ground floor and two levels of flats above it. Its capture was supposed to happen three hours ago. Extremely determined resistance meant that they only reached the current phaseline in the past ten minutes.

“Okay, peeps, you know the drill. Kick the doors in, breach and clear. Check the bloody corners.” Her troops, elite professionals and not national servicers, needed no reminding. It never hurts to be too safe, however. “This is two-C, check in.”

“Three-C, check,” replied the third platoon, holed up in a neighbouring block along with a sniper team, who’d provide fire support for her attack.

“Aquila, check,” said the Itailian NCO commanding the pair of Direwolves just outside, who’d help suppress any defenders in the block.

“Get ready, go! Go!” she yelled as they broke cover. Immediately, the insurgents in the block opened up. The paratroopers all managed to get behind something solid – burnt cars, mostly, and miraculously none were hit. One of the Direwolves raked a window with its co-ax machine gun. The din of its bursts was punctuated by two sharp jackhammer thuds – the sniper team firing its 14.7mm Model 100 AMR.

Across the street, the CO of the third platoon checked in with company headquarters. “Permission to use our GL09?” This approval-thing was getting seriously irritating.

“Permission granted, Three-C.”

“Corporal, nail those windows now!”

The corporal in question, crouching on the building’s roof, promptly aimed his weapon and fired three rounds at his target. The 25mm smart grenades travelled through the open window and airbursted within, finally silencing the GPMG position.

“Come on, people, let’s go!” Davis’s platoon could move forward at last. “explosive entry, now!”

A pair of Carl Gustavs are issued to each platoon commander, to be distributed at his or her discretion. The gunner fired a round at the store’s closed shutters, exploding it in due course. One of the assault teams promptly entered – no time to do the standard stack-up drill. The defenders within were still dazed by the explosion and were no in position to resist. A few judicious single shots promptly dispatched them. The paratroopers’ 7.62mm battle rifles may not be as suited for close combat as the insurgents’ AC11s, but when they hit, the effects were ghastly to behold. The second fireteam turned left into another room, where another insurgent was trying to get on his feet. The team’s support gunner reacted instantly and fired a burst from his belt-feld GPMG from the hip, almost sawing his victim in half.

“LT, come look at this,” Nasreen turned around and saw what the lance corporal was pointing at and was almost instantly sick. “Baser, this is two-C. We’ve taken the ground floor-“

“First floor, lieutenant,” interjected the paratrooper besides her, pointing at a plaque showing the floor number, “buildings here don’t have ground floors.”

“Fine, first floor. We found half a dozen civvies, they look like they’ve been executed. ” Not to mention mutilated, she thought, though she couldn’t tell whether it was deliberate or a side-effect of the insurgents’ inexpert use of firearms. "I guess they were pagans, by the looks of things."

“Copy that. We’re getting similar reports all over the town.”

“We’ll clear the rest of the objective. Out.” She pocked her radio again. “Ok, come on, people, let’s get this over with!”
Last edited by Arthurista on Mon Feb 24, 2014 12:32 pm, edited 5 times in total.

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Postby Arthurista » Tue Feb 25, 2014 2:38 pm

25/02/14
19:41
FROM: ADM J. FLETCHER, COMSUBCENT
TO: CO 3RD, 8TH, 13TH, 18TH, 28TH, 33RD, 42ND, SSN SQN
RE: ACTIVATION – TASK FORCE SIRIUS


Please be advised of the following:

(1) Full scale hostilities between CDI and Rodarion now considered very likely to commence within one week.


(2) Operation UlLYSSES, the air and sealifting of Arthuristan forces into theatre, is continuing apace and will be sustained for the foreseeable future.


(3) Admiralty Intelligence Unit considers large scale attempts by Rodarian naval forces to interdict ULYSSES to be almost a certainty.


(4) To counteract such efforts, all Arthuristan submarine assets in the Central Ocean, namely the 3RD, 8th, 13th and 18th Attack Squadrons shall be consolidated into a unitary force, designated Task Force Sirius. It shall be reinforced by the 28th, 33rd and 42nd Attack Squadrons sortied from home base.


(5) If full scale hostilities commence, the main task of TF Sirius is to prevent any attempts by the Papal Navy to interfere with Operation ULYSSES by aggressively patrolling the approaches to the sealift route and engage any Rodarian submarines found.


(6) You will be supported by the APN Second Fleet, which has been assigned to operate in northern Pardes and shall be deployed in full strength by the end of February, as well as maritime patrol aircrafts based in northern Itailia.

Good luck and good hunting.
Last edited by Arthurista on Tue Feb 25, 2014 2:39 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Postby Arthurista » Thu Feb 27, 2014 11:36 am

”War Room”,
Under Tower 1, Loweport


I’m spending too much time down here, thought Leanne Whittaker, Prime Minister of the People’s Commonwealth, as she sat down in the conference room, far, far too much.

Anyone who knew where she was and what has happened in the past two years would be inclined to agree with her. During the Ralkovian War, when she was the National War Economy Coordinator, and again during the brief Fisher insurrection in the previous March, she practically lived in this NBC-proof shelter with her ‘war crew’, the core cabinet members whose portfolios most closely linked with national security: Foreign, Home, Treasury, Defence, Energy and Disaster Contingency. The same team would move in here indefinitely, if war does break out between Itailia and the Papal Republic (in fact, given the greatly heightened terrorism alert in recent weeks, it has been suggested that she ought to have made such a move already).

At the moment, they were only here for a 30-minutes briefing. Its short duration, however, belies the weightiness of the subject matter at hand, as the speaker flicked to the first slide of her powerpoint presentation.

There, in big, bold letters, two lines appeared on the screen:

WMD UTILISATION IN A FULL SCALE RODARIAN-CDI CONFLICT – SCENARIOS AND CONTINGENCIES
AIR MARSHAL JANICE HENRY, CO APAF STRATEGIC DETERRENCE COMMAND


“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and thank you for inviting me to fill you in on the subject. Ever since war with Rodarion has become a virtual certainty, the SDC has worked with experts from the army, MINDEF and the intelligence services to assess the likelihood that weapons of an NBC-nature will be deployed by opposing forces and what our options for responses are…”

She went on with a flat, level voice, economical and to the point, as she summarised the factors the experts at her disposal painstakingly analysed over the previous week.”


“…we have absolutely no data whatsoever on the number of warheads they may possess, strategic or tactical. However, we have far more intelligence on their delivery systems. On a theatre level, SRBMs and MRBMs seem to be the key methods available. In fact, our recent Firestorm overflight has identified such missile batteries at these locations on the map. The lynchpin of their strategic deterrence forces seems to be their Vigil Class SSBNs, of which more will be said later. They have a large number of strategic bombers, which may be used to deliver both classes of nuclear devices…”

“…here in the centre is the Rubicon Line, a massive fortified belt behind its namesake river, on which the Itailian command has anchored their entire strategy for defending the Drakkar Province. The Rodarians enjoy major numerical preponderance, however the CDI seems confident that the Line alone is more than adequate in offsetting it. As such, Rodarian commanders may elect to deploy chemical weapons, or even small tactical nuclear warheads of between 5-10 kilotons if it appears that the momentum of their offensive is bogging down. Against particularly hardened installations, strategic-level warheads of up to 400kt may conceivably be used. Our estimates of the total tonnage of nerve agents at their disposal are…”

“Any questions, ladies and gentlemen?”

The Air Marshal kept her voice level to the end of the meeting, though she could see that her audience were clearly very unnerved by the very topic and, probably, the calm and clinical manner in which she approached them. Thanks to the National Service system, all of them would have served as junior officers at some point in their 20s, during which they’d have been trained in NBC defence. None, however, studied the issue of WMD in as detailed a manner as the Air Marshal obviously had.

The Prime Minister spoke first. “If nerve gas is employed on a large scale, what are our projected casualty figures?”

“Well, ma’am, we’re lucky in that most of our forces in theatre are armoured or mechanised and are deployed behind the immediate FEBA as a mobile reserve. Nevertheless, no NBC-protection system is perfect and, especially if caught by surprise, we could be looking at 15-20% as a worst case scenario. Furthermore, residue gas could linger for weeks or even months, depending on the agent used, even if full scale decontamination proceeds from the outset. It is actually easier to protect them from tactical nuclear devices, the effects of which are usually much more short-lived unless cobalt bombs are employed. Also, gas is a lot easier to deploy than nukes. Any artillery and MLRS can toss Sarin our way, they have far more options in the way of deployment platforms, and it’s a lot harder for us to take them out before they can launch.“

“Holy crap…” a junior aide muttered from the back, not realising that his voice could be carried due to the acoustics of the room.

“Let’s look at the political aspects of this, though,” said Frank Harris, Minister for Energy, “Rodarion wants to preserve the moral highground. Their entire propaganda narrative for the war is one of liberating the Drakkar Catholics against pagan subjugation or whatever they’re calling it. Given the collateral damage implications in using NBC weapons, wouldn’t they be in effect gassing and nuking their own co-religionists? Not to mention violating that OPA Resolution against the use of WMDs in Pardesi soil?”

“Who’s going to enforce that Resolution, Frank?” Valerie Chen Raman, the Foreign Minister, is the veteran of the cabinet and has little patience for naivete, “the CDI? They’re going to fight us anyway. Tarsas? Remember what they announced a few weeks ago? Ulthrannia? Tehraan?”

“Don’t forget their martyrdom complex,” the Prime Minister chimed in, “they believe that if a catholic dies in the course of the crusade he ends up at the pearly gates. So doing the whole ‘kill’em all, God will know his own thing’ really won’t bother them at all.”

“Right, so imagine they get bogged down in the Line and, in desperation, deploy nuclear warheads or nerve agents to achieve tactical ends,” said Gabriel Quezon of Defence, “ what are our options?”

“Well, sir, we’ll have to finalise that with the local CDI commander, which’d be General Lynch of the Itailian Legions. I think it’s relatively uncontroversial that we respond in kind, probably with a low-yield tactical warhead. That’s the moment when it gets dangerous. Rodarion may step up the game and escalate, beginning with countervalue strikes against CDI population centres. Even if they don’t at the start, if coalition forces suffer extreme casualties from Rodarian WMDs, political pressure may build up among CDI states to retaliate on a large scale. This may, of course, trigger said countervalue attacks.”

“If there are signs that Rodarion may be preparing a WMD attack,” asked Ben Morris of Disaster Contingency, “can we neutralise them? Can we take out not only their frontline formations capable of launching these attacks, gas or whatever, but also their ICBMs, airfields and so forth?”

“Pre-empting is an option in normal circumstances, sir. In this particular case, however, there is a major flaw. The whole premise behind a counter-force first strike is that after neutralising a substantial part of their strategic forces, we can hold their cities hostage in order to deter him from unleashing his SSBNs which would, of course, be immune from our first strike. The problem, unfortunately, is their martyrdom complex, as the Foreign Minister aptly pointed out before. They would likely launch anyway, even if they must immolate themselves and their entire population while doing so. This, of course, defeats the entire purpose of the exercise.”

“And if there is a strategic level exchange, Air Marshal, our current posture is ‘launch-on-warning’, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Prime Minister, although I think we’re relatively safe from that. Without Interregional FOBS missiles, the only Rodarian weapons that can threaten Arthuristan mainland are their SSBNs which, if they’re at all rational, will likely be kept under lock and key in their Orlessian Sea bastion. However, if we are wrong in that prediction, even if there is even a single SSBN loose within range of Arthurista, and it successfully launches its load of MIRV missiles, the results could be catastrophic. We have invested heavily into ABM technology since the 60s. Bear in mind, however, that it is only very recently that we began to use KE-kill weapons in the BMD-role. The bulk of our defensive missiles still rely on large megaton-scale warheads in the outer atmosphere and kiloton-range neutron bombs at lower altitudes to disable inbound warheads. The EMP damage alone could be catastrophic even if we stop all them all, which is unlikely, given the advances in MIRV and maneouverable reentry vehicle technology.”

“Thank you, Janice,” the Prime Minister was visibly relieved that the briefing was over. “I think I have enough to start a discussion with our counterparts in Itailia and the CDI in general. We really need to think up a coordinated response to deal with these contingencies.”
Last edited by Arthurista on Thu Feb 27, 2014 12:20 pm, edited 11 times in total.

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Virana
Minister
 
Posts: 2547
Founded: Jan 04, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Virana » Sat Mar 01, 2014 11:08 pm

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To the esteemed and honorable representatives of the Ecclesiastical Security Commission,

I am writing to you out of respect of the principle that diplomatic discourse is preferable to use of force in circumstances of potential conflict. We respect the Rodarian people's right to free association and peaceful assembly in good faith, but we understand that even protests intended to be peaceful may become confrontational or violent. It is this reason I am personally appealing to the Rodarian government to ensure local law enforcement and military forces are equipped and prepared to respond if indeed violent actions are conducted by individuals acting outside of the realms of the interest of the protestors and of the Rodarian people. I would additionally like to inform the Rodarian government that in the event of an illegal breach of the embassy grounds or violent attack threatening the lives of personnel within the embassy, embassy security forces are prepared to respond and will do so as deemed necessary.

I wish to express my distress regarding the treatment of The Honorable Ambassador Leslie Raza following her exit from the embassy grounds. Because of the fact that she was only in Rodarion after having legally passed through Rodarian customs following the approval of a diplomatic visa and identification information by the Rodarian embassy in Oured, she should not have been subjected to an extended wait time following the announcement of her recall. However, I do respect the commitment of the Rodarian official for attempting to secure his country, so I wish to petition the Rodarian government to take measures to streamline the process in order to ensure a fair and speedy process for foreign diplomats in Rodarion while balancing necessary security measures.

However, her case presents an interesting issue. As I am sure you understand, for a diplomat representing any nation, it is absolutely essential that they be able to leave and enter the embassy grounds freely in order to perform their duties in representing their citizenry. I am concerned that, due to protests and increased security measures instituted around our diplomatic facilities, it will be difficult for myself and my staff to effectively represent and ensure our commitments to Emmerian citizens in Rodarion. It is important that this issue be addressed, for I am currently unable to leave the embassy for security reasons related to both the demonstrators and Rodarian security personnel.

Additionally, I would like to address the recent physical altercation between a Rodarian soldier and an Emmerian embassy guard stationed at the gate. We are investigating the circumstances of the incident at the current time. The United Republic Marine Embassy Security Team (MEST), the organization that provides security to U.R. government diplomatic installations worldwide, holds its members to the highest standard of professionalism and respectability. Myself and the security guard in question, who is being treated for wounds on his head, preemptively apologize to the Rodarian soldier who may have been involved.

Finally, I was made aware that Rodarian security forces were sent to protect diplomatic officials within the embassies and to prevent vandalism of the compounds. I would like the lack of effective communication by the Rodarian government regarding this to be addressed. Armed, uniformed personnel without distinguishing insignia or symbols appeared around our embassy at approximately 9:03 am this morning and refused to respond to requests for identification. A distress notice was sent by Madame Ambassador regarding the presence of these personnel shortly before her departure from the embassy. The Rodarian government did not respond to this notice. We were only informed of the intention of the personnel hours later in the form of a brief mention in a PRRB news article. It is clear from this incident that cooperation, coordination, and communication between U.R. Embassy-Romula and the Rodarian government must be improved in the interest of mutual security.

While we remain concerned of the true intention of the heavily armed and armored personnel, we would like to express our sincere gratitude in the Rodarian government's commitment to securing foreign embassies and diplomats on its soil.

Thank you for your time.

Best regards,
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Anton Petrescu
United Republic Chargé d'Affaires Ad Interim to Rodarion

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Afalia
Senator
 
Posts: 3521
Founded: Jul 21, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Afalia » Mon Mar 31, 2014 12:33 am

'When my poor body died! Alas!
I watched it topple down a hill
And sink beside a tuft of grass.
I laughed like mad,
And laughing still
I bowed and thanked the bit of shell.'-Traditional Afalian War Poem


Charleson Garrison,
Blartleo, Afalia
23:39 Hours


The television screens continued to flicker on long after the last of the fresh batch of tommies had fallen asleep. Only the captain, half asleep himself, remained interested in the developing situation. The 24 hour news channel showed image after image of the Itailians and Rodarions preparing for war, both sides eye to eye waiting for the first to blink. Captain Leary had viewed the Itailian-Rodarion situation as something the army could do without. Fresh out of another Itailian colony where they'd gone to help put down a rebellion Afalia's small army was still finding its way in the world, still crawling in practice. Being sent into defend Itailia was the right thing to do, Leary knew that, but his gut told him it was dangerous and unpredictable, such was the nature of mutual defence alliances. He knew he'd probably be getting the call some day soon, an order from down on high. Itailia would invoke the Treaty and soon they'd be packing off for Drakkar province and all the dangers that awaited them there.

Fairfax House,
Kingwalk, central Blackdon,
Afalia
00:34 Hours


'Bloody night owls.'

Alice Cook sighed and took a sip of her tea. Lacking enough milk and sugar supplies mysteriously depleted she had been forced into drinking builder's tea at half past midnight on a Sunday. Nothing was worth this. The call had come through on her special secure pager, a message to assemble at the house for a special emergency cabinet meeting. It was one of two things, either it had all kicked off in Harling or Itailia had invoked article 3 of the treaty and asked for help. The rest of the invited cabinet ministers-the chancellor, foreign secretary, deputy PM, home secretary and trade and business looked positively gleeful as they shared anecdotes in the anteroom outside the PM's office.

'Bloody night owls,' she muttered again, her contempt growing.

'What d'you think it is Alice?'

Cook shuddered. Her first name, it was unsettling.

'I'm not sure David,' she replied, being careful to use the deputy PM's name with special contempt, 'Either Itailia has requested help or the HFA have done a big one.'

'Yes that's what I thought too,' the deputy replied.

Cook rolled her eyes attempting to work out why the man had inquired into her opinions if he had already come to the logical conclusion. Before she was forced to make any further small talk the doors of the office opened and Stephen Bond, the PM's bag carrier beckoned them in. Taking a final sip of her tea Cook placed the half full cup by a lamp and proceeded to shuffle in with her colleagues into the study. The room was a terrible meeting place. In direct contrast to the cabinet room the PM's private office contained only three chairs, an unsteady table for documents, walls of books and an unnaturally large desk for the PM himself.

'I apologise for the late hour ladies and gentlemen,' Kelly began. In his hand he held a cup of tea, probably a deliciously rich one, Cook thought, with the leaves handpicked by his staff.

'I also apologise for the cramped room. I thought it would be best if we met in here rather than the cabinet for the meantime as there's only so much we can do tonight. To get onto the matter Itailia has invoked article three of the Treaty of Glenshire, requesting our help and aid in protecting them from what I think we can now call imminent attack from the Rodarians. That despotic regime has got its eyes on Drakkar province and is using the flimsiest pretences possible in order to justify what will be an invasion of sovereign soil. I don't need to tell you how important it is that we respond with the full force of our diplomatic, economic and, if necessary, military weight and not just because Itailia saved us from the Tites.'

The room was silent for a moment before the prime minister turned to Cook, 'I've already called Dawson, Cook. We'll need to draw up a military response and decide on the size of this deployment over the next few days. I want an economic approach which is just as tough. Almost all of our old friends from the coalition are already there so we're going to go join them.'\

'Yes sir,' Cook replied finally waking up, 'I'll speak with Dawson right away.'

'Right.'

Cook grunted and left the room searching for the nearest secure telephone on the wall. She picked it up and after a few moments of trying to remember what the damn number was she punched in the numbers and heard the ringing on the other end.

'Regimental House, how may I help you?'

'Hello, I need to speak to the Chief of the Defence Staff please. This is Alice Cook, secretary for security. Code number is triple R, 3W9, QD56 7LH.'

'Hold on one moment,' the voice said, chirp and awake.

'Cook, I suppose you've heard by now?' The cool singer like tones of Simon Dawson were remarkable for a man who had spent the majority of his life sitting in dark office rooms examining numbers and statistics about the former defence wing of the police and the current armed forces.

'Indeed, I'm going to come down there, I just wanted to make sure you have some idea about deployment size.'

'Yes, we've been drawing up some ideas since this thing started. Planning a little as it were.'

'Good,' Cook said, 'I'll be down there in fifteen or so.'

She placed the phone back onto its stand without waiting for a reply. By now the rest of the war cabinet were exiting the PM's office and making their way down the grand halls of Fairfax House to their drivers outside. Cook sighed and took a deep breath in. Kingwalk's departments were going to be up all night. Cook prayed that there were decent tea making supplies.

OOC: Itailia requested my entry under a mutual defence pact we have as outlined above.
Last edited by Afalia on Mon Mar 31, 2014 12:35 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Itailian Maifias
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 10240
Founded: Mar 15, 2010
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Itailian Maifias » Sat Apr 12, 2014 11:34 am



"Don't give up. Don't lose hope. Don't sell out."
Christopher Reeves



Maroon Avenue's
Eques Galus Titius Bato
First Seed 7, 3E5, 1831 Hrs [UDT-7]
F.O.B. Palus, Outside the Narcium District, Nece


" God damn this god forsaken rain. "

Galus shifted his foot, his black BALCOTH combat boot sinking into the shattered asphalt, the pitter patter of the rain that had been pounding away on the compound material roof of the small building echoed throughout the small room, it's small drops running down the flex glass windows that dotted the building, running like sprinters in a marathon. The building was just large enough to house the command operations of the 4th Cohort, and what was left of the Order's contingency. For the last five weeks, the Battle for Nece had raged, and the horrid street and close quarters fighting got worse as every day ended in a bloody sun set. At first, when the Galus and his contingency had first arrived, they attempted to work with Justicar and Nece Police Department elements and contain the threat, like a small fire, and put it out before it spread, but the initial attacks were too much and the NPD and Justicars were too spread out, and the chaotic hit and run methods of the insurgents proved to be too much as the Order tried to establish a sold line(s) of control. By the second day, Arthuristan paratroopers, which were still recovering from the loss of a C-17 Globemaster the other day, and together with Order elements, which incorporated what was left of NPD into their ranks, had managed to establish a firm zone of control between the heart of the city, the Nece International Airport where the Paratroopers landed, and the edge of the city. Together, the bi-national force then began using their very thin zone of control to begin moving the millions of civilians out of the city en-masse; the Arthuristan paratroopers were mostly working the evacuations while the Order soldiers secured the zone and ensured they were not over-run in the middle of the evacuation. It didn't take long for Drakkar Liberation Front forces, which numbered some five thousand, began harassing the thinly held lines of the coalition forces and soon EC forces under the command of their Sabatius leader sent an additional seven thousand men to harass the lines; which under the immense numbers, the Order struggled to control. By the end of the second week of the Battle for Nece, the Order of Drakkar's forces in the city, which when they first arrived numbered some three thousand and six hundred, had lost around half of it's complement along with almost five hundred of their seven hundred Falkens, the EC's MANPAD's and other AA defenses, such as smuggled S-400's, where proving highly effective.

By the twentieth of February on the Gregorian calendar, the remaining eight hundred Knights and what was left of the Arthuristan paratrooper element were struggling to maintain control of the airport, having long last the central heart of the city to repeated insurgent assaults. On the early morning hours of the 21st, a massive EC-DLF assault which ISIS also suspects had Orducii forces as a vanguard, broke through the Knight's perimeter line eight blocks from the airport and managed to assault the airport directly, using RPG's, fire and forget missiles and small caliber mortars which were easily mobile to lay waste to the coalition forces there. It is around this time that the leader of the Knights, Equesonis Cotenteius was killed by a mortar round, and the next senior officer in the coalition forces decided to conduct a running retreat, with what was left of their forces falling back into the suburban residential district where they holed themselves up into long empty houses and apartment complexes to delay the insurgent's advance. It was here that a number of ISIS agents embedded in field units managed to confirm that Orducii soldiers were leading the assault on CDI held area's, and were proving to be a highly effective force, causing the coalition to retreat and lose half of the district within just nineteen hours. By the time of the sunset on the 22nd, the Arthuristan 4th Motorized Division succeeded in beating off Exercitus forces attempting to stop the Division from encircling the entire city in a firm security perimeter. In addition to this, the first five cohorts from Legio XXXVI Sabina had arrived from the north and directly reinforced those fighting in the residential district, supplying the forces with an additional ten thousand men plus their mechanized vehicles, as well as two valuable aerial cohorts with approximately three hundred gunships and Falkens. For the next two days they mostly were concentrated on holding the lines and avoiding any major engagements while they awaited the second half of the Legion, which also consisted of it's two armored cohorts which held hundreds of tanks, as well as the artillery and supply chain for the Legion. By February 24th, Legate Lucius Pontius Disertus had arrived with the rest of his Legion and using his M.Cs Illusion multi-roles to saturate bomb suspected low firing AA defenses of the insurgents, the Legion was able to combat drop two thousand more legionnaires into the residential zone, which by now was the focus of the entire insurgent offensive. While the forces in the city were preparing to launch a counter-offensive, their first, the Nakil HK1 main battle tanks and LY9 Direwolf's began assaulting hastily constructed defenses of the Exercitus along the fringes of the city, and LY300 Manticores attached to the artillery cohorts began unloading their rocket cells on key tactical points near the border and center of the city, often testing the service limits of their rockets. Drakkar Liberation Front members attempted breaching the perimeter line around the city to disable the LY300's, but the Arthuristan-Emmerian and Itailian forces managed to repel them with little losses on their own part. On the early morning hours of the 25th, some one thousand Nakil 1 HK main battle tanks, and M-20 infantry fighting vehicles loaded to the brim with their infantry passengers, began a two pronged assault that was devised the night before, while the 12,000 or so reinforced defenders in the residential district underwent a massive counter-offensive on their assailants, both prongs using ISIS ELINIT drones to provide aerial recon data and to decimate insurgency leadership, while a squadron of LY909's provided close air support for the offensive on the business district. By the afternoon of the 26th, the DLF had been effectively entirely killed off of or neutralized and the main prong of the offensive had seized the business district and was now assaulting the EC forces hold up in the center of the city. The secondary prong that began attacking southward from the residential district was now being supported by tank and artillery elements from the other half of the Legion and by the evening of the 26th, the CDI forces had reunited their split control and controlled both the northern residential section and the western business district. It took about eight more hours of fighting, in which most buildings were leveled in the heavy fighting, to regain the center of the city. The CDI forces began solidifying their control and setting up firebases throughout the edge of their control in the city, both the CDI and insurgents exchanging rocket fire and some small skirmishes for the next two days, none of it leading to any major losses or gains in control.

Now, in the evening hours of the twenty eighth of February, Galus slowly walked into the command center of the 4th Cohort, the unit he and the rest of his men had been assigned to, as he was the acting senior officer for the Order's contingency. As he walked into the green building, noticing all the centurions of the six centuries assigned to the cohort, none looking up from the map table where the commanding centurion was laying out the battle plan for the offensive that was to occur in a few hours. Galus's uniform varied from the camoflauge battle dress uniforms the legionnaires were wearing; his was a solid black, ripped in a few places from combat over the last few weeks and the bottom of his pants, half bloused over his boots, was stained brown from the constant mud which was a by-product of heavy rainstorms over the last week. As he approached the table, he moved his gun, an older M-2 AAR which was hanging from a strap across his chest, to hang from his back so he could get closer to the table and he watched as the senior Centurion, a grizzled veteran of more then three decades by the name of Quintus Livius Arrianus. His hands were bare, exposing his tanned near brownish skin color, his black combat gloves were shoved into a semi-closed flap on the Dauntless ballistic vest on his chest. He moved various map markers around, as well as unit pieces, narrating from them as he went like a story teller " Firebases 1, 2, 3 and 4 were all finished two hours ago and Firebase 6 had it's defensive perimeter repaired after it took a Strela rocket, so we are all set for the final offensive. In about thirty minutes, the howitzers positioned at each of the dozen Firebases along our border of control will begin targeting key defensive points on the insurgents defensive line on their own border. Both ourselves and Second Cohort have been assigned the task of rushing in once the five minute barrage has ceased and to knock out about two dozen or so suspected MANPAD, SAM and AAA sites so our dropships can drop our boys into the fight deep in their territory. Our cohort will breach here -" Quintus motioned along a section of the border were several damaged skyscrapers, and an industrial plant were.

" - along the main road and then we have got about six hundred, maybe seven hundred, meters till a field outside this factory with some AA set up there, we're thinking something along the lines of the triggered MANPAD that the Exercitus is in love with. We'll move in and eliminate both this site, and then another MANPAD site up on the roof of a plant some three hundred meters to the west and then Galus and his Knights will drop in off of their Falkens and head for this large fuel processing plant here; ISIS thinks Exercitus is using it as some form of forward operating base or a command center for their border operations, so if we can neutralize it, all the better. We need to move fast to do this, Second Cohort is going to be hitting alot of industrial plants and offices. Once both of us breach and neutralize, Falken combat drops are going to be happening all over their zone of control while the entire Legion assaults their borders; the Legate wants this done by sundown tomorrow. Now, let's talk about..."


Decanus Secundus Curius Sennius
First Seed 7, 3E5, 19:01 Hrs [UDT-7]
Entering the Narcium District, Nece


" Rebel 3-1, this is Rhodes, radio check "

Secundus chuckled to himself about the cliche of his contubernium's, or squadron's, call sign when they were fighting insurgents, but instead pressed the call button on his radio mouthpiece, answering with a slight happy uplift to his tone " Solid copy Rhodes, this is Rebel 3-1, progressing to Insurgent Road Block 3 "

" Copy that Rebel 3-1, Rhodes out "

Secundus and his eight man squad were all walking at a brisk pace towards what had been designated as Insurgent Road Block 3, one of their many 'gates' on their defensive line. Their objective was quite simple, secure the checkpoint until relief from a 2nd Cohort squadron arrived and then to proceed four hundred meters north towards an industrial plant where they would support a Knights combat drop and assault on what was believed to be a command center. As Secundus and his men neared the corner of the street, he motioned with hand signals for them to line up against buildings for cover before rounding the corner; he didn't want to waltz down the street like he owned it only to find a dozen insurgents with machine guns and rockets waiting for me. The squad quietly moved towards the right hand side of the street and then onto the sidewalk, all soldiers gripping their assault rifles either around the rails or by a mounted tactical grip, all rifles pointed forward and ready to fire. Secundus was the first to reach the corner and he stopped and put his back against the low wall that was next to them, taking a quick breath before slowly turning his head around the corner and looking. Where the road turned, it then went straight for about fifty yards before forking off into two different roads. It was there right before the fork that insurgents had set up their checkpoint in the form of two mis-shaped bunkers which had machine guns in both and then debris that could be moved blocking the street; or at least, that's what it was supposed to look like, as it appeared that a howitzer shell had landed right in the middle of the road, making a deep crater that broke through the road's materials and left what Secundus counted as eight dead insurgents sprawled out over various positions in the checkpoint, shrapnel wounds decorating their corpses. He motioned with a hand signal for four men from the back to rush to the left side and then they would approach the checkpoint from both sides, four men on each. He also warned all of his men to check the roofs, you never could know if they had a sniper or if some insurgents survived the shell and hid in the buildings waiting for an assault. The second team rushed over to the left, taking cover behind buildings on the opposite side for just a few moments before Secundus motioned with his hands to move and the two teams peeled out and moved forward, slightly crouched down with their rifles trained forward and moving at a decent, brisk pace. Over the radio, Secundus heard one of the men from the second team, probably the point man, speak into the radio " Check, I got motion in the brush behind the roadstop. ROE?"

It only took Secundus seconds to reply in a cold, even toned voice " Weapons tight boys, confirm your shots before you fire." The teams suddenly picked up their pace, stopped as soon as they got on the far side of the roadstop, and crouched down behind the damaged defences for cover, their rifles trained forward looking for any motion; which Secundus soon found as he saw a few branches move. He took a breath and then called out loudly " Itailian Legion, drop any weapons and come out slowly! "

No reply for ten seconds, but then the legionnaires spotted a man with what appeared to be a Rodarion AC11 attempt to sprint south, but he was quickly gunned down by a hail of gunfire. Secundus sent the other members of his team to check the ill formed bunkers, finding bodies of both gunners inside in disturbing positions as they were blown away by the howitzer shell, while Secundus grabbed his radio and confirmed their success. " Rhodes, Rebel 3-1, Rebel Gate 3 is secure, proceeding to Target Compound 2."

" Copy that Rebel 3-1, Order elements operating in your area under the call sign Disco, RV outside Target Compound 2 and assault."

" Solid copy Rhodes, Rebel 3-1 out."


Eques Galus Titius Bato
First Seed 7, 3E5, 19:14 Hrs [UDT-7]
Flying into the Narcium District, Nece


" All Disco call signs, this is Disco 1-1, be prepared for a hot landing, 4th Cohort ran into a real mess mopping up the air defenses. Weapons tight and watch your rounds."

Galus spoke loudly into his radio as he issued the instructions to his five hundred remaining men, all packed into their dozens of Falkens, twenty four soldiers to a Falken; twenty three lined among the three rows of seats, two on the walls and a centerline row and a single soldier manning the fifty caliber gun mounted to the floor on the back ramp, the door left open. Galus himself was standing, holding onto one of the many straps that hung from the roof. As he watched the Falkens soar over the churned and battle weary ground and city, he moved forward, opening the armored door that led to the cockpit and checked on the two pilots, who were visibly concerned, and understandably. Falken's had taken a heavy loss, as they had learned from their lack of armament and turn rate in this crowded urban environment. He stayed in the cockpit for only a few moments until the pilot's chatter alerted him to the fact that they'd be touching down soon, causing him to move out of the cockpit, closing the door behind him as he felt and saw the dropship slowly lower itself to the ground, dropping from the dozens of feet in the air till it was just about a foot or two off of the ground, at which point it stood and place and hovered, like the others around it, as it's passengers quickly unloaded. Not all of the Falkens had troops; some carried LY83 Fox's for mobility, or supplies and ammunition. Those would be offloaded last while Galus and his first unit of one hundred men assaulted the compound which was just one hundred meters to his northwest. He and his men had already formulated the plan before they had left; he and a squadron of twenty would assault the compound directly while the eighty other or so men would then attack and secure the other half dozen compounds and plants surrounding it, in case they were loaded with insurgents waiting to launch a strike or a heavy defense. Others would join them as they off-loaded or as needed, and of course, the rest of 4th Cohort which was slowly moving into the district despite heavy fighting and losses could reinforce them if needed.

It took Galus about five minutes to find his men before they then moved on, moving on foot due to the fact that the Fox's were still being offloaded, besides, they could cover one hundred meters in a very short amount of time. Using walls and crumbled buildings for cover instead of walking out in the open because of sniper fire, it took Galus and his men about half an hour to reach their assault point, having lost about five men to snipers along the way, which delayed their arrival. Galus spoke into his radio, directing the various teams of five to their different staging area's while the rest of the unit began securing the surrounding locations. The breaching plan was simple, four charges on either side of the compound's walls and then the teams would move in. An Raven drone had flown over head and shown five men in the courtyard and two on the two story building's roof, which they hoped to eliminate quickly; and of course, they also had a gunship on standby just in case. Ten seconds to get into position before the word Go was heard over the radio and suddenly, a large explosion was heard as the four charges detonated and the Knights poured in. Galus's team was the first to breach through, his point man taking down two insurgents while another Knight from a different group took down a third and the fourth insurgent managed to land two rounds into a Knight from the third group before being downed himself. The insurgents on the roof were quicker and quickly opened fire with their AC11's, and one had what appeared to be a high powered marksman rifle which he used to wound one Knight in the leg, pinning the Knights down behind some cars and debris. It took five minutes of exchanging rounds before they were both eliminated, and Galus assumed by which those inside had already been warned, so they moved quickly. The only door was a large bay door, which they blew open with grenades at each of it's hinges, making the rusted metal clatter to the floor and revealing a large storing facility which had arms, munitions, and computers filled with men. Several insurgents had taken up firing positions, but the Knights were in no mood to sit outside and play back and forth, so one of the Knights fired three quick grenade volley's from his launcher, sending explosions all through the bay, especially after one hit a mortar shell crate and then the Knights moved in, rifles forward and slightly crouched down. Two Knights were downed as they moved in, taking rounds from a rifleman on the second floor balcony; in the end, the raid cost seven Knight's lives, and maybe two dozen insurgents, including what may have been a high ranking member in side the insurgency movement itself. All, in all; not a bad day.
Last edited by Itailian Maifias on Sat Apr 12, 2014 11:35 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Rodarion
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1246
Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Rodarion » Fri Apr 18, 2014 9:01 am

February 27th, 2014
Pulpudeva, 110km south of Nece, Drakkar Province
08.32


Cicero Bartescu stood opposite the large flatscreen television inside the villa of Father Attilus Sartorious, the infamous leader of Exercitus Christo. The news channel made clear that the Battle of Nece was over, after three weeks of bitter fighting, the city had been cleared of resistance by the Catholic insurgent groups, 15,250 dead Itailians and close to 45,000 dead insurgents it was a costly battle but it was a battle that set the tone for the war of Drakkar’s freedom. Bartescu shook his head, as commander of Orducii forces in Drakkar he was personally responsible for their success or failure. Despite the losses the insurgents still maintained a strong presence in the battle scared city, hiding amongst the civilian population, still attacking when possible, be it by car bombs, sniper attacks or suicide bombings. The insurgency had changed pace, now it would become a long drawn out asymmetrical war, there would no longer be any open pitched battles, just hit and run and Orducii led guerrilla warfare.

Giovanni Graziani, the leader of the Drakkar Liberation Front, the second largest militia walked into the room, the DLF offered few units to Nece, since its strength was in the rural regions and it was inflicting losses. The morning of the 27th alone, 32 CDI soldiers had been killed due to IEDs, mines and pre-planned ambushes.

“A tough loss” Graziani lamented quietly, many good men had been killed by the CDI oppressors and he was more than eager to avenge their dead.

“Indeed, but a battle that showed our enemies our resolve, Itailia will never forget the Battle of Nece, well they will never forget the days to come. I have good news Giovanni” Bartescu smiled as wide as he could.

“Oh?” Giovanni half heartedly smiled in return.

“Come March 10th, the Papal Armed Forces will be storming this province with complete fury” Bartescu smiled as he passed Graziani a file containing details on the invasion and the required duties of the DLF on that important day.

“So soon, it’s great news... but?” Graziani enquired back.

“The CDI shits are reeling from Nece, better strike whilst they mourn the loss of their men. I have spoken to EC cells in Diolia, Arpissa, Lohany, Pezarny and Lava they have all agreed to step up attacks dramatically on the evening of the 26th, distraction is key. Of course the Rubicon Line isn’t a big issue as it was, the ability of Rodarian military planning” Bartescu laughed.

“4.8 million men?” Graziani replied in shock.

“Of course, there can be no room for underestimation of the foe, they well underestimate us, but we shall not make the same mistake” Bartescu returned to his natural serious nature.

As Graziani turned to the files on the DLF’s role he nodded and smiled.

“We can do this, we shall do this with absolute glee... ah good we’re being given the correct tools for the job” Graziani was pleased, he had a lot of work to do, an EC fighter clad in black combat gear waved them into the next room, there Father Sartorius sat upon an oak chair, behind him the flag of an independent Drakkar and the Rodarian flag sitting side by side, between them, a portrait of Christ and a portrait of Pope Pius III. Before him was a camera, live to Drakkar and the world.

“My brothers and sisters, today the forces of liberation in the name of Drakkar suffered a bitter loss, the combined legions of evil of the CDI have succeeded in defeating the uprising that was aimed to make Nece the first liberated city of this great would-be nation, but fear not, we are not defeated. In contrast we are more ready and fuelled to fight the enemy to the bitter end, Nece was a defeat but a defeat that can be seen with positive light, the legions of Da Vinci lost 15,000 men, the oppressors from Oured lost 500 and the oppressors from that far sinful island suffered a horrific number.

“The enemy is tired, it is in shock that we, your freedom fighters fought with such tenacity and grit and they have learned not to underestimate us. The battle for Nece may be over, but the war for Drakkar is far from over. I can confirm to you dear friends, that today marks a new transition our resistance to Pagan tyranny, today we shall focus entirely on striking them when we can, making them bleed in tiny but numerous spots. We shall be a swarm of bees striking a mighty elephant, it will take time but it shall work. We shall bleed them dry with a thousand stings, by the grace of God we shall bring them to their knees. Do not fear them, for they are weak, they are beset on all sides by the pressures of death and pain and they cannot take such pressures, remain strong comrades, remain stern before tyranny, remain resolute before sin and together we shall secure a free Drakkarian Republic under God, what happened in December shall never happen to us again, for a free Drakkar we pray, for a great victory we strive. God bless you all and God bless the Army of Christ.”

February 27th, 2014
Army Group Red HQ, Estatești, Vesarius Province, 55km south of the Rubicon River
08.32


General Florea Amanar stood before the commanding officers of every division within Army Group Red, close to 50 commanders. Taking a quick drag from his cigarette, he looked out from the window of these magnificent Papal Residence once used by the Archbishop of Vesarius in the 19th century, he looked out across the rolling plains of Vesarius province and out in the distance he could see the Făgăraș mountains, he smiled, this is what he was fighting for – Rodarion’s Eden.

His second in command, Brigadier General Valeriu Ceau șescu sat down next to him, he had sprained his ankle the night before helping some troops set up an inflatable Type 99 main battle tank as the last few touches to the ‘Grand Deception’. Amanar patted him on the shoulder as a sign of sympathy, but Valeriu wasn’t having any of it, he was embarrassed at the sight of his foot, but he was to respected and feared for his men to laugh.

“Gentlemen, this morning I received the complete brief for Operation Judgement, this is it men. On March 10th, this Army Group, along with Army Group Black, Army Group White and Army Group Pale will intervene in the Drakkar Crisis. Our overarching objective is to remove all CDI forces from Drakkar Province and then hold the frontline, should we succeed in removing them from Drakkar, the government will sue for peace, simultaneously, rear echelon forces will scour the province for any Pagan guerrilla units or Justicar groups, whilst this occurs the government will assist in the formation of a Drakkarian nation-state. You will all find a copy of the Brief inside the packs you’ve been given, it outlines the role of this Army Group alone, makes it easier to digest apparently.

"As you will note on the first page, this Army Group is a secondary echelon, so basically we won’t be the first ones in. Who is, I don’t know. All I know is that Army Group White is the largest of all Army Groups and Army Group Pale is operating a more mobile force. Turn to page 3 and you notice the plans for the Orducii Corps attached to us, I have spoken to Corps General Hasdeu and he’s accepted it without issue, which is good since his Corps won’t fare to well I imagine. We have under two weeks to ready ourselves, I want longer training exercises for mechanised forces and river crossing teams, I also want to ensure our river crossing equipment is certifiably useable, have mechanics check every vehicle, every day, I don’t want any division lagging behind because its vehicles are under maintained. The Papal Air Force will be conducting exercises close to the border so don’t get too concerned, they’re our jets” Amanar laughed as he duded out his cigarette.

“We will cross the Rubicon at 06.20am, roughly two hours after Army Group Pale conducts its operation alongside Army Group White. Oh thought you’d like to know all, each Army Group’s colour is based on the four horsemen of the apocalypse, so we’re Army Group Horseman of War, White is Conquest or pestilence, up to you on which one you take, Black is famine and Pale is Death, I am sure the Pagan dogs will shake in their whorehouses” Amanar laughed as did his commanders.

“One final note gentlemen, before we cross the Rubicon, over 400 loudspeakers set up along the river will be blaring out trumpets at seriously high decibels to signify Judgement Day, the Catholics of Drakkar will appreciate that I am sure, any questions?” Amanar looked up taking off his spectacles.
He saw a hand rise up, “yes, you at the back” Amanar smiled.

“All due respect sir, a two hour gap between two operations and ours may mean the Itailians take initiative along the river and attack us” the voice from the far back echoed out, his query received nods and whispers in support.

“Good question there, I have been assured by both the Papal Air Force and Papal Defence Corps that pre-invasion attacks will greatly reduce CDI response times, enough God willing to enable us to go ahead with our operation with little to no resistance. I will also remind you all that Army Group Black is also along the Rubicon River and they will also be a secondary echelon force, Army Group White and Army Group Pale’s operations should also assist in a limited response along the river” Amanar nodded.

“Yes you at the third row” Amanar lit up a second cigarette.

“What’s our policy on POWs?” the voice asked.

“Well... erm... Command wasn’t entirely clear on that. From what I’ve been told, take POWs if it is possible, if it isn’t don’t, but don’t that means liquidate them. Whether it is possible or not is at your discretion. If you can’t take them, I recommend passing them onto the local militias and destroy any record of taking any, I suppose that’s the best way to avoid being accused of war crimes, but to be honest gentlemen” Amanar sat down next to Ceau șescu.

“I don’t believe we should give the CDI dogs the privilege of being POWs, after all they helping to defend a regime responsible for the worst massacre against Christians in over three centuries, they don’t deserve mercy in any shape or fashion” Amanar smiled and looked down at his watch.

“Right that’s it for now, if you have any further questions, please go to Brigadier General Ceau șescu, thank you gentlemen. Deus Vult.”

February 27th, 2014
Lupadepium, 48km north of the Rubicon River, Drakkar Province
08.32


Roberto Facelli sat within the woods beside the small country road that snaked from the north to the south, towards the Rubicon River and over a million CDI soldiers. The weather was crisp, a cool breeze kept the skin somewhat chilled, but not enough to warrant a shiver or a freeze. Beside him was a Rodarian made PF-98 anti-tank system, essentially a recoilless rifle on steriods, the multipurpose high explosive round has a warhead with 120 steel balls and incendiary material. This round is capable of piercing 400 mm armor (under 55 degrees). Due to the fragmented nature, it kills the crew inside, or produces fragments to kill other personnel within 25 m of the point of impact. The maximum range is 1,800–2,000 m. A phone call from a farmer in the village of Lupadepium some 18km north of his position, had alerted him and his men of a convoy heading south, which included two M3A2 Champions, four M328 Stryker and close ten unarmoured trucks, either carrying men or supplies. The plan was simple, either side of the road for 800m in both directions were six PF-98 launchers, two Kornet-D launchers, 35 men armed with AC11 assault rifles, RPG-29s and four T44 anti-tank mines and a 100kg IED placed inside the dead corpse of cow.

The plan was to destroy the forward M3A2 and the rear M3A2, blocking the escape the convoy, the APCs would be destroyed by anti-tank fire and the men inside if they escaped would be gunned down. The unarmoured trucks would then be either siezed or destroyed and the occupants killed. This was the Drakkar Liberation Front's heartland, the vast rural areas of Drakkar, whereas the Exercitus Christo relished the urban enviroment. Facelli lifted his hand and waved as the distant sound of engines came rolling towards them like a distant train. All guns of the 35 man attack cell were checked and loaded, this was the time. The mines were located well beyond the ambush zone, a tool to be used should any vehicle choose to roar ahead in escape. Within 5 minutes, the forward M3A2 came into view and within 30 seconds, it reached the dead cow.. 2 seconds later the cow exploded, tearing the tank's right side apart, although it was still operational. It then took four hits from PF-38s into its weakened right side, its double tandem warhead, breached its hull and tore the inside apart, the vehicles behind came to a complete stop, the rear M3A2 took eight hits from both PF-38s and RPG-29s, a lucky hit from a 120mm PF-38 rocket, tore through the engine, the explosion reached the fuel tank and it erupted into flames.

As quickly as it was the tank was destroyed, attention was drawn towards the APCs, a single PF-38 tore through the centre of one of the Stryker, six men emerged from the back, dazzed and coughing, within 5 seconds they were gunned down, one of the Strykers turned its cannon on one area of fire and unleashed its hellfire, tearing through the tree trunks and bushes, it was taken out by two Kornet-Ds and a PF-98, this continued until the last Stryker was disabled, again the men inside were killed as they attempted to get out. One of the trucks darted off from the ambush and fled down the lane, only to strike a mine, the explosion was an epic sight, the vehicle flipped over and landing on the side of the lane burning. The other nine were attacked by the gunmen, their drivers shot dead in the cabs, then inside it was discovered five of these trucks were carrying medical personnel and medical supplies. These poor women and men, untrained in the arts of combat, were dragged out onto the lane and then executed, the medcial supplies were stolen and packed off to the DLF camp deep within the Lupadepium Forest.

Facelli took a deep breath as he stood up from the gravel lane, looking at the burning vehicles, this ambush was incredibly lucky, usually these sort of convoys survive, losing two or three vehicles, but never an MBT, next time they wouldn't be so lucky. The 35 man Attack Cell had lost 18 men, reducing their number to 17, the enemy had lost close to 33 people, including the medical personnel. Facelli knew that this attack would warrant a huge response by the Itailians, the camp had to move, he was solemn, he couldn't celebrate like the others of his Cell, this convoy attack was beyond a success, perhaps because the wood was so thick, it allowed the heavy weapons to be placed close to the lane, this couldn't happen again, they had to be more careful on targets, but it was indeed a success. He waved his men out, back to camp, they had to be quick.


February 27th, 2014
Orlessia Sea, 574km north of Fleet of Righteous Interdiction
08.50


Hawk-2 was supercruising at 1,100 kmph, it was heading in a north-north east direction, it's radar suite had a range of 350km and it was hunting for the Arthuristan Carrier Group, like an eagle searching for a small animal on the ground. The men within the aircraft stared at the radar screens, they stared and stared, as if they're entire existance had led to this moment, one man lifted his arm, the head Radar Operator ran to him and nodded, he ran back to the cockpit.

"We found them, we've got them" the operator laughed.

"FRI actual, this is Hawk-2 come in" the pilot called out.

".... Hawk-2 this is FRI actual go ahead" a deep male voice replied, a smoker perhaps?

"FRI actual, we have located the Arthuristan carrier group, operating 331km north-east of our location, heading at course one-eight-one. Four contacts confirmed, including smaller fast movers - probably helicopters" Hawk-2 responded.

"Confirmed Arthuristan carrier group operating 331km north east of your location, at course heading one-eight-one. Well done Hawk-2" the voice remained toneless.

Within ten minutes of the report, eight RE-H4 naval bombers converged as a temprorary squadron some 121km north of the Fleet of Righteous Interdiction, armed with T-330, T-890 and T-900 anti-ship missiles, these bombers could take on any force upon the seas. This was the Papal Navy's strength, its multi-faceted attack, as the Papal Navy's airpower roared towards the Arthuristan vessels, beneath the waves upto four Eustațiu class attack submarines approached the carrier group at 18 knots from the south and south-west though the bombers would do their damage well before the subs had reached an optimum position. It would be 40 minutes before the Bomber force was in range of the carrier group and due to the carrier's limited aircraft number, it would be unlikely the bombers would be discovered prematurely.

The attack was justified within the Rodarian mind, the Arthuristans attacked the Rodarian squadron without any reason, the shots fired were warning, the lead pilot stated it was a warning - the Arthuristans may have started one of the largest conflicts in Pardesi history.

---40 minutes later---

"This is red-sword one, we're in position, permission to engage actual"

"Red-Sword One this is actual, you have permission to engage" it had begun. The first three RE-H4 bombers, fired three T-890 anti-ship missiles each, they're targets were aimed primarily at the smaller radar blips, to which was suspected to be destroyer escorts, the other four unleashed everything they had, four T-330 anti-ship missiles each were fired out towards the primary radar blip, the four were fired in quick succession from a rotary launcher. The final RE-H4 fired off three T-900 anti-ship missiles which took to the high-flight mode

The T-890s enjoyed much faster speeds than the T-330, they would strike first. The Mach 3 missiles were designed for quick knockouts to escort ships, leaving the primary target which is usually a carrier of somesort, open to secondary strikes, the T-890s darted towards their targets at 3 meters above the azure waves below, the T-330s operated at 20m above the sea until they reached a couple kilometers distance then they would drop to 5 meters. The the three T-900s were flying at 15,000 meters to avoid being caught in any counter measures thrown at the other missiles, the T-900 was the most advanced missile within the Rodarian naval arsenal, it's autonomous guidance system took away the need for the AWACs to guide it in, allowing it more room to act freely.

The small Arthuristan carrier group was in for issues, the T-330 alone was blessed with fins to allow fast movement to avoid anti-missile fire of any kind and had capable anti-jamming capabilities, but this would be the first time any Rodarian anti-ship missile used for the attack would be done so in a combat situation.
Last edited by Rodarion on Wed Apr 23, 2014 9:50 am, edited 1 time in total.
"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori"

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Regnum Albion
Diplomat
 
Posts: 725
Founded: Jun 11, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Regnum Albion » Wed Apr 23, 2014 11:48 am

[OOC: Itailia has permitted me to join this RP on his on his side of the conflict as an IC ally. For a reason as to Anglican involvement, Afalia and Regnum Albion operate a Joint Task Force and other joint command structures which could align the Crown Commonwealth to Itailia via Afalia. If anything about this post is incorrect please do tell me and I'll change it at once.]


12 Regulus Street
Residence of the Prime Minister
Port Royal, Regnum Albion


Skylar Wilberforce, the Lord Tweedsmuir, Prime Minister of Regnum Albion

The world was rapidly descending from the tense but peaceful bastion it had been when I took office to a crumbling fort besieged by war and strife. I had once read of 'the coming anarchy' by some academic sort of chap, and he postulated that the developed core nations would find themselves more and more surrounded by collapsing or failed states, scarce of resources and development and encroaching further on the borders of the 'civilised world'. It was a theory I wasn't inclined to believe in - all too melodramatic for my liking, more the plot line to some God-awful thriller novel than a decent theory of international relations - but there were moments when I felt like the coming anarchy was closing in around me. At first it had been confined to minor incidences in Aurora, but over the past few months it seemed as though the whole world was tearing itself to pieces through anger, hate and intolerance. When the Anglican ambassador to Itailia presented a briefing on the worsening situation there, I felt as though anarchy had reached my very doorstep.

Of course, time has a way of clarifying things, and between that briefing, two days ago, and the subsequent call for aid from Itailia, I had grasped the situation all the more clearly. In essence, it was a land-grab of Drakkar Province by the Rodarians, and a non-too-subtle one at that. Worst of all it was justified by some verbose rhetoric based around religion. I'm a religious man, as are most citizens of the Crown Commonwealth for that matter, but the type of religion practised in Regnum Albion is the type that espouses the "love your neighbour" sort of business, with a good bit of stoicism and some muscular Christianity thrown in there for good measure. We're Protestants, that's for sure, and take pride in that fact, but we also take pride in our tolerance, openness and liberal values. I could not bring myself to accept the reasonings behind the Rodarian build-up and I knew from polls that the Anglican public could not either. So here I was, sitting in the Cabinet Room with my Secretaries of State for Defence and Foreign & Commonwealth Affairs alongside my Chiefs of the Defence Staff. I had seen this particular line-up too often since the beginning of my tenure, and this 'crisis committee' - I suppose you could call it that if you wanted to exaggerate - was becoming a bit too familiar with late-night or early-morning meetings.

This particular meeting was one of the latter, the sun fairly low in the sky and the fog from the coast settling low on the roads on a damp but fresh morning. From an open window the scent of a wet Spring wafted its way in and mingled with the steamy odours of various types of tea lying around the large mahogany table. Surrounding the teacups and plates of pastries were tablets, dossiers and individual sheets of paper, sprawled out in that special kind of organised mess that looks a disaster but makes perfect sense to those who created it. I myself sat in the middle of the table, closest to a grand stone fireplace that was unlit on this mild day, and was surrounded on both sides by my Secretaries of State, while opposite us politicos sat the uniformed men of the Defence Staff. Around the sides of the room any relevant aides with a high enough security clearance were wandering in and out, tapping at tablets or jotting down notes and placing fresh information at our fingertips in a constant flow of intelligence. It was quite the assembly line and only proved how complicated the situation had become.

"Alright, let me get this clear." I spoke more to myself than anyone else, but was awaiting confirmation of my every sentence from the Defence Staff and Secretary of State for Defence. "We're obliged to help Itailia and the CDI because of our good relations with them, and we're mandated to act because of our joint structures with Afalia, with whom the Itailians have a mutual defence treaty." It was a statement, I know, but I couldn't help but raise an inflection at the end, making it sound more like a question. It was the head of the Admiralty, the First Sea Lord Admiral Sir Jock Bennet who replied. He was a kindly man with a gentle sense of humour who came off as the sort of bloke that wouldn't be too well suited for war. But here he was, after decades in service with the Royal Navy and tens of successful campaigns under his hat. He somehow had a knack for gaining the attention of the entire room despite his soft-spoken speech, and demonstrated this talent perfectly in response to my statement.

"Aye, Prime Minister." He leant forward slightly and grasped his hands together, speaking slowly as he went into further detail about what this all entailed. "And, if you would permit, we've come up with a series of possible responses we could take, should you opt for the military route." I nodded, keen to know what we were capable of doing to help alleviate the mess in Pardes.

"The most popular plan, and the one that we believe will work most effectively, involves a large deployment of two divisions and one naval group to Itailia and the seas of the Central Ocean. Our ground contribution would involve, at present suggestions, the 17th and 18th Royal Marine Divisions, comprised of eight Brigade Combat Units which are primarily constructed around the Light Infantry role. The unique irregular warfare capabilities of these troops would make them ideal plug-gap forces to remain behind much more numerous and solid Itailian defences, and should reports of guerrilla fighting prove to become a reality, their tactics will make them ideally suited to fight fire with fire, or so the saying goes. This would be a force of around 16,700 men, much smaller than the forces capable of being deployed in Pardes but highly specialised and well-trained.” He took a break, allowing me to take it all in. Before I had become Prime Minister I must admit I wasn’t all too clued up on the inner workings of the military, but with such frequent dealings alongside them becoming a reality I had gone through a steep learning curve and was able to understand most of what the Admiral had told me. No doubt part of the credit for that must go to Sir Jock himself for rejecting the more military lingo for my sake. After a brief pause and the scrawling of pens or tapping of touch screens around the room the Admiral continued with his briefing.

“The naval element, we have been informed, will have to counter primarily a submarine threat as well as contribute to what is in essence a blockade of the Rodarian fleet. Therefore we have decided that the 2nd Naval Battle Group, led by the carrier HMS Indefatigable, shall comprise the primary Anglican naval contribution to the Itailian defence, should we be asked to deploy there. Its four destroyers, despite acting primarily in the air defence role, have excellent anti-submarine capabilities and its two additional frigates are specifically designed for that form of warfare. To improve our situation, the rebalancing of the Royal Navy recently prescribed two SSNs to each carrier group, so HMS Pioneer and HMS Settler are on hand to provide assistance to the Group if needs be. Of course, the Auxiliary Fleet has a fast fleet tanker attached to the Group so logistically they should be able to operate independently until they reach Itailia. Thanks to the carrier air wing, HMS Indefatigable will also act as our primary means of air support in the region too.” Again he staid quiet for a few seconds while this new information was absorbed and processed by myself and others, but Sir Jock went straight back into it after he had judged we had taken it all onboard.

“This is, as I said, the best plan we have available to us so far, and it’s been co-ordinated with the Itailians and Afalians to a limited extent too. It all requires the Itailians to give us permission to firstly deploy alongside them, and secondly to utilise their airfields and ports to transport our forces. If we do gain the appropriate permits though, then we can expect to deploy shortly. The 2nd Battle Group is waiting in Freeport and is ready to move at a moment’s notice, and the 17th is in Mizuyuki with No. 46 Strategic Transport Wing, so they have the capability to head over there as soon as they’re ordered to. As for the 18th, well they’re split in half - two Brigades in Aurinsula and two back here - but they should be able to rally within four days in Itailia at maximum speed. The only thing we need now, Prime Minister, is your permission to implement the plan.”

He had convinced me, the sneaky beggar, that it was a simple answer. Of course, come to think of it, it was rather at this point. War was inevitable, and diplomacy is mute when the tanks are already rolling across the border. Once more, for one final time, there was silence in the room, but this time it was not caused by the Admiral’s deliberate pauses, but by my own thought-process. We were morally obliged to help Itailia and legally inclined to aid Afalia in their mission there, and what’s more we were prepared to do so. By now the scribbling and typing had stopped and all eyes in the room were on me. I had felt this way before, back in my first few days with that God-awful hostage crisis in Songhia, and then to a lesser extent when peacekeepers were despatched to South Arturia. Now it was altogether more consequential though - two whole divisions and an entire naval group, not going up against some raggedy rebels or tin-pot terrorists, but against a large well-equipped army. There was nothing else we could do, though.

“Joshua,” I turned to my Secretary of State for Foreign & Commonwealth Affairs, “Write up a communiqué to Itailia telling them that we are willing and able to come to their aid if needs be, and that we await their permission should they deem it necessary. Then send a second to our good friend Prime Minister Kelly in Afalia, communicating our intentions to join them in the defence of Itailia. Peter,” this time I turned to my other side, where Peter van der Byl, a fierce man who was rightly my Secretary of State for Defence, sat as confidently as ever, “prepare a bill for Parliament granting permission for Anglican forces to be deployed in the event of a call to arms. The Crown Commonwealth will uphold international law, and by God we’ll do it with conviction and courage.”


38 Marlborough Avenue
Unknown Residence
Freeport, Regnum Albion


Sub-Lieutenant Nathaniel Barnes, Warfare Officer, HMS Cricket

All I could remember from the night before was the pub for hours on end, and then the fateful call of one of the junior rates saying “Let’s go to bloody Starfall!” That was as far as my beleaguered memory could get me, and I knew why. I’d already had about nine or so pints at the pub, a local haunt for me and my mates on a Saturday night called the Cock & Bull, and had by that point started to feel excessively tipsy - verging on full-on drunk. It was my willingness to go along to Starfall that reminded me of how pissed I actually was. Starfall was a local club, an epic sort of place which was popular among us early twenty-somethings who were trying to hold on to our youth while we could, as well as the actual youngsters who snuck through the bouncers with their fake IDs and unjustified cockiness. By the time anyone reaches Starfall they’re already too drunk to care about what they’re doing, so the cramped dance floors and extortionate drinks don’t bother you. You’re either there because you want to get with someone, or because all your friends are there trying to get with someone. At first I thought I was there for the latter.

But when I woke up to the grating ringtone of my mobile phone, I realised I may have accidentally slipped into the first category. Ringtones aren’t usually so horrifically loud and brash, but with a hangover and a brain that’s still half-asleep they have a way of startling anyone. I leant over to pick it up and check what the text said, only to realise I was in a completely unfamiliar place. The blue walls and wooden floor strewn with clothes weren’t anything like my red walls and cream carpet, and the clothes weren’t mine - well, some of them weren’t. At the same time I realised I was in someone else’s house, I also realised that I was stark naked underneath the covers, which could of course mean only one thing. I slowly looked around and saw the back of some bloke’s head. He was still asleep, and luckily so too, for there was no way that I could remember who he was or how I had picked him up - another consequence of Starfall.

As quietly as I could I slid myself out of the duvet and sat on the side of the bed, feet on the ground. I spotted my own boxers underneath a pair that I didn’t recognise, and hurriedly put them on along with the rest of the clothes I could find. Only then did I bother to pick up my phone and check the message. It was from one of my mates who also worked in the ops room, Johnny Slim, a complete lunatic with a devilish sense of humour who seemed to get on with everybody.

“Aye aye Nate. Looks like you struck lucky last night after all you randy bastard! In case you don’t remember, and I know you won’t with the amount of dirty bombs you had, his name’s Tommy and he’s a student at the uni here. You’re welcome. Anyway, we got orders from the XO. Shore leave over and we’ve got to report by 1400. Get your arse over here, if you still can ;P xx”

That was the cause of my amnesia then - dirty bombs. Some concoction crafted in Regnum Albion as an evolution of the messy bomb. Instead of Jaegermeister and energy drink, we liked to put a shot of port in with it instead. It went down like juice, but it hit you like an elephant on steroids, and probably knocked my wallet back a fair bit too. As for Tommy, I made sure to thank Johnny. I took a closer look at him and realised for the first time that he was actually quite a catch. He clearly exercised but didn’t pump iron like those uber-jocks you get, and he had a cute face bordered by short brown hair. I’d guess that he was about 22, only a year younger than me. I thought about it for a second and then found myself a pen and the closest thing to a piece of paper I could - the back of a pizza delivery menu. I scrawled a quick message on the back while kicking my shoes on with my feet.

“Hey Tommy, Nate here. Great meeting you. Don’t know if I told you but I’m in Freeport with the Navy. Got to go back to ship. Here’s my number.”

So not all of the message was true - I didn’t actually remember meeting him - but my number was real enough. I left the note by the side of his bed and left the room as stealthily as I could - thank God for all that training. Chances were if we were being called up on such short notice I wouldn’t see Tommy for a long time, but the best I could do was to keep in contact. The worst case scenario was that I was going to war on the Indefatigable, but I reasoned that it couldn’t be that. We had been in the middle of one sort of crisis or another for months now, and we hadn’t actually gone to war. It couldn’t be that, could it? Could it?

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Arthurista
Minister
 
Posts: 2312
Founded: Sep 04, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Arthurista » Sat Apr 26, 2014 3:24 pm

CIC,
Type-44 Destroyer APNS Patrocles,
Orlessian Sea,
International Waters, south of Tarsius


“ACTION STATIONS! ACTION STATIONS! ASSUME DAMAGE CONTROL STATE ONE CONDITION ZULU! AIR ATTACK WARNING IS RED! ACTION STATIONS! ACTION STATIONS…“ blared from the loudspeakers within seconds of the action-imminent signal being sent from the flagship.

“Give me the short version, Philippa,” said Commander Lawrence Trew of the Patrocles as he strode into the CIC, rushing from the wardroom where he was just sitting down for lunch.

“A flight of Tempests from the Furious got jumped by Rodarian fighters, skipper,” replied his exec, who had the deck when the message came through, “the Commodore believes that this put the battlegroup under immediate threat of attack.”

“Naturally. Not much we can do but wait and see at this point, unfortunately. Bombers are more likely, if they are to attack us, though don’t we shouldn’t discount subs. “ The destroyer’s ASW crew were, in fact, located not far from where their CO stood, listening intently through their earpieces. Their sonars were on passive at the moment, as were the ship’s radars. Neither would radiate until the last moment, when they’d be needed to engage targets. Showing one’s position needlessly in the age of precision munitions is generally a very bad idea.

There’re many things which a full-sized, fleet carrier battlegroup would have, that Commodore Hale’s light carrier group didn’t. A typical layman would lament the absence of full squadrons of 5th-generation fighters and strike aircrafts, or heavy EMALS catapults that would enable its aircrafts to launch with more fuel or payload than the ski-ramp allowed. What the battlegroup’s officers missed the most, however, were dedicated AWAC aircrafts, an airborne AESA radar that could scan huge areas and forewarn him of any dangers, such as inbound munitions. What the battlegroup had were fighters flying CAP, which could attain the altitude of AWAC aircrafts, but not their radar power, and a pair of AEW-variant Westland Sea King helicopters distinguishable by their prominent radomes, which had neither. All in all, poor substitutes for proper early warning platforms, but better than nothing.

Even more worrying was the fact that the screening division of destroyers weren’t even fully armed. They had the peacetime escort’s complement of long and short-ranged SAMs, utilising about two-thirds of their 96 VLS-cells. On a wartime footing, the remainder would be armed with cruise missiles for land or surface attack duty, or more SAMs and some ARSOCs for shepherding merchant convoys or screening capital ships. The short reaction time they’d have for want of proper early warning platforms didn’t help, either.

The minutes ticked by as the crew manned their action stations. They were tense, but none were jittery – the navy took the cream of the nation’s national servicers for both its junior officers and enlisted personnel and trained them very thoroughly indeed.

Still, when the attack was finally detected, it came as a bit of a shock.

“Vampire! Vampire!” The controlled voice came through on the ship’s battlenet. The message was from Warwick 2, one of the Sea Kings, “12-plus inbound at mach 2, range 200.”

Lawrence wasted no time at all. “Radars illuminate, designate targets and engage!”

“Aye aye, skipper!” replied the 2nd lieutenant in charge of the air defence section.

The battlegroup swung into action rapidly as a well-drilled combination of crew and machines, putting up the standard multi-layered defences against a saturation attack. The flight of four fighters flying CAP launched first, engaging as many targets as it could. Then it was the turn of the three destroyers which bore the brunt of the task at hand. Type-44s weren’t exactly new – they were among the first of the People’s Navy’s ships to have phased array radars, recently upgraded from passive to active. Its missiles, however, were all of the modern, active-radar seeking variety. The AD-12 Fleet Defence Missiles began to knock the inbound shipkillers out of the sky from around 180km, well within their maximum range. Defensive fire intensified as the vampires came within the 60km range of the quadpacked Sea Adders, although the number of targets grew as well, as the smaller, lower-RCS T-330s were finally being picked up by Arthuristan sensors. A haze of jamming blanketed the battlegroup in an attempt to confuse the seaskimmers, although Lawrence wasn’t entirely sure how effective that’d be – the APN’s intelligence on Rodarian ECCM was less than perfect.

All in all, the defenders did a reasonably good job. Less than eight Rodarian missiles managed to reach the innermost defence zone. RAM launchers trained after their targets and fired. The 30mm Goalkeeper CIWS, the absolute last ditch weapons, began their buzzsaw chorus, opening up in brief, radar-directed bursts to blast them out of the air, while masses of chaff were fired in an attempt to confuse them. The crew suppressed the urge to cheer with the disappearance of every blip on the radar screen. The things were coming to kill them, after all, and every one blotted from the sky raised their odds of survival just a bit higher.

“Watch out!” somebody yelled, as a T-330 went for a chaff cloud launched by the Patrocles. It detonated less than 50m from the destroyer. A hail of glass lashed the bridge, injuring scores of crew members even after the hit the deck or ducked behind panels, though miraculously nobody was seriously hurt. Just ahead, they could see another near-miss catching the Paladin, another Type-44 and the screening division’s leader, blasting her Lynx ASW helicopter off its helipad and mutilating large parts of her stern’s superstructures with shrapnel.

“Damage report!” Lawrence barked.

“Nothing substantial, skipper,” replied engineering over the intercom, “port Goalkeeper’s wrecked, but the thing was nearly out of ammo anyway.”

“Good, raise the flagship. See if the Commodore has new orders.”

“Sir!” said Philippa the XO, pointing to the right, beyond the bridge’s broken window.

100-odd metres from the Patrocles’ starboard side was the Furious, burning furiously, a pyre for nearly 2,000 men and women including the ship’s complement, air group crew and command staff.

“They’re not answering, sir.”

“Keep trying."

Hope the Itailians are near at hand, he thought, otherwise we’re well and truly screwed.
Last edited by Arthurista on Sat Apr 26, 2014 3:42 pm, edited 8 times in total.

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Itailian Maifias
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 10240
Founded: Mar 15, 2010
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Itailian Maifias » Sun Apr 27, 2014 11:51 am

Captain Decimus Longinius Celer
I.N.S. Trevisani [CVN-21], Ark Royal [Flight II] class aircraft carrier
South of Tarsisus, International Waters



" Captain, Legate Ramona is on the line for you, he has PARCOM on as well "

Decimus sighed and got out of his command chair and walked over the elongated console that served as the command console for the communications network on the ship, which given that it was the flagship of an entire Carrier Battle Group, it was quite the network. The young Ensign who was manning the station handed him her headset and he stood up, leaning over a bit on the console as he listened into the headset, ready to reply.

" Captain, I'm sure as your E-2 AWAC's detected, eight RE-H3's just buzzed the Arthuristan battle group and we're confirmed with the commanding officer of the Arthuristan destroyer Patrocles that they did engage the fleet. One of the destroyers took a superficial hit, but the Furious is up in flames according to the CO. You are to commence rescue efforts first and foremost, and have your CAG secure the air. Additionally, we have a second carrier group en-route; this may be the start of the war Decimus, so be careful."

The headset communication terminated and Decimus quietly handed the headset back to the Ensign. He strode backwards towards the back end of the room and then opened the water tight bulkhead door that served as the entrance to the bridge before he walked off of it, and then took a few moments to descend the staircase that climbed up the carrier's tower. When he reached the bottom, he side stepped the ground crew that was bustling as his LY910 Shadowhawks and F-20 Lagrel's were being put into the air, and headed down another staircase that took him down into a hallway that hosted the ship's Combat Information Center, or CiC. He had already transferred command down here, and his entire senior staff was manning their stations. In the center of the room was a large table that was projected an holographic display of the battlefield on it's surface, the ship's on it being colored respective colors of enemy, friend or themselves. The Itailian ships were colored a deep ocean blue, while the Arthuristan formation off their port bow was colored a light cyan blue. Various planes flying around were also labeled in the respective colors, and the Rodarion fighters were making what seemed like a second pass. Decimus then turned his attention from the table to the front of the room where there was a number of monitors displaying varying images, the largest of them displaying the burning APNS Furious. " Right, Lieutenant, get our RHIB's in the water, get every RHIB in the group in the water, get those sailors out of the water. Get the Orion choppers on board in the air and send them over to the carrier, have them carry some fire fighting equipment, they might need it to get some of the crew. Expediate the rescue, I'm feeling very nervous about the whole situation. Also, Comms, contact the Arthuristan fighters in the sky, get them to land on us, same goes for their choppers. Our CAP should have things covered."

" Sure, the CAG's commander is requesting Rules of Engagement "

" Shoot on sight, they've already engaged, I'm not going to risk a multimillion dollar plane and pilot on sending a warning for them to turn around. Get us into the Arthuristan formation, let's combine and form a solid one. Go time people!"
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Tarsas
Minister
 
Posts: 2050
Founded: Mar 25, 2010
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Tarsas » Wed Apr 30, 2014 6:51 pm

Mostly a fluff post foreshadowing my involvement


With the entry of Rodarion into the fray, the responsibility to aid them fell to the RCO. The Empire of Tarsas had long been an ally of Rodarion even before the war. Despite the international community calling the Empire a warmonger and claiming they were escalating regional tensions with the previous naval mobilisation, the Empire held no illusions that war with the CDI was coming. Preparations were made early on as Rodarion strategists released word of secret plans to High Command. Those in the region would think Tarsas was preparing to invade the middle east, which was part of what made this plan so deadly. Arthurista was already extensively involved in the Drakkar province. They had deployed paratroopers and it was already noted that they had deployed naval assets.

With all the available information, High Command knew what it had to do. Certainly, the middle east was a target. The 1.5 million Western troops in Talibanistan were a threat to be sure, as were the Italians and the Emmerians but the crippling of the Arthuristans would cause the RCO to dominate half the region. The first step had been to rely on Rodarion assistance to repair relations with Ulthrannia. 2000 years of hatred did not come undone easily. Negotiations to resolve disputed zones were extensive but eventually, efforts paid off. Working towards a common goal brought the two powers together.

Civitas Tarsae
Ivory Citadel

The ancient city of Civitas Tarsae lay near the centre of the current Empire. Considered one of the top cities in Pardes in terms of beauty and culture, it had been founded as early as BC 600 as a flourishing city along the Tycre River. Through years of trade along the valuable river route to the sea, it eventually grew to become the centre of the Enlightened Empire. The Emperor and his palace lay inside the Old City, a section of the most ancient part of the city that was still surrounded by the massive Citadel Walls. Built in ancient times as the primary walls and fortified in the middle ages as the inner walls, it was the most expensive part of the city to live in and was home to mostly only the rich elite and the Emperor's family. The walls were little more than a tourist attraction now but the were apart of the rich heritage that made the city such a valuable source of tourist revenue.

Outside of that stood the Middle City. Mostly built during the middle ages and the early modern era, it was much larger and where most of the rich that weren't cozy with the Emperors lived in a mixture of new and old villas. Around the Middle City were what was referred to as the middle walls, the massive fortifications that had been built in 1342 and made the city practically impregnable until gunpowder weapons became more prominent. Outside of that stood the New City, the most modern looking portion with wide roads built with cars in mind and modern suburban neighbourhoods. The city's towering office complexes were situated here as well outside of the boundaries of the old walls. Most of the rest of the population lived here, outside of the stricter construction codes imposed within the walls with the intention of preserving the Old City.

At the heart of the old city, at what was one time thought to be the centre of he world, behind the walls that were once deemed impregnable before warfare evolved past the use of static fortifications, sat the Ivory Citadel. Constructed in 1231 after the Solstice Fire over the charred ruins of the ancient palace, it was a fine example of that era's architecture. The castle itself lay behind a wall that would have made any army off that era balk. It was the final piece to the Triad Defence Walls that protected Civitas Tarsae for thousands of years. The great Citadel served only as one of the many palaces across Tarsas for the Imperial Family now. Its role as a centre of warfare was no more. It was now a centre of policy and governance. It stood near the ancient Senate Atrium, a building that was 1900 years old. It only served as a tourist attraction now as the Senate had a large, modern complex constructed in the New City. The Old City was simply an expensive section for nobility and royalty now.

The Citadel had been updated and modernised as much as possible with climate control, plumbing, and other modern conveniences without compromising the architecture and internal character. Inside of this structure, within one of the towering spires, sat the War Council, a group of men composed of the High Legionary Lords and the Executive Commander. It was they who planned the strategies and executed them when the country was at war. The circular room was composed of cold stone, insulated with thermal wall panels that radiated heat and blocked cold air. Two lone windows, both shuttered with thermal shuttering panels, offered a view to those who used to occupy this chamber, guests of the Obsidian Throne. Now, they simply let in the cool night air and were often shuttered. The building's oddly completed renovation and modernisation was specifically ordered by the Emperor to preserve its character.

Around the table sat the eight men that composed the highest ranked officers of the military; two from Airspace Command, two from High Seas Command, two from Legionary Command, and two from the Emperor's Legion. Residing over the meeting was the Executive Commander, Lord Romulus Ralo Calixtos. His family was the Calixtos, an incredibly rich family in arms manufacturing with a long career in military service. He had been appointed to the post with the ascension of Romulus X and the fall of the Triumphs and their republican system. He had been key in keeping the government working during the transition that the Senate had brought. Behind him sat a massive map on a large LCD screen. It showed the entire operational theatre and current force placements.

"Good evening men. Welcome to the capital. I trust your trip was pleasant?" They all mumbled out affirmatively with a couple of complaints about military flights being held up. "Good, I'm glad that your trips were good overall. Now, let us get down to business shall we? The impending war we are going to have to fight. It is going to happen, that we are no longer in doubt about. It is important that we plan our theatres. I have been in contact with our allies. We will be working with Ulthrannia."

One of the High Commanders, Balbus Antonius Peros, gasped. “Did I hear you correctly? Working with Ulthrannia? We’ve been at war over two thousand years!”

Calixtos frowned at the man “You know we put that behind us, for now. We can’t let old rivalries get in our way. The strategic value of this partnership far outweighs what we could gain from remaining enemies.” Peros grumbled discontentedly and remained silent. “Now, if those concerns are addressed, it is time we plan for our conflict. As we have been discussing, we will be moving to cripple Arthurista. It is time we dominate the continent and remove CDI influences.”

“Surely we are not invading Arthurista? There would be no point!”, exclaimed Felix Gordianus Leroe, High Air Marshall of the Air Legion.

“No, we are not entertaining those plans. It would be a waste of ground troops. We will be moving in other ways.”

“What will those ways be?”, Peros asked.

“That, we will discuss after a short respite. I'll need to gather the appropriate briefing materials, but know this, when we are done with this operation, the CDI will be removed from Eastern Pardes permanently.”

Vesarius, Rodarion
DI33A


In the vicinity of the Rodarion-Italian Border, around DI33A Military Base, sat an nondescript building within the complex. It didn't stand out from any of the other hundreds of identical buildings that dotted the base. This particular one was different, not just because the guards outside of the door had a different uniform than the country they were in issued. The growl of an approaching diesel engine demonstrated even better the abnormality of this particular situation.

The vehicle growled to a halt, its well maintained brakes silently doing their job. The engine suddenly went silent, the driver shutting the vehicle down. Four men exited out of each of the doors, closing with varying amounts of force involved. The guards both snapped to attention as one man naturally took the lead and entered the building, the other three following closely behind. They stepped past the guards and into the building.

The dusty, overly lit interior greeted the four as they stepped past the secretary manning the desk. Back past the offices full of men and women manning radios, computers, and desks. In the very back, down a long hallway lined with offices and break rooms, sat a red door. Its paint was peeling and the hinges showed many uses. As they opened it, it revealed a conference room with harsh fluorescent bulbs and a faux wood table surrounded by several plastic office chairs.

In two of the chairs, two men of rank already sat. They stood up and saluted as the four other men entered. The lead officer took charge of the conversation straight away. "Hail brothers, I am Altred Vana Parmaeos, the newly appointed commanding officer of Western Pardes Legionry Command, which from here on out will be called West PALC. I only arrived this morning with new orders for this front. Due to the nature of our distance from home, we will be heavily relying on our allies for the best suggestions on where to operate. Where is my predecessor?"

One of the lower officers saluted. "Majorius Candil Decea at your command sir. Colonelius Endariae sends his regrets that he was not able to return to the base to welcome you. He rushed to the forward command base near where our forces are officially stationed and has been supervising setup and preparations for battle with news of the escalation of the war at sea."

“That is alright. The more he has already taken care of, the less I will have to do. Do we have an overview of our assets here?” Decea stood and saluted before passing a piece of paper over. “So, we have thirty Cohorts available. Mechanised infantry and several armored formations. Ah, I see we have been gifted with a battalius of MCA-7E tanks. Those will be useful. What of air assets?”

“We have available five squadrons of drones for attack and reconnaissance. We are to rely mostly on Rodarion air assets to supply air cover. Only four squadrons of Na-6s have been appropriated for us.”
Parmaeos frowned. “A measly forty planes? What are we expected to do with those?”

“They will mostly complement Rodarion air assets and provide air strikes for us to advance should we gain air superiority over the Italians on this front.”

“What of our supplies?”

“We have a sizable stockpile from the length of time we've maintained forces here. Once that is out, the Papal Army has said they will aid us with supplies when it is necessary.”

Parmaeos removed his peaked cap. “Very well, not the most ideal circumstances but I knew what I was getting into. Send word to the Papal Army's commanders that we will position our forces based on advice from them. I will not say I am falling specifically under their command structure, however. Wouldn't want to tempt them to use us as cannon fodder.”

Decea saluted. “Very well sir.”
Last edited by Tarsas on Wed Apr 30, 2014 6:53 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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