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A Union in Shambles. (P/MT - GD - TG for invite.)

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

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United World Order
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Ex-Nation

Postby United World Order » Mon Aug 10, 2015 8:56 pm

BEDIENUNG RASCHE SCHLAGANFALL

'Operation Rapid Stroke'




City of Tuktar, RSU, Central Eastern Dienstad,
OP Rapid Stroke D+3, 0700 HRS.


The environment in the city of Tuktar had changed rapidly once the Ordenite and BSM assault was on for the city. Aerial precision bombings and area saturation against the cities defenses begun first with Lu-45s accompanied by Tornado IDS fighter bombers. Then came a artillery barrage utilizing several Artillery battalions which were positioned in key positions outside the city for a overhead view of the city as to act as quick support and reaction to enemy movement. 155mm and even 600mm begun raining down with force onto Unionist positions within the city as large explosions and loud roars from the aftermath shook the city to it's core as the beginning stages of the Ordenite assault continued to play out. The Unionist defense of Tuktar would play the game of trying to stall the Ordenite advance in accordance to the new proclamation made by their new commanding general. They had already done some sabotage before hand, destroying roads that lead into the city and burning some of the fields used for farming which the Ordenites would pass through on their way to the city it's self.

Plumes of black thick smoke clogged the air as the Ordenites would begin their assault on the city utilizing it's sapper and engineers to clear up much of the mess the Unionists committed before their arrival, of course under the watch of actual combat troops which was how the first shots were fired. Automatic rifle and machine gun fire echoed through the area as the sappers, engineers and soldiers fired back at Unionist soldiers firing at them from their own positions. Gunfire and explosions would be the only sounds anyone would hear for some time as the battle for Tuktar intensified and continued as planned, Leopard 2A5 tanks and escorting armored vehicles fought their way through Unionist armor and fighting positions as the first breakthrough occurred. Not knowing how expansive the sabotage was in and around Tuktar the majority of the sappers and engineers were being used to accompany combat formations as they continued punching through Unionist defenses.

Casualties were a given as some would be killed due to mines or other traps the enemy had laid in advance. Although the sappers and engineers were clearing up most of the problems before more casualties could be taken. Once within the city, brutal urban combat would commence as the streets would be littered in rubble and destruction. 60mm and 82mm mortars would be utilized as the confines of a sprawling urban environment like Tuktar would prove them useful at dislodging enemy troops. Periodic artillery bombardment from both sides would render most buildings hollow or crumbling to ruin as the streets also suffered with multiple holes from landing shells. As the battle continued it was pain staking obvious that the Unionists positions were collapsing as they were beginning to retreat in the face of a quick and brutal assault.

Prisoners of war were a given as columns of shuffling feet of defeated and surrendered Unionist soldiers begun their march through the city to be transferred to a collection center. The last stroke of war in Tuktar occurred in the almost outskirts of the city as crack Unionist troops who had been ordered to stay behind to stall the enemy more fought it out to the literal bitter end against the Ordenite onslaught. They too would suffer the same fate as their other fallen comrades as in the last few moments before the city went quiet, a barrage of Lyran made Manticore MLRS was used to silence the last opposition to the taking of the city, entire buildings which were formally fighting positions for the last few defenders were now large piles of rubble and ruin, the crushed bodies of Unionist soldiers were in there somewhere, already given a proper burial in rubble. Tuktar then went quiet as it was obvious the Ordenites had again been successful and Operation Rapid Stroke was going just as planned, of course the advance would not stop at Tuktar eventually they would be on the move again heading north east towards Gryaznaya in order to complete their objective in accordance with the operation.


Along the Eastern Front, RSU, Central Eastern Dienstad,
OP Rapid Stroke D+3, 1530 HRS.


The eastern portion of the country in which the second prong would advance and secure the cities of Kamenka, Dubrovnoye and Kokshlovo were going just as planned. Ordenite SS and Ordenite Army forces backed up by a formidable BSM formation which were armed with Macabee armaments and military vehicles such as older models of the Nakil tank. The second prong would see Kamenka assaulted by a complete BSM formation while Dubrovnoye and Kokshlovo would be handled by the Ordenites. Of course the three cities would be the sights of sabotage as roads were destroyed, factories reduced to rubble and some sections free of civilians due to evacuation. As seen in the battle of Tuktar, engineers and sappers would be the forefront of these assaults followed by actual combat forces as they would smash through into the cities in question utilizing firepower and quickness to overwhelm their Unionist enemy.

Artillery and aerial bombing and harassment would again be showcased in the second prongs assaults on their way to complete their objective. Again and again, Unionist defenses and positions would come under near destruction as heavy artillery and aerial bombardment would ensue along with advancing mechanized and armored forces. Already Unionist forces across the now heavily contested eastern front were beginning to crack and collapse in the face of such overwhelming odds. Full scale retreats or surrendering would break out amongst Unionist defenders and units involved, eventually Kamenka fell to BSM forces as remaining belligerent Unionists would insist to fight to the bitter end.

Similar actions were being seen in Dubrovnoye and Kokshlovo as the fierce and aggressive Ordenite force eventually tired out and overwhelmed their Unionist foe forcing either a surrender, retreat or a last stand. Many Unionists chose surrender or a fight to the bitter end, even though the battles were thought to not be over, Unionists positions were collapsing and turning into pockets of resistance in some parts of the besieged cities which the Ordenites would surround and of course destroy. Already as seen in previous battles, columns of defeated shuffling feet marched through the ruins of their once modern cities as they went on their way to a destination that was unknown of the outcome of their fates as prisoners of war.

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Postby The Macabees » Wed Aug 12, 2015 10:15 pm

The Murder of Ferdinan Lepón — Chapter 2: Operation MOONLIGHT AXE
Secluded village west of Yukar, Red Star Union

Two commandeered ex-RSU off-road vehicles [OOC: basing it on this] pulled up just outside the front of a small rural house, just outside of Takarst, a small village of no more than a thousand souls. The stale olive-drab paint of the vehicle reflected a much cooler near-black under the faint light of the moon, making them very difficult to see them beyond a certain range. Not that it really mattered, because no one cared whether the vehicles were seen. That was the whole point behind using crappy RSU military equipment — in fact, it had been a real pain in the ass to make the necessary adjustments that would give at least some guarantee that the trucks wouldn't just break down during the operation. That would be a disaster. It would also be bad if anyone saw who was inside those armored vehicles, which is why they souped up the rides. Being stranded due to a bad tranny would have been counterproductive. Not that anyone would know who the eight men, wearing all black and faces covered with optical devices, who stepped out of the two trucks were or who they served. Except, the Koro Kirim have certain, and known...customs of battle.

One of the men, wearing a small dull-gold patch on the corner of the optic's piece, waved to another one, and the eight broke into two teams of four. One, led by the one with the gold patch — the leader —, walked its way up a small path to the front door. There, they arrayed themselves to one side of said door, standing tightly against the wall. The other team headed in the opposite direction, silently kneading through the thistle-covered dirt ground, their flank covered by the start of a grove of towering pine trees. One step at a time, they moved as a unit, one behind another. In the distance, a wolf howled against an orchestra of crickets and cicadas. A large, rectangular window, determined to be a bedroom window, made up much of a lateral wall. If anyone was awake inside the room, it could give away the presence of the soldiers outside. So they crouched and, much more slowly, duck-walked past it. Finally, after a few turns, they positioned themselves just outside of a small backdoor, on the opposite side of the house as Team 1. Almost inaudibly, the second man in Team 2's line spoke into a small microphone installed on one his molars, "Team 2, in position."

"Okay, you guys know the drill." It was Stanos' voice. "Conservative and careful, now. Don't try to impress."

The kapitán waited another few seconds. Then, he whispered, "Move in. Move in."

On each side of the house, the lead man stepped out from his wall-side perch and revealed a small, two-handed battery ram. Rifles strapped across their shoulders, they swung their rams back and then slammed them into their respective doors, which bursted into splinters as it was nearly ripped off all of its hinges. The two teams entered the house, Team 1 turning a corner into a small room that doubled as a living and dining room. On one side, a small table was topped off by an undusted basket of plastic fruit. A rather expensive-looking couch and a television were wrapped in plastic on the other side of the room. Team 2, all the while, quickly made its way through a small corridor, flanked by the laundry equipment on one side and a pantry on the other. This led to a kitchen, which too was empty. In fact, there were no signs of life in it at all. The countertops were bare, but they were covered by a thin layer of dust that suggested months of non-use. The knife rack, blender, toaster, and microwave seemed more decorative than useful, and they too were caked in powdered grime. Something was not right. Their intelligence had reported a family living here.

Team 2 moved on to the first bedroom along their path. The door was open, so they rapidly swung into the room with vehement discipline. The fourth soldier, carrying a local semi-automatic shotgun and posted himself against the door, ready to blast away anything moving within his field of fire. RSU guns were good. Behind him, the other three soldiers quickly ravaged the bedroom.

"Bedroom Alpha clear." It was Korbán, Team 2 leader.

"Roger." Stanos trailed his point man, Kabos Rainer, into the master bedroom. "Where the fuck is he?" The kapitán sounded pissed.

"Bedroom Beta clear." Murphy's Law in action.

Anton Rochevksy, well-known columnist for the People's Tribune — one of the most widely circulated newspapers within communist RSU —, had been witnessed here with his family by local informants. The Kendrov regime had a rough idea of where he was, because it was almost public knowledge that he had a summer home in his village of birth. The question was if he had escaped to that home during the civil war and whether he was there. There was strong evidence suggesting that yes, he was indeed there, with his two daughters and his wife. In fact, they had pictures. The informants had followed them into town, where they bought their groceries, snapping photos of them as they exited and entered a red, four-door sedan. Otherwise, they never saw the guy. But, photos were strong proof, so the Kendrov-regime relayed to the Koro Kirim their first target. Rochevsky was a vocal supporter of the Communist Party and, from underground, had begun to to criticise Kendrov and his Ordenite backers. Being nearly impossible to stop the circulation of a newspaper, it was thought much more efficient to kill the people behind it.

"Kapitán, there's a vault over here." While Stanos dosed off into thoughts about the empty house, Rainer had wandered off. The kid was a gunslinger with the brain of a physicist, but sometimes the guy lacked common sense. "I'm in Bedroom Beta's closet. You have to see this. This is more than just a vault."

Stanos made a brisk walk to the room where Rainer was at. Rushing into the room, he said, "What'd ya find, kabos? By the way, next time you separate yourself from us I'll shoot you my fuckin' self. Roger?"

"Yes, sir" Rainer stammered. He pointed down at the floor of the open closet. "Look at that," he said.

The kapitán turned his head in that direction and fixed his gaze upon the two thick doors of a vault that looked to lead somewhere under the house. "Holy shit, they have a safe room." A smile crept across his face. "The fucker is putting up a challenge. I can respect that. I'm just going to fuck him up more for it, though."

The two men walked back through the central corridor, back to the master bedroom. Team 2 had joined up by then after another sweep of the house and another confirmation of its lack of life, other than the commandos. They turned to Stanos when he walked in and, thinking on his feet, he started giving his orders with no delay, "Martens, go to Team 1's ORV [off-road vehicle] and fetch me a metal-encased box you'll find strapped to the belly of the carriage. Bring it to me." The soldier trotted off. "Korbán, take Team 2 and set up post outside. I want to know if there's anyone moving out there. Have a man watch the road back to town, give me warning on any traffic — there shouldn't be any, so if there is, consider it something worth reporting to me. One more thing, if anyone makes you out, kill it and hide the body. And don't be complacent. Someone is going to hear us and they're going to want to take a look."

"Yes, sir," Team 2 leader nodded and started out the door, his team forming up behind him in another solid line, snaking around the corner in order and harmony. Rainer, the 'novice' of the group, had thirteen years of military experience. These were the best of the best in the Fuermak, although rumor was that there were more elite special forces units still — a common assertion when no one really knows how deep the rabbit hole goes. So, yea, when they moved they looked like an elegant lioness moving swiftly through the tall grasslands of northern Zarbia. They're pretty badass.

Stanos turned back to the remaining two men with him, Rainer and Marsel. The latter was still standing by the door, quaint semi-auto at the ready. The kapitán looked around, but kept quiet. Sometimes awkward silence proffered him an opportunity to think without interruption. The vault. He needed to get past the doors. They look thick, which means they're reinforced and made to withstand some force. No worries, that's what explosives are for. But, bombs make booms, and booms tend to be heard. That narrows the window for escape. The original plan was to extract Rochevksy, dispose of his family, and bring him to an undisclosed safehouse set up by operatives in Kendrov's intelligence network. Once there, they'd torture him for no reason other than pure sadism. When satiated, they'd kill him and leave his body and the equipment. Then off to the next target. But, the need for explosives put a wrench in those plans. They'd attract attention, and they'd invariably have to shoot someone, and they'd have to get the hell out of there before shit got messy. So, Stanos changed the mission in a snap decision. They were just gonna kill all of their targets here, at the summer home.

It took a minute or two for Martens to come back with the plated box. He handed it Stanos, whose arm fell a couple of inches from the weight of the package. He set it down carefully on the ground, falling to one knee as he operated the locks and opened the top of what turned out to be a boxy briefcase. Inside, neatly arranged within insets carved in some kind of special foam, were four bars of explosive. He slipped two fingers under each side of a bar and, one bar a time, carried them from the box to the vault's doors. He arranged them with some pattern in mind along the doors and finally had his team move back into the corridor, using the wall to separate them from the blast. The explosives were connected to a trigger, which was controlled by the kapitán. Once they were in proper cover, Stanos pressed the red button and there was a loud boom from within the room. A curtain of smoke shot through the doorframe like a relentless storm, filling the hallway and seeping into the living room. Within a few seconds it started to settle, and by that time Team 1 had covered half the distance back into the room. The now-open doors revealed a fairly eloquent ladder, which led downwards. So, they took it.

It was not very deep. Rainer was first to touch the ground. As soon as he foot was firmly planted on the floor, a shotgun blast from somewhere in front of him threw him backwards into what sounded like a cabinet of shattering plates. Rainer shot back, using his carbine to spray everything before him. It must have worked, because there was no return fire. Stanos, coming in second, quickly made his way down, quickly snapping his rifle into proper stance within the blink of an eye. He scanned the dark room he had landed in, a small vestibule of some sort. It was tiny; packing four guys in it would start to make things uncomfortable. So the kapitán planned his next move before Martens and Marsel hit the ground. He first field diagnosed Rainer, who was spread out against the remains of an annihilated wooden hutch. He looked dazed, but it seemed that his body armor had saved him from any essential damage. He'd just need a few seconds to get re-oriented, no biggie. Within a split second he moved on to the next thing, which was to annalize the threat. The enemy had retreated through a tight hallway that ran off to somewhere as of yet unexplored.

As soon as Martens came down and was ready to follow him, he started moving down the corridor. Behind them, Rainer was getting back up. It looked like he had gotten some shrapnel to tear through parts of his arm. Nothing major, but he'd be no good for a firefight. Marsel came down the shaft next, nodded at Rainer when he landed, and then fell in place behind Martens. The three slowly crept through the confined space of the hallway, rifles straight trained ahead. The passage curved to the right, meaning that whatever it was they were heading towards was hidden from view until they had gotten past the bend. Shotgun-man, or woman, would probably be there too.

"Whatever you see, kill," said Stanos just before getting to the bend in the hallway.

Coming into view was a large room, with a beautiful cherry dining table sitting in the middle with high-backed chairs. In the corner there was a rather bulky refrigerator, closed off on either flank by counters, which were populated by obviously-used cooking electronics, dirty pans, and a pool of uncleaned breadcrumbs. And standing there in the middle was Anton Rochevksy, shotgun rifle set firmly against his shoulder. He got off one round before Stanos hit him with one round to the side of the gut, another somewhere near the stomach, and the other in the journalist's right-arm. Rochevsky dropped the shotgun and retreated back into another hallway, this one shorter. At the end of it there was another reinforced door, which he closed and sealed behind him. The gods be damned.

Martens had to make another run, this time to Team 2's ORV, where there was another pack of explosives stored in the same place as Team 1's ORV. He brought it back in just under four minutes, making record time up and down that ladder. This time, Stanos only used on stick. This door was smaller, and he had probably used too much upstairs anyways. This time he hurried, though. Stanos made a quick check-in, "Korbán, any signs of life out there yet?"

"No, sir. But we heard the explosion and I'm sure they did too."

"Roger that, we're trying to hurry. Stay awake out there." With that, Stanos got back to what he was doing before.

He set the explosive off and the door literally blew inwards, weakening the locking mechanisms on the hinges and making enough room for Koro Kirim to walk in and around. Apparently, Rochevsky had at least one more weapon with him in that inner room, because he started firing wildly before the soldiers even hinted at entering. Martens took point this time, Stanos behind him, and they stepped their way around the wrecked armored door. Using the severely dented and defaced remains of the door as a shield, they waited until Rochevsky had spent his clip. They figured he'd need to pause for a reload. So, when the senseless shooting stopped, Martens popped his torso around the edge of the door and peeked in with carbine in hand. He took Rochevsky out with a bullet to the chest, and he shot his youngest daughter — merely six years of age — next with a round to the head. At least she died an instant death, a laughable sort of mercy. The mother, Alexansandra Rochevska, fell to her knees as she screamed in pain. Martens didn't shoot her immediately, "allowing" her to digest the death of her dear husband and her beloved daughter.

Licking his lips, Martens darted towards the two bodies like a hyena making a move on a carcass and took the girl's corpse in his hands. He propped her torso up against his arm and used his other one to unsheath his eight-inch machete. Raising it in the air, as the mother wailed in the background and the other daughter's face contorted in pure horror, he brought it down with great fury at an angle towards the dead girl's neck. The sharp steel blade sliced through skin, muscle, and bone alike, making a clean sweep across to the other side. Head in hand, Martens let the body fall the ground, acting like a nonstop fountain of blood and painting the floors red. He let out a passionate scream as he saw the end of Stanos' dash to Alexansandra.

The kapitán grabbed the mother with one hand on her neck and the other across her breasts. It took only another second for a short sword with a hilt made out of golden wood to carve Alexansandra's neck open with its thirty-two inch blade. It was by no means a clean murder. Major arteries severed, spurts of blood shot up onto the ceiling and all over the room, including the now sole living survivor of Anton Rochevsky who had fallen on her butt on the floor while crying. Taking Alexansandra's severed head in his left hand, he swung his right arm and drove his sword right through the other daughter's heart, killing her. He took her head too — the leader should always prove himself by getting the most out of the hunt.

He was about to turn to the body of Rochevsky, but from the doorway someone barked, "Leave him, he's mine." It was Rainer.

"I don't recall you killing him," said Martens. "If I remember correctly, I did. So I, if anyone, should get his head."

"He shot me, and I got first shot on him. So fuck you!" He turned to Stanos. "And, with all due respect, back off kapitán."

"Fair enough," replied Stanos. "I'm busy anyways." He took two pieces of rope from one of the flaps of his pants, and he tied one end of each rope around the base of the mother's and daughter's heads. The other side he attached to his waist, and they dangled and banged against each other as he stood up and walked around after.

Rainer used a fierce-looking hunting knife to do his own dirty work, sawing through the bone and muscle rather than slicing it in one fell swoop. It took some time and blood got everywhere. This kind of beheading was always particularly gruesome, and while this kind of thing would have had every Koro Kirim warrior entertained a century ago, nowadays most guys preferred to just do it quickly. Maybe they had lost some of their edge. But, you need some moral compass. Otherwise you're just a psychopath, and with psychopaths you lose discipline. Rainer lacked discipline. Finally, he pried the head off, skin dangling in uneven lengths like the tentacles of some kind of sea creature. The blood quickly drained, meeting that already pooled below along with that of the body. Rainer did the same with the head as the kapitán did, first crouching in order to get the rope set up and then rising when finished. To the side, Martens did the same with the younger daughter's head. Only Marsel was left kill-less today. Hey, you snooze you lose. Before leaving the blood-washed room, they took out spray-paint cans and decorated the walls with some fascist symbols, and then did the same upstairs. They wanted to make it look as much as a gang job as possible, even though the use of high grade explosives would cause questions. When done, they left as silently as they came.

Four headless corpses were strewn across in an open road-side clearing on the other side of the road. They had probably come from nearby rural houses — farmers sleeping outside the village because they were watering their crops or had an early rise. Well, they wouldn't be waking up tomorrow, that's for damn sure.
Last edited by The Macabees on Mon Aug 17, 2015 10:49 am, edited 8 times in total.
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Mokastana
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Mokastana » Fri Aug 14, 2015 12:24 pm

Presidential Palace
Mokastana City, The Islands
People's Unified Federation


President Henry Milano sat with his Security Council to determine their best course of action regarding what had originally been a small bushfire in the West. Though it was still relatively small, the number of nations involved continued to grow far quicker than anyone thought comfortable.

"Intelligence shows that there are Macabeen forces located in Red Star Union, probably with the intention of supporting the Ordernites. Current theory is company size unit of Koro Kirim, elite special forces from Macabees."

Generalissimo Gorbechov's Slavic accent was more prominent than usual, probably from speaking with Unionist commanders lately. The President looked over the Army file, viewing the photos and short documents put together.

"Elizabeth, please contact the Golden Throne's embassy and find out their intention regarding the Red Star Union. Ignore the fact we saw their force, just open up a dialogue."

"Si, Senor Presidente."

The President flipped to the other folder, provided by the MBSA, regarding Castillian operations.

"Mr. Francisco, would you please share what I'm looking at here?"

"Si, Mr. President, it seems the Castillians are, once again, saying one thing and doing another. Naval intelligence from Naval Station Norte Mar shows a large Castillian Fleet leaving last month, and Monavian satellite images show what appears to be Castillian vessels landing in the largest Ordernite controlled port. Given the number of matching ships, it is, highly likely, the same fleet."

"Do we not still have forces in Castleclose Generalissimo Gorbechov?"

"Da, Comrade President. About four divisions. Mostly paras and infantry. We are still waiting for the Castillians to close their re-education camps, but they've been delaying, claiming peace talks with Imbrinium."

"Good. I would recommend we deploy armor and heavy weapons there. At the very least double our forces. After all, we did offer to back them. If the peace talks are taking this long, we should prepare for treachery, just in case."

"Da, comrade President."

"Very well, for now everyone is dismissed, we'll meet again after lunch with updates. Thank you... Mr. Francisco, please wait up, I have one more thing to ask of you."

Everyone shuffled out of the office, the Primary Admiral and Air Marshall knowing for the moment they were on support detail. Elizabeth Franshaw looked back as she left, curious what the president wanted to leave out of meeting. More importantly, what he didn't want her to know.

When the door's electronic lock engaged behind the last member of the Security Council, the President began:

"The Ordernites are becoming a reoccurring problem, no? Tell me, what's the status of the Project Snow White?"

Director Francisco perked up at the not so subtle direction the President was going in, but played along as anyone would:

"Trials are showing promise, especially with the newest samples. Turns out Imbrinium scientist know what they are doing. Or at the very least they know proper breeding techniques. Would you like to see?"

The question asked for confirmation of the hint rather than its verbal meaning.The President smiled and looked back at the satellite images of Red Star Union.

"No, not today. But it might be time to give it a field test." That was all the confirmation the Director needed.

"It's possible the Castillians have already shares their research with the Ordernites."

He spoke straight forward, ensuring the President knew exactly what to expect. President Milano responded in the same mildly amused way he might to a child telling him which cloud looked like a bunny.

"Then they should do well at preventing another outbreak."


Refugee Camp
New Impen


Sasha sat in the corner of her assigned tent, the heater in the center barely warmed itself at night, much less the bodies of those around her. It turns out everyone had attempted to evacuate to the Capital during the blitz. Thousands if not millions of displaced persons littered the camps both outside and around the city. Political officers would occasionally explore the camps, looking for any able bodied man capable of carrying a gun for drafting.

Those that were selected got a coat, a rifle, and moved to the camps across the valley. Not that anyone could tell the difference between a refugee and army camp out here. Perhaps high command was betting on that. Military convoys would bring in men and supplies south and return with more refugees north.

What mattered to her though, was that getting your hands on Mokan Leaves was next to impossible here. She still had a few hidden on her from when she fled Tuktar, but the price was rising almost daily. Already she knew of one murder over drugs, and word was getting around that the local gangs were roughing up new arrivals looking for some.

"Hey! you!" She turned around out of fear, half expecting local muscle to come to get her small stash. Someone must have seen something! But it wasn't thugs, not this time. It was her old dealer from the square, somehow he had made it out alive. The Fear subsides but her guard was still up.

"Mikhail, what do you want?"

"Sasha, is that a way to greet an old friend?"

"Depends on what you want Mikail."

She glared at him, waiting for him to give her a reason to walk away or shank him.

"I would prefer to discuss this in private."

The smile gave an indication of what he probably wanted from her, but unless he could pay, it would be pointless to ask.

"Do you have anything worth having?"

"Not at the moment, but I think you'll still like to hear my offer."

She turned to walk away, but her arm was captured in his grip. She spun around, blade in hand ready to make him bleed, but the taste of a Moka Leaf was pressed against her lips, it's bitter flavor was even sweeter than she remembered. The anticipation of the drug made her quiver in excitement. She had been saving her own for really bad days, careful to ration what little highs she had left. Pulling her closer to him, Mikhail whispered into her ear.

"I have a contact who wants to bring in more, but he needs our help. We will get the first hits."

"Why me?" She asked more out of habit than anything else, her mind focused on the drug at hand.

"Why else?"


Gryaznaya
City north of New Impen


The first PMC flights in country brought anti air systems, backed by Mokan SkyGuard batteries, together they managed to... at least contest the sky around Unionist controlled locations. Backed by the small Mokan supplies Union Air Force, the transports arrived. Following the anti air came the soldiers and equipment, unloading and preparing for combat.

It was becoming clear that the Ordernites were attempting to circle the capital, cut it off and lay siege, but Unionists high command could not allow that. Letting the Capital be cut off would end the battle before it began, so they had to keep the supply lines open.

Just south of Susol, the modernized and well trained portion of the Union Army was rallying their forces. Leaving those further south to hold until reinforcements could arrive. The mercs would be that reinforcement until the Grand Red Army was ready to finally take to the field.


Outside of Yukar

The Captain set down his blade and ripped the freshly cut face from its skull. Blood splattered and flowed everywhere as expected, it was all part of the ritual. The skin came off easy enough, they all did once you got the motion down. A quick stab in the skull and hook through the trophy and he was ready to go. Wiping his hands on the corpse's uniform he headed for the other room, the one with all the screaming.

I prefer for enemies that put up a fight. They are much more worthy.

Entering the room he saw two fellow commandos holding down a captured fascists as the third did the cutting. The Captain smiled at the scene, then to the two remaining prisoners on the floor, even if the smile was hidden behind his leathery mask. It had originally been three prisoners, but their commanding officer chose to be sacrificed rather than answer their questions. A quick blade into the skull and silence filled the room once more. The Captain squatted down to be at eye level with the two remaining kids in fascists uniforms.

"So...you see your options, our Gods only want the best. So if you resists and don't tell us what we want to hear, you'll die with honor, just like your commander there. Of course we'll beat on you first and maybe cut a few trophies off to make sure you're worthy, but we'll respect you.

Or, you can tell us about these special squads going around killing communists. If we like what you have to say, you may get to live, but... we can only spare one, so this is what I'm going to do. I'm going to separate you two."

Looking at the guy on the left he pulls out his knife and points to him.

"You are going to be dragged to the other room, and once you're both ready, we'll start asking questions. The first to talk lives, and the other becomes a sacrifice. Sounds fair? Good. Tototl, haul this one over. We'll see who speaks first."

As the young enemy soldier was being dragged off the captain thought to himself....Cutting off heads, in private at least, was not something the Ordernites did normally. They did public executions or mass executions. Things out in the open to show their power. They would kill their targets and the families, then advertise it. Something was very different here. Were the Macabeen forces in play? Whoever was doing these killings, he would have to meet them.


20 Kilometers east of New Impen

Guns had been easy to come by, with a war going on and soldiers dying left and right, many battlefields had been left to the vultures. Illegal guns had also been smuggled in from dead warlords in Holy Panooly, not like they needed them anymore. With a rising drug industry in RSU it was the Cartels who needed them more.

Luckily the deal had gone relatively easy. No Kalashnikovs fired in anger, and both Mikhail and Sasha had gotten warm food(a new luxury), one free sample of product and a place to camp for the night. The plan was for Sasha and Mikhail would escort the dealers back to camp, pretending to be refugees, then use their camp contacts to sell the drugs. It would be a day and half hike back, so they awoke early.

No one had cars anymore, petrol was reserved for armored fighting vehicles in the war. Horses and other transport were rare as well. For the vast majority of people, walking had become their way of life. So Sasha walked in the cold, between the burned lumber that had been a forest less than a month ago.

Sasha's job was simple, wear baggy clothes to hide the false stomach she was wearing. Somehow she had avoided becoming pregnant in the last few months of her new job, the drugs probably helped. Yet now she was reliving the idea. Luckily a small taste had numbed her before any memories dared to surface.

Mikhael's sneeze caught her attention long enough to focus on something external.

"Shut up you fool." She whispered harshly.

"We are almost there, what does it matter?"

"Shush you two."

Though the Cartel members were great hosts, they had terrible humor. But they and Sasha had a point. They weren't the only game in town, thieves and rivals patrolled the woods as well, looking for easy targets. Hence the mini Kalashnikovs hidden on the Cartels. They would have to dispose of or hidden when everyone got to camp, but for now, it was their defense against an ever growing hostile world.

TO: Embassy of The Empire of the Golden Throne
FROM: Foreign Ministry of the People's Unified Federation

Please forward to appropriate agencies.

To prevent further discourse between our nations over the fate of the Red Star Union, we would like to hold a meeting to discuss the Golden Throne's objectives and interest in the country.

Thank you,

Elizabeth Franshaw,
Foreign Minister
People's Unified Federation




EDIT, ADDED:

Highway between New Impen and Gryaznaya

The Mokan advisors had only two battalions stationed in the capital, mostly guarding the Skyguard batteries that protected the city. Most of the 116th Motor Rifle Division was kept in Gryaznaya and Susol, training the local forces in modern combat and tactics. One full PUF Army Regiment and six divisions(three modernized) stood ready in Gryaznaya as the RSU's sacrificial forces retreated to the developing fortress city. When adding the additional four PMC divisions, the city seemed ready for battle.

The majority of RSU's remaining elite forces were stationed in the Capital itself, surrounded by conscript and refugee punching bags. Eight divisions, a mix of mechanized infantry and armor had taken up positions in the city itself. With artillery of various styles and ages hidden among them.

Truth be told, the RSU Army could not hold onto both cities, and possibly not even one. It seemed the Ordernites were going to attempt a stranglehold of the Capital. Which is why two PMC Divisions and a few local army forces would take up positions along the highway, ready to reinforce whichever city the Ordernites attacked first. The battle for Central RSU was about to begin.
Last edited by Mokastana on Fri Aug 28, 2015 11:29 am, edited 9 times in total.
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Castille de Italia
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Postby Castille de Italia » Fri Aug 21, 2015 7:54 pm

Kamenka, Red Star Union
Castillian forces reinforce and settle into Kamenka

Kamenka was a sizable city near the southern coast of the Red Star Union. Recently liberated by the Black Star Movement, the city was essential because of the resources near it and its proximity to the sea. It was before the conflict home to around one-million people, now only about seven-hundred thousand. Most of the city itself was smoldering rubble, burned out buildings, and the empty shells of grey, dilapidated structures. The landscape was depressing, the rubble in the streets was as prevalent as the bodies that lined them. Fortunately for the Castillian task force, a large government building was mostly intact, with the usual wear and tear of war, but because of its importance, it stood proudly among the ruins. Inside, there were burn piles from Unionist forces burning vital documents, but mainly in a stable condition. The building looked much better now then it did though, with the Castillian flag flying over it, and armed troops patrolling the fenced compound around it.

Major General Black looked out the window of his new office, over the courtyard, at the dead shrubs in their unkempt planters, while Marines milled about, killing time and keeping watch. The only problem that faced the new Kamenka Overseas Garrison was the threat of insurgency from the Unionist forces and sympathizers, Communists who didn't understand why the Ordernites or Castillians were there, who refused to accept the prosperity that their new occupiers would bring. Nevertheless, Black's job was relatively easy for the time being. The Castillian forces would oversee all operations in the southeastern portion of the Red Star Union, and according to new orders received roughly hours ago, prepare for reinforcements, and prepare for full-scale military operations. Black liked the sound of those orders.

The newly established Kamenka Overseas Garrison consisted of the administrative command center for all Castillian operations in the Red Star Union, and the Kamenka International Airport, which was the newly converted military airbase for the Castillian task force. Black knew from a personal phone conversation with the Chancellor that more troops would pour into the Red Star Union, and there would be a significant naval and air presence on the way as well, it was just a matter of when. And Black had a feeling when it came down to war with Varessa that those reinforcements would be there.

Outside the village of Belorechensk
Instilling fear into the Unionist forces

Several IPAV Enoks rolled up onto the ridge that overlooked the small village of Belorechensk. Among them, they were accompanied by a Mercedes-Benz Unimog truck, painted in the olive-drab colors of the Enoks as well. All in all, it was a small patrol force, about twenty Marines. Shortly after the Marines disembarked, a black Enok approached the patrol, bearing the seal of the Ministry of State Security, the SS. It stopped, and Colonel Parker stepped out, in his black uniform and a standard black leather overcoat draped over him, the heavy rain still bearing down over the godforsaken land.

"Major Bentley!" Parker yelled over the rain through a respirator mask. "Set up the mortars!" he exclaimed as the Major relayed his command to the patrol. The Marines quickly unloaded four mortars from the Unimog truck, and assembled them with speed and ease. Then a black case was pulled from the Unimog with a biological warning emblem emblazoned on it in several locations. The Marines were all in CBRN protection gear, which kept them very dry in the rainstorm as well.

"The mortars are ready sir!" Major Bentley shouted back to Colonel Parker. The Colonel gave a nod, and the Major yelled the order to fire over the roar of the rain. The shells flew out of the mortar tube as soon as the cords were yanked, and small explosions could be seen in the village, undoubtedly waking up everyone in the village. Unbeknown to the villagers though, as they exited their homes they would be exposed to Botulinum toxin spores, and would die of Botulism within a few weeks, with very few ways to beat the disease.

As soon as the shells landed, a second force rolled up into the center of town, killing random people indiscriminately. This village was known to collaborate with the Unionists, and that was unacceptable. A few would die now, but many would die in the next few weeks. But it was not simply to punish the people for siding with the Unionists. It was to make an example of them, because this would not be the only village to face the same fate, many others would, the Fegosian mercenaries would, more than likely rhe Varessan forces would, and possibly even Mokan troops. The reign of terror had officially begun, guillotines falling.
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United World Order
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Postby United World Order » Fri Sep 11, 2015 6:36 pm

Highway between New Impen and Gryazanaya

In the skies above the highway which split off going either to the prized capital of the now crumbling communist state or the next target in the Ordenite offensive which was the city of Gryazanaya, were several squadrons of Tornado IDS and Lu-45 aircraft which were headed directly for the highway it's self which was defended by enemy forces. Once the distance was closed in between the enemy ground forces and the squadrons they immediately begun launching primarily air to surface munitions, shadowhawk cruise missiles, brimstone ATGMs and CPU-123/B Paveway II which are a cluster bomb munition which was also included in the barrage from the air. Additional squadrons would also begin making bombing runs as they were updated of the enemy's resistance and strength as the upcoming battle started and became on-going. On the ground, first contact with the enemy would be made with the Ordenite SS spearhead which was a full corps sized element which lead the way for the rest of the mobile mechanized forces that would make history on the battlefield.

As the Corps made contact with the enemy it's mobile artillery units begun it's opening salvos on the highway defenders. Following up the experienced Ordenite SS mechanized forces came toe to toe with the enemy as it's LY9 Dire Wolf heavy tanks opened up on enemy armor and mechanized units with it's high pressure ETC 140mm main gun. The enemy had picked the wrong place to make the opening battle in such an open area such as a highway in the middle of rural land as LY9 Dire Wolf's and accompanying armored vehicles exploited such open ground against the enemy utilizing what it could to get flanking shots on enemy tanks and mechanized forces.

Ordenite SS ground troops were utilized in the mechanized assault with mop up operations or clearing out trench lines and other infantry fighting positions. Experienced in low and high intensity warfare along with it's deemed superior training the Ordenite SS were giving the defenders a run for their money as the opening battle continued. The battle for central RSU had begun in full swing.

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Mokastana
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Postby Mokastana » Thu Sep 17, 2015 7:31 am

Refugee Camp
Outside New Impen


"Shh, drink this."

Sasha leaned in towards Mikhail, trying to get him to drink some soup, but it was going nowhere. His fever had risen high enough to cause gratuitous sweating despite the cold. When combined with his vomiting and other messes, it meant that he was losing fluids far more quickly than he could consume them. Disease was not uncommon in the camps, for low standards of living plus cramped quarters made many sick, but this was different. Too many people were sick, even the guards and political officers seemed to come down with it. Yet, the government was more concerned with protecting the army than it's people. So it fell to the Cartels to bring in medical drugs, which they gladly did...For a price.

However, something new going on, far to many people were falling ill, half of Mikhail's network was bedridden, and they had only begun raking in the money less than a week ago. Perfect time for an epidemic.

As she was just about to give up, a tap on her shoulder made her turn around, the one Cartel member with broken Russian was back. Asking what she seemed to understand as, he wanted her to come with him for... Distribution?

"No, I cannot, I am not the dealer, Mikhail is the dealer."

It was true, these were Mikhail's friends at the different sites they visited. Though Sasha had gone on the trips it was because her false pregnancy made transporting drugs easy, not because she knew anyone or was particularly useful. However, it did not seem like he was going to take no for an answer. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the tent, soup splattered across the floor. She reached for her knife but the Cartel soldier countered with ease, disarming her and continuing along.

No one seemed to notice the woman screaming and being dragged away by the Cartel. They had built a reputation around the camps for their power and ruthlessness, and after they executed a political officer in broad daylight, no one wanted to touch them. The people now feared the Cartels more than their own government.

"Where are we going? The this isn't the route we take to deal drugs!"

"Shut up."

They passed one of the camp's guards, who merely turned around. Everyone else followed suit. Soon Sasha resized just how much control her "friends" actually held here. After nearly 20 minutes of walking they approached a medical district, far different than the ones she was familiar with. This one was guarded by foreigners, with plastic gear over their bodies and plastic guns in their hands. Even the chain link fence wore plastic, though more likely to prevent people from looking in. Not like it mattered, once through the gates she could not see anyone outside of it's white plastic tents.

The cartel member escorted her inside one and pushed her in, where she saw something straight out of a science fiction movie. These weren't the moth eaten coats or dirty labs she had grown accustomed to in the last few months. This was... Fancy, clean, and beyond her understanding. People walked around in the same plastic suits as the guards, the sound of breathing devices hung in the air as fellow refugees were poked and prodded, but said nothing. The cartel and a foreigner exchanged words in rapid fire Spanish, a language she recognized, but did not know.

The cartel member left, leaving Sasha scared and alone. The foreigner with her now was an older man, his white hair and thick glasses stood in contrast to his almond complexion. He wore a plastic suit like the others, but his face was only protected by a breathing mask.

"Sasha, hello, my name is Chief Doctor Romeo Allende, you're safe now. We are a medical team from the People's Unified Federation, and we need your help."

His Russian was good, better than many of the other dark skinned foreigners she dealt with so far, even with the filter obscuring the words. Not that she trusted him, but still, it seemed like she had no choice at the moment.

"Help... with what?"

"We are afraid that the virus going around camp is something I've seen before, I would like to get a blood sample and offer you treatment. You see, your friends told me they saw a low flying drone pass by when you were walking here. I fear you may have been exposed to a dangerous pathogen."

"What?"

"It's called, Varathon Blood Fever."


Outside of Uslan
Charlie Company(Decentralized status)
20th Battalion, 33rd Maritime Assault Division


Captain Saragoza wrapped himself in his DPU pattern cloak and continued to watch the barren road. Ordernite supply lines now pushed out of Uslan and towards Gryaznaya. While their blitz tactics ensued the front would continue to move in their favored direction, it left the territory behind them less like occupied territory and more like anarchy. Technically local governors were being set up, and they had Jackboot thugs to enforce their will, but so did Cartels and the fiefdoms established by deserters. Not to mention village militias and communists insurgents.

Real control would take time, and in that chaos Charlie Company would continue guerrilla operations as they moved north, back to the front line.

Lucky for them, the winter snow was a few months away and the fall weather allowed them plenty of cover. Not every abandoned vehicle, tree or pile of rubble or leaves could be checked for traps, not unless the Ordernites wanted to slow their advance, and even cleared spots could be visited again.

Two convoys had already passed the trap, mostly armor and heavy vehicles. It was the supply vehicles and troop transports they were after. After waiting patiently, the Transportpanzers and supply trucks came into view. Once they entered the kill zone, spotters would activate their Explosively Formed Penetrators, hopefully stopping the vehicles and forcing them to engage. Upon confirmation of the vehicle kills, a few snipers would take easy shots on exposed crew and infantry before the ambush team fled to predetermined rally points.

Other traps being set up by Mokans might include, engulfing the road in a flammable gel that would stick to truck tires, burning through them if the driver moved forward. RSU quality rockets and machine guns set on triggers, imitating an ambush. Or simple IEDs on the roadside by themselves. Of course, these would be on top of actual ambushed and strikes.

Guerrilla warfare had long been a staple of Mokan doctrine, forcing opponents to deploy more forces to their occupied territory while deteriorating the morale of their enemies. The Mokans would ensure that Ordernites and their allies would never feel 'truly' safe outside of their camp grounds... Those would be targeted soon enough.


Highway between New Impen and Gryazanaya

Ordernite tactics seemed not to have changed during the war, and for the most part they had worked against the local unorganized Soviet era forces. However, this was the Capital. This was Gryazanaya. And this would be the opening moves of a true resistance against the Ordernite threat.

Giving away their intended target, long range Radar from Mokan, PMC and RSU air defences picked up the enemy air squadrons moving towards the 423 kilometer long highway between the fortress cities. The Ordernites were assumed to be attempting to cut off the cities from one another and take out the reserve forces stationed in between. S-400 and S-300 batteries opened fire with long range missiles from both cities, flanking the enemy air squads as they grew closer. Patriot PAC-2 missile batteries defended the highway from cruise missiles and incoming bombers. But that was not all.

MIG-29s, kept on stand by and drilled for the eventual UWO push, flew out from both cities to meet the enemy, contesting the skies against the bombing runs and their escorts. The enemy would be flanked by both sides. Yet, there was still one trick to play. The Warhawks and F-22s that patrolled the skies above New Impen and Gryazanaya respectfully, began their defensive maneuvers. Both had a service ceiling greater than 20,000 meters, much higher than the attacking aircraft. They took to the skies as their comrades on the ground raced to take off and reinforce the combat ceiling. In short, the bombing runs would face a three prong defense: AA missiles from the ground, enemy fighters flanking from both sides, and foreign piloted aircraft from above.

As the occasional lucky bomber made it through air defences and the lead RSU units began to take a beating, army Intel began looking for what the UWO would be attacking with. Not like the Ordernites were trying to hide it, but even if they wanted to, a full army corps advancing is nearly impossible to conceal. When satellite and recon forces got better images, that was when the worry set in.

Dire Wolves, Lyran made heavy tanks were leading the charge. They numbered easily into the hundreds, possibly a thousand. The 125mm guns of the lead T-72s and T-80s would have to get lucky if they were going to stop these panzers. Orders were passed down to lead elements to attack the tank tracks or the back of the turret if the target presented itself, but direct engagement was to be a last resort tactic. Tank traps, trenches, muddy terrain, mines and tank hunter squads would be the primary method of defense for the lead units engaging. Set traps, fall back, it was the plan. It would not be pretty, and high casualties were expected, but additional plans were forming.

Somewhere in Gryazanaya, Generalissimo Felix Salazar sat in a bunker, working with his Unionist counterparts to defend the Capital. When intelligence confirmed images of Ordernite Dire Wolves, he finally showed a little worry on his face.

"They should not have those."

The Dire Wolf was supposed to be reserved for Allied and Covenant States, a powerful spearpoint for the Lyran block to use against its adversaries, but intelligence had been wrong before. Still, this was a development the "Advisors" were not expecting.

"Change of plans, the United World Order is in possession of Restricted Lyran Technology, it is our duty to eliminate as many of those tanks as possible. Send these confirmations to Juventud Island, get me New Impen Rocket command, we have new orders to issue."

The advantage the Mokans had in this combat was their familiarity with the Dire Wolf. They had trained with it, studied it, and planned for a situation like this. One might call the Mokans paranoid, but situations like this only reinforced that behaviour. Mokans studied all their tools, they knew the average IR signatures and how they looked on radar. If anything, the Dire Wolf's attempts to dampen its signatures would only highlight itself to those who knew what to look for.


The LY9/M22 Dire Wolf Heavy Tank is currently the largest and most well armored fighting vehicle in the Federal Land Forces. Due to this status as a behemoth on the battlefield and its accessibility through vendors, such as Lyras Arms, states that may not have the Federation’s best interest at heart may acquire this weapon in the future. This chapter will give a brief overview of how the Federal Land Forces plan on countering this threat on the battlefield, in order from safests to most difficult. Battlefield situations may require deviation from these methods, but that is to the CO’s discretion at time of combat.

1)Rocket and Artillery support:

The 155mm artillery shell has been proven on the battlefield during the Drug Wars against Cartel acquired armor to have sufficient power to pierce through the top of a Dire Wolf’s armor, damaging engine, turret and sensor/communication devices. Though highly unlikely to completely eliminate a Dire Wolf with only one direct hit, an accurate blow to the engine or turret should be enough to remove its combat effectiveness and require a return trip to a friendly motor pool for repairs. Due to this and additional factors such as ERA, it is advised to target each Dire Wolf with three shells simultaneously.

In the event of a mass Dire Wolf Attack, such as a armored charge or a spearhead assault (as recommended by Lyran Doctrine) the best recommended solution is a cruise missile strike(recommended Hellion due to onboard AI) using Wide area guided anti-vehicle warheads (WAGAVs). A specialized programming routine has been added to the Hellion Software for dealing with a Dire Wolf Heavy Tank charge. The Hellion will assign two Submunitions to each tank, and based on known IR, Radar and other signature patterns of the Dire Wolf, set up attack vectors targeting the vehicles engines from above. Since the engine is placed in front of the crew compartment, there is a short window between frontal armor and turret which can be compromised if attacked properly. Due to the possibility of additional armor being placed there two submunitions will fire in sequence, one to clear any ERA/weaken the armor, and the second will target the signature of the first’s impact. This will ensure a secondary strike at the recently weakened point.

Though the turret is a larger (and ammunition filled) target, a Dire Wolf without a turret can still act as mobile cover and return to base for repairs without assistance. While a Dire Wolf with a damaged engine still can fire, it becomes immobile, which is a key point in halting enemy advance. This will also allow friendly forces to move to safe positions. Due to the difficulty in reaching the engine for normal maintenance, repairs to the engine of a Dire Wolf often cannot be done in the field and require a tow back to a friendly motor pool. Even if the enemy can recover their damaged Dire Wolf, only vehicles of a similar size to the Dire Wolf have the necessary horsepower to tow the vehicle back to its lines

Despite the reduced enemy vehicles disabled by this tactic, it is currently the most effective method for countering a mass Heavy Tank attack.

2) Mortars and Company Level Artillery:


The planned response was one based on those studies. 30 LY300 cruise missile launchers in Gryazanaya were readied. Four Hellion 2 with a WAGAV warhead each. 120 anti armor cruise missiles with 30 sub munitions each. Possibly 15 Dire Wolf kills per missile. Given the open terrain they were fighting in, mostly rural lands near the highways, it was a good chance to break up the attack.

The enemy artillery would also be in for something new. PMC forces near the front had set up acoustic and radar tracking devices, being able to pinpoint the location of enemy artillery and pass on coordinates to the Unionists defender artillery. BM-27s and BM-30s opened up with Counter Battery fire(HEAT and AT minelets), before scooting off to resupply points carefully concealed. No doubt this decrease in reaction times for the counter battery fire would catch the Ordernites off guard, but they would more than likely adapt soon enough.

In the trenches the less skilled conscripts and cannon fodder would probably do terrible against SS infantry, but their deaths would slow the advance, which is what they were there to do. Whether they knew it or not.
Last edited by Mokastana on Thu Sep 17, 2015 12:15 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Trust the Mokans to be armed even when among their allies
-Zaheran

The fact that the Mokans hadn't faced the same fate was a testament to their preparedness, or perhaps paranoia
-United Gordonopia

Moka you are a land of pimps, prostitutes, drug lords, and corruption.
We love you for it.
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United World Order
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Ex-Nation

Postby United World Order » Sat Sep 19, 2015 10:55 am

Highway between Gryazanaya and New Impen.

The developing engagement between Ordenite forces and the remaining foreign and RSU forces had reached it's climax and was already beginning to slow down. The Ordenite SS corps that spear headed it's "assault" into the defenses on the highways splitting Gryazanaya and New Impen from each other was nothing more then a test of the enemy's resolve and defensive strength. Scores of enemy infantry and mechanized forces had been engaged and either took heavy losses or were completely decimated, the Ordenite SS also took it's share of casualties and losses especially material wise. A dozen or so Dire Wolf heavy tanks littered the battlefield disabled or completely destroyed as the enemy had focused so much fire power on their destruction that it was inevitable it would be assured. Armored vehicles disabled or destroyed which acted as escorts also littered the battlefield as burning hulks of melting metal as the opening engagement had showed a lot about the enemy.

Above in the skies losses were also taken as the enemy had revealed it had formidable air defense linked between the two remaining bastions of resistance against the Ordenite war machine. Although their was minor successes with the bombings against enemy positions and mechanized forces, the formidable air defense soon became too much and all bombing runs and aircraft flights to that area were cancelled indefinitely. The Ordenite SS assault soon became a delayed action of organized retreat from the battlefield as it kept up the appearance it was still on the attack while at the same time falling back to it's more fortified front lines that the rest of the forces that were to be utilized had set up formidable positions of their own. The Ordenite front lines were at least 65 kilometers away from the two cities of Gryazanaya and New Impen and from the recent engagement on the highways the frontlines were 30 kilometers.

The delaying action employed in the case of the Ordenite SS corps pulling out of it's engagement was it's focus on continuing to bombard the enemy frontlines with mortars and artillery while the infantry formed small squads mostly centered around machine gun teams to keep the impression the SS were still in their original position while really they were pulling back to a new position on the current front lines. Ground based jamming equipment was also employed to limit the accurate counter battery fire the enemy was dishing out as the delaying action took place. As the delaying action of the Ordenite SS continued, obstacles were then placed for if the enemy did decide to advance towards the original position that the Ordenite SS corps took during it's engagement which meant an assortment of mines and if any villages were between their original position and the new position, demolitions of buildings to obscure streets and roads would be utilized by the engineers. Small units were also kept in these villages to harass any enemy units that advanced in them, mostly utilizing snipers and machine guns.

Once the Ordenite SS corps made a decent distance between the enemy positions and themselves they continued to fall back towards the front lines.

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Postby The Macabees » Sat Sep 19, 2015 11:38 am

Letter to Elizabeth Franshaw, Foreign Ministry of the People's Unified Federation

It is with great expectations that we reply to your message. The war in Red Star Union has, understandably, risen the likelihood of tensions between our two great countries. The last thing the Golden Throne intends, knowing the steps our two governments have taken in recent months, is to undermine the solid foundations that we've built towards a more cordial political relationship. We hope that a meeting between our delegates will tackle the question of how to pursue our misaligned motivations and interests in Red Star Union without damaging those aforementioned columns on which a new Mokastana–Golden Throne friendship is being built.

We propose that a member of our diplomatic mission to the Kedrov government, Krierlord Mikael Varis, meet with one of Mokastana's advisors in the country. Varis is one of the most senior members of the mission and is a direct representative of His Imperial Majesty Fedor I. His words are officially the Golden Throne's.

Preferably, the meeting should take place in communist-held territory. We would invite you to our quarters in Yukar, but your entry into rebel-held RSU is contingent on the Ordenites. Sending Varis over the front lines into Mokan-influenced RSU will most likely be easiest.

We eagerly await your response,

Lord Ferdinán Lepón
Last edited by The Macabees on Sat Sep 19, 2015 11:48 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Mokastana
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Postby Mokastana » Thu Sep 24, 2015 10:59 am

The Macabees wrote:
Letter to Elizabeth Franshaw, Foreign Ministry of the People's Unified Federation



Lord Ferdinán Lepón,

I have been informed that Generalissimo Minor Felix Salazar has prepared for a meeting with Krierlord Mikael Varis in the city of Gryazanaya. A password attached to this message will be required for when the plane enters Union controlled air space.

It is with great hope I look forward to easing tensions between our nations.

Elizabeth Franshaw
Foreign Minister



Highway between New Impen and Gryazanaya


Alexi aimed his Mosin rifle eastward, towards the Ordernite lines. The Ordernites were kilometres away, but they may have left traps or ambushed behind them. During the opening battle, a few undisciplined units had attempted to pursue the retreating enemy, but they had become bogged down by mortars and temporary defenses. High command ordered units to hold the line, and only use artillery and range against the retreat. For the most part, they stayed.

However, many of the initial lines had been lost by to first attack, only to be abandoned once again as the Ordernites fell back. Behind Alexi's squad, the majority of the highway reserves dug in even further, moving the Unionist front back a few kilometers, but it was better for morale if only a few units moved forward to actually see the carnage.

It was true, the Ordernites had superior training, superior armor, superior vehicles. The dead scattered only served to prove that. Unionist militia lay dead in the trenches, with many killed by accurate shots or vehicle support. T-72s burned, hull exploded open by 140mm guns.

But there were signs the defenders did not just roll over. Ordernite SS bodies were sprinkled in with their Unionist foes. A few well placed traps and machine gun nests had surprisingly high body counts in their kill zones. Not enough to turn the tide, but enough for a few good propaganda photos. What would be the prize photo was clear soon enough. An entire enemy column stood smoking, a few fires still crackled from some of the vehicles.

The photographer got close enough to take a picture of the insignia on the side of the largest tank in the group. The Dire Wolf smoked from it's engine compartment, a body of a crew member propped up against the side armor. Probably executed after capture, or staged to look that way.

Alexi had heard about the devastation the rocket forces could deliver, but hearing and seeing was like night and day. And for the first time in months, this Veteran of the Ordernite invasion, a young boy issued a great coat and ancient sniper rifle, felt a pain of hope in his chest. Perhaps, just maybe, with the grace of whatever God was above then, they might be able to stop the Ordernites again.


Refugee Camp
Outside New Impen


Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs claims that before we can focus on Self actualization, we must meet basic needs, starting with the physiological, then safety, and the need for acceptance. In layman's terms, a person cannot focus on becoming all they want to be if they cannot feed themselves, don’t feel safe, or are emotionally alone. A hungry person will look for food, an unsafe person will attempt to find shelter, and a lonely person will desire company. Individually, solving each need can be done rationally and logically. When the problems are common among millions of people, however, rationality ceases to exist. It does not matter what the ideology or greater goal is: The stomach will always scream louder than philosophy. The desire to live will always outweigh the Greater Good.

It started as most riots do, someone got mad because they wanted more. This particular argument was over soup, but no one was paying attention to the amount of tinder left underneath this particular spark.

It doesn't even matter who threw the first punch. Others soon joined in, turning a docile soup line into a snarling beast within seconds. The staff in the kitchen fled, leaving the food to the ravenous crowd and soon everyone wanted their “fair share." Fights broke out, chairs and kitchen supplies became bludgeoning weapons. Knives were pulled. The guards chose to flee with the staff rather than be torn apart by the growing anarchy. As the crowd grew and fires started, a full company of militia was called in to secure order. They had only limited training and what skills they had been taught were not ones of restraint. Mounting bayonets they approached the soup riot and fired into the crowd. Followed by a group charge, attempting to clear the masses. Instead of fleeing, the refugees charged back. Melee combat broke out between soldiers and refugees, and while one side took high casualties, there was always another, and another, to take the fallen refugee's place. It took less than 10 minutes after the first shots for the soldiers to break and scatter.

Once blood had been shed, nothing mattered anymore. Commissars and Political Officers had lost the fear they used to control the population. Many civilians had already lost family members to Blood Fever or any number of the many diseases proliferating the camps, many were already starving and those who had enough strength to fight were already being hauled to the front. There was nothing left for the Communists to threaten with to gain obedience. The rioters stormed the local Commissar office, taking weapons and higher quality food and spreading it amongst their kind.

The beast continue to grow.

Even the Cartel troops soon found themselves under attack. For in the last week Varathon Blood Fever had spread like wildfire through the camps. The terrible conditions and cramped quarters ensured entire sectors would be wiped out before the end of the week. The only people with vaccines and the medicine required to stop it wanted all but the clothes off your back for them, sometimes even that. The Cartel forces, better fed and better armed than even their government counterparts put up a good fight, but the rioters had numbers and stolen arms on their side. The Cartels had nowhere to run. It was only a matter of time before they too were overran.

It was among this anarchy Sasha awoke in her hospital tent. The past few days with Dr. Allende had been a welcome relief, even if it was in 'quarantine’ as her body purged the virus. Technically she was asymptomatic, but she could still infect others. Using the Fegosian experimental cure, they attempted to kill the virus inside her. It reacted. Her symptoms were not as bad as many others she had seen, but the virus fought for dear life as the medicine and immune system slowly killed it. She seemed to be recovering at least. Solid food was staying down again.

Dr. Allende had also determined she was not pregnant, but he didn’t ask why a young woman would wear a false stomach in this Hell hole either. He only wanted to make sure she had nothing to harm herself or others hidden beneath it. He didn't ask beyond that, nor check for himself. Things like that could wait until she was cured. To Sasha, the remaining kilogram of Mokan Leaves and Thousands in local currency felt comfortable. The supplies would be useful if she needed to escape, and today seemed like it would be that day.

The machine gun fire she recognized. The didn't know the exact meaning of the artillery explosions in the distance, but she knew it was bad. Through her clear plastic quarantine tent she could see the staff in panic, running to and fro, trying to salvage any research and moving things outside. They yelled in that rapid fire Spanish she was only slightly familiar with.

"Doctor, what is going on?" Her Russian catching the nearest staff member's attention, but he only shrugged and continued on.

Finally, one of the soldiers she recognized who spoke both languages entered her tent. An interpreter! Instead of packing like the other's he began asking the refugees to stay calm.

"What is going on?" Many, including herself, asked.

"The camp is rioting and possibly, some militia may have joined them. We've been ordered to evacuate. Please wait here until we can prepare proper transport for you all."

And just like, the soldier/translator left, his radio bawking the entire time. Without him the tent became oddly still, then she noticed the rest of the staff had left while he was giving an update.

They wouldn't leave us? Would they?

Office building
Gryazanaya, Red Star Union
100 Kilometers from the front

Generalissimo Minor Felix Salazar waited for this opposite from the Golden Throne to arrive. Why the Foreign Ministry wanted him to talk to the Krierlord was beyond his understanding. Perhaps Mrs. Franshaw, for all her military family, had no idea how the army worked. Or maybe she did and wanted his rough personally to insult the Golden Throne. Either way, he could at least ask the questions that would matter to the local battle, and not about some pointless trade deals.

The biggest question he, and the Ministry, had was what exactly the Second Empire was doing in RSU? Or perhaps more importantly, what was the bigger goal they were trying to achieve by being here? Previous intelligence had shown tension between the Second Empire and The United World Order? Were they making amends? That could be trouble...

In time, he would know, and whether it was from this Macabean or other channels, the Mokans would respond properly.
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Postby United World Order » Thu Sep 24, 2015 1:06 pm

Ordenite frontlines, 65 Kilometers from Unionist/Mokan frontlines, RSU.

The first engagement between Ordenite forces and the enemy was a minor success at best, much was learned about the enemy and their defense capabilities. Once the rear guard unit of the Ordenite SS corps that had fallen back to the current frontlines had made it back successfully the next engagement was already being planned out with adjustments being made to tactics and revision being made wherever it was needed to account to the enemy's defense. The wounded that were salvaged from the retreat from the original position of engagement were rushed to medical facilities on the frontlines while fresh troops and troops involved in the first engagement were allowed to prepare for the next one they would soon find themselves in. The delaying action had succeeded beautifully as the enemy units that did try and pursue the retreat were not permitted to go any further before being hit by mortars and artillery, facing crack troops and the mines that had been laid out in case of a counter attack to ensure the original position was not taken.

Reconnaissance on the enemy after the engagement was also done from both the ground and in the air. Photos and actual accounts were made that the initial engagement had cost the enemy a portion of their frontlines which were deserted while the defenders had also pulled back some from their original positions. Scores of Unionist dead and charred lifeless hulks of tanks and other support vehicles could be seen dotting the battlefield along with what Ordenite losses their were. IMINT sources from Ordenite satellites surveying the area from beyond the earth's atmosphere had also revealed key anti-aircraft positions of the enemy which had contributed to the Ordenite aerial losses in the opening engagement. Other photographs taken were also used in the planning for the next engagement with the enemy in which the Ordenite High Command and Headquarters on the frontlines hoped that it would be the fail swoop that would allow them a straight shot into contesting the city of Gryazanaya and eventually the prized capital, New Impen.


Highway between Gryazanaya and New Impen.

Night had fallen upon the battlefield that the Ordenites and Unionists were spilling blood over. Due to the delayed action taken in the first engagement the Ordenites could plainly move back into their original positions without much fret since the enemy had mostly stuck to their own lines and not pressed a counter attack, allowing Ordenite forces to assemble and position themselves in the cover of darkness for another engagement with the enemy although this one would be different. The Ordenite SS would make their second appearance against the enemy although this time their strength in men and material now amounted to two full Corps sized units. 120,000 men and all their equipment and materials for war had been moved into their positions for attack during the late evening and into the night, camouflage and the changing of what routes the Ordenite forces used played a vital part in concealing as much as they could from the enemy. As before now more prepared, ground based jamming equipment and further assistance from low flying Tornado ECW aircraft which flew low to avoid attracting enemy radar signatures while also jamming the enemy too.

Artillery positions were now more concealed and mostly mobile to ensure quick reaction time to counter battery fire. The two Ordenite SS Corps that now waited for their orders to advance against the enemy were getting their last meals and time to ensure everything was in order. Officers went over the tactical and operational objectives for the second engagement which was drafted up by the Field Headquarters back at the frontlines. A rear guard unit which would consist of a force of a little over 5,000 Ordenite Army soldiers were also getting prepared as they would act as the cover of the flanks during the attack ensuring the enemy didn't try and exploit any weaknesses exposed during the fight. In the midst of what was now considered 'no mans land' between the Ordenite and Unionist frontlines a single flare shot up into the night sky before illuminating over the area, the light illuminated the enemy lines for a little over a minute before the flare descended into the earth. Suddenly the roar of hundreds of guns and rocket tubes disturbed what silence and unsettling peace their was during the night as Ordenite artillery positions consisting mostly of mobile artillery guns including even the 'Donner' Self propelled 600mm mortar and Lyran manufactured LY300's opened up in a savage barrage against the Unionist lines.

With previous IMINT sources having revealed what is believed to be Anti-Aircraft positions that were even within the city of Gryaznaya, most of the LY300's were utilizing their 30 220mm rockets which were also guided to improve the accuracy of the bombardment on these positions within the city while the rest of the artillery barrage was focused on the Unionist lines themselves. The opening barrage lasted for 2 minutes before the artillery units immediately begun to load up and move to secondary positions which were mapped out for the crews. Now the actual battle would begin as the two Ordenite SS Corps advanced towards the Unionist frontlines, what mobile artillery units were attached would continue launching salvos at the enemy lines to suppress the defenses as the advance continued.

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Postby The Macabees » Fri Oct 16, 2015 10:32 pm

The Murder of Ferdinan Lepón — Chapter 3: Collateral Damage
Pezlevko, Kendrov-Controlled Red Star Union

Korbán sat outside of a quaint café in Pezlevko, drinking coffee out of an oversized, porcelain white tea cup. He wore a dark brown leather jacket, collar up and around his muscular neck, with his short hair looking messy — not very military-like — and his all-around douchebag look topped off by expensive carbon frame aviator sunglasses. Across from him sat a beautiful young woman of scarlet hair and large, green eyes. She drank a cup of coffee of her own, which presently sat on a color-matched saucer. The two had met only thirty minutes before. Korbán thought she was cute enough to start a conversation with, to at least pass the time before work. So they did, and he learned a lot about her. She had just graduated from Pezlevko State Academy, the city's largest university, graduating in biological sciences. She found work as a civilian contractor at a naval base about forty-five minutes out of the city. When the base began to suffer intense attacks she stayed at home and now she awaited a new career opportunity. In the current political climate, employment was scarce — especially in the "less practical" fields.

Her name was Elisa Kasyanova, the woman with the brightest, most entrancing smile Emile Korbán had ever seen. She sat there, studying him for a moment. Then, as her gaze fell on his right ear, she said, "What is that strange device you wear?"

Korbán smile. He wore his radio unconsciously now, as just another extension of his natural body. He took another sip of coffee, never taking his cold blue eyes off hers. Then, as he cooly put the cup back on its saucer, he responded, "It's a Bendizer." He tapped on it lightly. "I can receive phone calls on it, and even make calls out."

"Oh." She said sweetly. Elisa smiled again, slightly blushing at the cheeks. "You Macabee and your fancy technology." Of course Elisa had caught Korbán's accent. Her pretty verdant eyes flickered in a way that made her just that much more attractive. She was truly gorgeous. It was too bad their little date would soon end in fiery ruins. Still, it had been a good thirty minutes. Totally worth it, thought Korbán. "I've only ever seen commissars wear devices like that one, and theirs were quite bulky. The Golden Throne must be a place of great wealth. I've always wanted to visit. My mother used to tell me stories. Papa took her there many, many years ago, trying to start a new life."

"Yet, now you are here," Korbán stated the obvious. "What happened?"

Elisa was about to respond when a sudden commotion arose to arise across the cobblestone street. Three or four men, all dressed in fine black suits, were in the process of throwing out a hairless, heavily muscled bulldog. They seemed to be having trouble dealing with big fellow, as he writhed out of their holds and threw a couple of punches. One of the bodyguards was actually knocked on his back by the blow, but he was quickly up and he kicked the unruly man in the face. Even from where he was sitting, Korbán could see the blood squirt out of his nose onto the tiled sidewalk. The three of them were now kicking the clearly defeated man in the gut now, shoelaces to the ribs in a rhythmic pattern, forcing him to roll ever so slowly towards the curb. They went on and on until he finally rolled right into the street, the man coughing up crimson fluids as he tried to lift himself from the ground. It took a little while, but he finally did. At first, the man seemed fool enough to walk right back into that bar, but he must have been ultimately swept by reason, for he decided to walk down the street instead. A very wise decision, Korbán thought.

Packaged delivered. A voice in his ear.

"Well," Elisa exclaimed, "that was much too...violent...for my tastes."

Oh, you poor, poor girl. I'm sorry for what you will soon be forced to witness. Korbán forced those thoughts away, tucked deep to the back of his head. "Yes. And that is why I don't recommend drinking before noon." She laughed. She liked him. Only a girl that liked him could have laughed at that stupid joke. "Anyways, tell me, how did you and your family find yourselves back in Pezlevko?"

"We were deported." There was no resentment in that voice. Only sadness.

"Deported?" he said in surprise. "Since when has the Golden Throne ever deported an immigrant? After all, we are a cosmopolitan people." He said it with a hint of subtle pretension. The Golden Throne, for all intents-and-purposes, lacked border laws. It accepted the world's people into their lands, regardless of income, race, or religion. Their status as a beacon of hope and dreams was a point of great pride, even as currents of xenophobia swept the core of the Golden Throne's people. Hypocrisy is, after all, a deeply rooted flaw in human character. "Was your father a criminal?"

She didn't take it well, although he could tell that she was doing her best to contain the shocked outrage. "Absolutely not!" she finally said, quite loudly. A few people sitting around them, enjoying their morning a the café, turned to give them brief stares. She went on, and Korbán listened, "I had not been born at the time. My parents were young and had only just met. She was nineteen, and he twenty. Times here were very tough here and so they emigrated to the Hitmen isles, before our government was able to fully enforce restrictions on the freedom of movement. From there they continued on to the southern fringes of the Stevidian and Guffingfordi coastlines, until they arrived at the shores of Safehaven. You know, they tell me that Safehaven was very different at the time. They were living off the fruits of their fathers' prosperity and their democracy stood strong and free. The Golden Throne was then still a nascent nation, emerging from the flames of destruction of their civil war. A fractured, war-torn, conflict-ridden land turned into one of opportunity." She paused for a second, then blushed, "I'm sorry, of course, you already know all of this."

Sargént Korbán, stop flirting and pay the fuck attention! It was Kapitán Stanos. Are you in position?

"Yes," said the sargént. He looked at Elisa, who looked like she was expecting a little bit more feedback, and fumbled over his words while he said, "I mean, yes, but it is obvious that you know your history very well. I, unfortunately, cannot say the same. I was only a young boy then, no more than five. I don't remember much from back then. Anything before the war is much too long ago." He chuckled.

Marsel, are you in position? Stanos again.

Yep. I just got some flesh wounds to tend to.

Elisa smiled again. "Well, in any case, they traveled through Safehaven into your country, and after about six months they were deported all the way back here. They've been here ever since. That journey was already harrowing enough to endure once, neither of them ever contemplated doing it again. Me neither, for that matter."

Rainer?

Got eyes on target.

"Nowadays you can take an aircraft direct to Fedala. You don't even have to see the Hitmen Isles." He shuddered facetiously, although the joke was based on the subconscious dislike of those people, given their involvement in The War. "You can visit Indras, Theohuanacu, Guffingford in complete liberty. No one can stop you."

Stanos' voice filled his head again. Martens, go on sixty.

Roger that.

She shook her head and laughed, "With what mon——"

Korbán interrupted her while he reached into his back pocket to take out his wallet. Opening it, he revealed a business card. "This is for my father's bookstore in Beda Fromm. I keep it for sentimental value mostly. Call the number when you want, you will always find a friendly voice on the other side. They will help you and your parents, I promise." He put his wallet back in his pocket and then leaned forward, close, "But, I need you to get up right now and run in that direction." He sharply pointed behind her. "Don't ask any questions. Just get up and run. Trust me." His face contorted into an angry shape and he yelled, "Run!"

At first, Elisa hesitated. But, frightened by his screams, she finally stood and quickly made her way in the direction he pointed, although not quite at a run. She could still sense the pressure building behind her and she even caught a glimpse of the man who she had just had a thirty-minute conversation with stand and reveal some kind of some small automatic weapon. Then she was thrown against the stone wall of the building beside her.

The explosion was larger than Korbán thought it would be. As he saw the fireball expand from inside the bar on the other side of the street, he mused with the notion that maybe the kapitán had mismeasured the size of the bomb. He didn't think about it long, thrown back through the large glass windows that made up the café's façade. They were already shattering from the pressure wave and Korbán could feel the shards slice through his skin. He landed on top some tall gentleman, whom he had knocked off his chair, and they struggled on the floor for a little while. The sargént's ears were deeply muffled, capable of hearing only some abstraction of sound. There was some screaming. Some shooting. Korbán finally picked himself and he wobbled his way back out of the café, which was now a rubble-strewn literal hole-in-the-wall. He stepped over the remains of a body-draped table, cold eyes staring at him as he plowed forward. Finally, he climbed over the remains of the lower frame of front window and found himself outside, much of the sunlight blocked out by a thick fog of smoke, dirt, and random particles swirling around the air like ash.

Kabos Rainer was shooting into the black abyss that once was the bar. His submachine gun spit round after round. Korbán wasn't sure if the man was even firing at any specific thing. Then he saw more clearly. Some of the bar's patrons had survived the blast and were now slowly trickling out. Rainer was gunning them down. They were only after one person, but it was better to be thorough. Korbán shook his head and took a little bit more time to come to his senses, the destruction around him still background noise. He had a weapon. He knew that. The sargént patted around his pant legs, obviously still out of it, ultimately coming up short. Then he proceeded to look through the rubble. Lifting his head for a moment, he saw Elisa pulling herself up from the wall, most of which had crumbled. She was in bad shape, one arm broken, blood covering her clothing and skin. Her hair had gone crimson. The sargént nodded towards some point behind her, indicating her to keep running. She did. He watched her go, hoping that one day he would run into her again — probably not. Reality was starting to come back to him.

Rainer stopped shooting and turned towards Korbán. He started walking over and shouted, "Sargént, should we be getting the hell out of here?"

Korbán shook his head again and quietly responded, "Yea." He was clearly still shaken. Attempting to cover up his moment of weakness, the sargént added, "Let's pop a few 'nades in there, just to make sure we got the job done." He patted himself down again. "Shit, I don't got any. I must lost 'em in the blast."

"No worries, I got you covered." He handed Korbán his submachine gun and said, "I think I got them all, but here, take this, just in case any stragglers come out." The kabos unveiled a grenade and he gave it a good underhand chuck into the now-hole once-bar. He did this again, and then two times more. The corresponding explosions responded in succession soon after. No one came out of that building.

"The target is dead," said Korbán, calmly.

From a corner screeched a black van, side door already sliding open. Stanos was in the driver's seat and an injured Marsel perched inside with his shotgun in his two hands — he was the guy who had seemingly picked a fight with the bodyguards earlier. Rainer climbed in first, Korbán second, pulling the door closed behind him. Seconds later, the van was nowhere to be seen.

And just like that, Roman Popovich was assassinated by a bomb in Pezlevko. A man who had changed his identity to continue to command of the remnant's of the People's Army, soldiers whose units had been defeated in battle by the UWO-backed Kendrov forces and bold civilians who chose to join the resistance against the fascist oppressor. Popovich had evaded Kendrov's security forces and secret police for months now. The Koro Kirim had been handed the contract out of the hope that they could get the job done. They did. A source had given Popovich's new identity away — Aleksei Dementyev. Actually, it was one of the bodyguards. The Koro Kirim had captured the guy out of his house and used the promise of tracts of land in the Havenic Territories — appreciating assets of high value — to persuade him to betray the man he was hired to protect. But, the Golden Throne doesn't pay traitors. Fitting, then, that the bodyguard had been one of those to die here today. Maybe, between the dancing flames in the depths of hell, he would have to finally confront, and face up to, Popovich, for his inexcusable disloyalty. Whatever. Who cared about him or Popovich. They were both dead now.

Along with another fourteen people, half of which were locals simply having a drink in the wrong bar. The news would confirm that death toll later.
Last edited by The Macabees on Fri Oct 16, 2015 10:33 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby United World Order » Fri Oct 30, 2015 8:34 pm

Chernaya, Ordenite Occupied RSU(Kashubia), Central Eastern Dienstad.

Since the liberation of Chernaya from communist forces native to the 'Red Star Union', the city has slowly been returning to a normal bustling city despite the damage from the warfare that took place in the city during the Ordenite assault. Chernaya was now under BSM control and general policing duties were given to the BSM after the city was officially proclaimed liberated of communist forces during it's summer offensive several months ago. In the initial seizure of control by the Black Star Movement, a large sweep through the city by the BSM ended in the capture and arrest of 2,510 Unionist Red Army deserters who were disguised in civilian clothing, 5,000 who were confirmed to be part of the country's 'intelligentsia' and a little over 1000 gypsies. A determent camp was eventually constructed and made active on the outskirts of the city in which it would house the little over 8000 people who were rounded up in the sweep. In the recent weeks with orders coming straight from the Ordenite SS High Command and the Reichskanzlei that a Einatzgruppe would be deploying to the country to support Kendrov aligned motives to remove all communist identity from the country would become reality.

More recently the Einatzgruppe had officially entered the country by sea and would see these motives carried out in the city of Chernaya where 8000 people were now marked for death. When the Einatzgruppe arrived at the temporary detainment camp it was immediately cleared out of it's captives as they were organized into one column and under escort marched to a near by ravine in the near by country side. The ravine was bone dry and was quite large when the column came to a stop near the ravine as they were then organized into several groups which stood in indivual smaller columns. Brigadefuhrer Winfrid Rappard now commander of the Einatzgruppe in the Ordenite occupied 'Red Star Union' stood by a top of the ravine looking down at the first batch of the 8000 condemned to death as they stood inside the ravine. The 'batches' that would be sent down to the ravine would number in the hundreds, near a thousand at most to make efficient use of time.

Winfrid was soon joined by a young officer in the Einatzgruppen as they traded salutations, "Brigadefuhrer, the first group has been assembled, do we have the order to begin?" It was almost ceremonial how he asked Winfrid if they could begin the mass execution, like it was some sort of organized sport. Winfrid looked down at the several hundred of now naked men, women and even children who were condemned to die in the ravine. Winfrid then glared his gleaming light blue eyes on the young officer as he nodded, "Please, begin your duties" he said plainly. The officer saluted once more before returning to a group of fellow Einatzgruppen who then begun relaying further orders to begin the extermination. Since the numbers they would be killing at a time would be quite large and in the hundreds at a time, four machine gun nests were set up along the ravine to coordinate a sweeping fire to kill them hundreds that were hoarded into their graves.

When ready, the four machine gun nests which all four used the MG 3 opened fire simultaneously cutting down the condemned in the ravine within several minutes. After the first batch had been cut down with machine gun fire, a small group of Einatzgruppen entered the corpse strewn ravine armed with pistols searching for any wounded before executing them. This process of execution went on for nearly 2 days before all 8,510 condemned persons were murdered completely by the Einatzgruppe, the ravine was now littered with thousands of bodies of men, women and children who were caught in the sweep. This now marked only the beginning of what was to come in the now Kendrov-Ordenite controlled RSU as death would soon become it's own sport amongst the Kendrov militias and Ordenite death squads.



Rubino, Central Square "Parade Grounds", Central Eastern Dienstad.



The beat of marching drums and march tempo notes from instruments flooded the central square of Rubino as a grand event was taking place in what use to be parade grounds for Unionist Red Army troops during state holidays. Assembled on the parade grounds being on looked by hundreds of locals from the surrounding urban scenery were tens of thousands of fully ceremonially dressed soldiers of the Ordernite Army who had recently returned from harsh frontline combat against the Unionist Red Army and it's mercenary, mokan allies and were now being showcased for their bravery and fulfillment of their duty in combat as the majority were decorated with several ribbons and medals received the previous days leading up to the ceremony. The actual ceremony would be held for the high ranking officers and commanders that commanded their respective units who were also present to watch and would soon parade themselves around the Central Square.

"Attention, officers...non commissioned officers...enlisted men" The speaker began. "Today you have been assembled here because of your courage...and your bravery on the battlefield against the red menace. You are all here because as soldiers of the Ordenite Armed Forces, and for your continuous honor on the battlefield, we happily wish to congratulate and honor all our servicemen who continue their duties as you have pledged you will under take when taking the oath." The speaker spoke before making a pause, he then continued to conclude the short speech. "We will now begin the ceremonial awarding of our prestige officers..." he concluded as the watching crowd clapped in a generous applause.

The ceremony began as a group of well uniformed officers approached a small constructed stage, enough for all of them to stand on it all at once. The majority already had ribbons and medals previously rewarded in previous award ceremonies, in attendance and participating in the ceremony as the person pinning the new assorted medals to these officers, Generalobserst Alfred Becker who currently held supreme reign over all Ordenite combat operations in theatre and is considered one of the elite in the Armed Forces, a trusted man among many. His uniform was decorated with many assorted ribbons and medals over his near forty year career in the Armed Forces, he walked with a confident and pomp stride as he was accompanied by an assistant who held open a small box filled neatly with dozens of medals that were to be given out.

Once walking by and pinning a medal or medals upon each of the officer's uniforms, he saluted and was given the same by the officers who returned the salute as he graciously walked off the stage accompanied by his entourage. The officers then left the stage to a applause by the audience in attendance to watch the ceremony. Once the ceremony was over and the parade grounds cleared, the columns of troops amassed in the central square would prepare to begin their show case march around the parade ground. "Achtung soldaten!" a commanding voice announced which was most likely from a stern officer.

"Present arms!" The voice announced again as all at once the soldiers in attendance raised their arms to a ceremonial holding of them on their right shoulders. They stood at a stiff strict stance of attention.

"Turn...left!" the voice commanded as the columns shifted themselves to the left facing the route they were to begin their parade march.

"...March!" the voice commanded once more as the columns begun their march in step with their automatic G36 rifles holstered proudly with their arm. A military marching band that also accompanied the march provided the music as the soldiers marched around the parade grounds.

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Postby Mokastana » Tue Nov 03, 2015 8:02 pm

Refugee Camp
Outside New Impen


It had been twenty two hours since they were given the order to stay, and twenty one and a half since Sasha cut her way of the quarantine tent and started helping the other's collect anything of value. Outside, a few foreign soldiers waited in defensive positions as the smoke and gunfire got closer. They didn't care much for the refugees exploring the medical tents. If anything, they were friendly, telling them to get down if the shots started and where the food was stored.

Outside of the camp, many refugees had decided to venture into no man's land and Ordernite lines. They must have figured the chance of death was lower in the countryside with Ordernites than the starvation in the city with the Unionists. Of course, others took the highway to Gryazanaya, hoping the safer northern areas could house them.


"It turned out some of the militia deserted, and when they saw foreign helicopters thought they were an attack and shot them down. Never mind the red crosses along the sides. We returned fire, blew up their AA. Anyone still loyal is pulling back to the City limits."

One of the infantrymen, a corporal by the name Stukov, was also an interpreter(though not the one who left earlier). He sat with Sasha and another patient, He didn't seem like he expected another flight out.

"Look, you are good folks, but our guns won't keep the rest out forever. May be good idea to leave before others attack again."

Sasha knew the foreign soldiers were targets, they knew it too.

"Look, my Sergeant has decided that we can open up the armory to you guys. You can probably survive better among the crowd well armed, than you can being with us."

"Da, the rioters are gunning for foreigners now, they have the food and medicine."

The other patient spoke up. He had been a soldier, and survived VBF thanks to the mokan medicines and treatment. It had not been easy, and even now his body moved a lot slower than most men of his age.

"Da, we would be better on our own." Sasha agreed. She had mastered moving in crowds on her own, hiding things of value on her person. If staying here meant she would just be a prize to whoever sacked the medical camp, she would rather be on her own.

"Alright, gather the healthier and non sharing sick people, I'll give you all weapons."

Sasha and her newest temporary ally did as requested. She had never fired a gun before, but was given the basics. But what caught her eye was the Combat machetes. Mostly unused in this environment, but against people in a crowd, it could be a street sweeper. The foreigner appreciated the glimmer in her eye as he handed her one.


Outside of Gryazanaya
Charlie Company(Decentralized status)
20th Battalion, 33rd Maritime Assault Division



Captain Saragoza heard the artillery and roar of explosions in the distance. They were getting close to the front line, but they were still behind Ordernite lines. Traps and ambushes had exhausted most of their armaments. Some of his troops even carried fascists rifles, some even wore (badly damaged) fascists uniforms. It was easier to keep them on then change into them every time they needed bait. Still, they had captured weapons, and Mokan basic training covered guerrilla warfare. Including such activities as turning tank shells into traps, and the many uses of fuel.
With luck, they could sneak past the Ordernites and get back to Soviet lines. Otherwise...

He didn't want to think about otherwise...


Highway between Gryazanaya and New Impen



The refugees rode in the back of Army transport trucks, hoping to make it to Gryazanaya before the next wave of attacks. Outisde of New Impen they could see the heavily fortified still loyal military camps. Rumors had begun to circulate of the army rebellions around the southern and Eastern Camps, but the northern ones stayed loyal, either out of fear from the mercenary forces and Elite Capital Troops or because Fascists cared not if they rebelled or not. It was night outside, and the trucks drove without headlights. Facists forces might be flying overhead or a surprise artillery barrage might be in range, it was better to not announce their location, after all trucks were in short supply, and it would be a waste to lose these so early in the battle. The care of the refugees was a mere afterthought.

One young man was awake as the trucks made their 470 kilometer drive north. Though some trucks had covers on them, this one was a flatbed, packed with as many warm bodies as it could hold. Winter was here, and more bodies packed in, the better their odds of survival. Those who could sleep, did, while other merely tried or held the rough blankets down to keep out the cold. In the distance, he saw a flash of light, then another, then another. Somewhere from over the horizon the fate glow of red streaks rose into the air in rapid succession, only to disappear again into the night sky. Whatever was happening caught his attention, and he sat up, watching for something else to happen. Besides another small show of flashes over the horizon, nothing more particularly interesting happened. With that he laid back down, and stared off into the distance, hoping to see something else.

50 Kilometers to the west

Petyr laid in his trench, ears still ringing from the artillery blast. the flechette of the anti infantry rounds had tore through his company. Only the deafness of a high C note kept the screams and cries of the wounded out of his head. He should probably get up, someone ran by him, yelling something that sounded faintly like a football game score or...orders… was that… others still alive climbed out the trench, other followed the first man. Finally a hand, two hands, maybe more. A face…

“Can you….”

“ve”

“Can…. “

“Can you ...ove?”

“MOVE!”

The hearing was back, the world around him made sense. The company was on the retreat. Orders were to arm the traps and fall back to the next lines. A few boys would be left as spotters, but he was not one of them. AK in hand he stayed low, dodging bodies and slippery blood as they blazed through the trench. Why command was allowing retreats was beyond him, but as long as Commissar’s machine guns didn’t wait for them at the other side, he would be grateful for the chance to fall back…
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Trust the Mokans to be armed even when among their allies
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The fact that the Mokans hadn't faced the same fate was a testament to their preparedness, or perhaps paranoia
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United World Order
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Founded: Jun 16, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby United World Order » Thu Nov 05, 2015 3:46 pm

Highway between Gryaznaya and New Impen.

The vicious artillery barrage that started the new onslaught against the URA was very much successful in causing chaos in the enemy's ranks. Now an entire Ordenite SS corps advanced on them and it could already be seen that the URA lines were capitulating in the face of a superior force. The envelopment was now in full effect as the corps split off into two, one half kept on with the frontal push directly on the Unionist frontlines. Artillery and mortars even continuing to hammer the Unionists seemingly wherever they went, heavy machine gun fire even begun to spray Unionist lines. Leopard 2A5 and the dreaded Dire Wolf Heavy Tanks pushed on their lines backed up by armored vehicles and Ordenite SS mechanized infantry. The other half of the corps suddenly begun coming upon the Unionist right flank with the same mentality as the other, putting suppressive fire on the Unionist defenders with heavy machine gun fire, artillery and mortar fire and even the tanks accompanying the force fired their main guns at any Unionist positions or armor they could find.

Once the Ordenites were close enough to the Unionist lines, the infantry plunged into the trenches and begun moving through them. Any Unionist that was found still inside the trenches they secured were killed on the spot. The Leopard 2A5 and Dire Wolf Heavy Tanks plowed on through the trenches with their tracks also followed by armored vehicles and infantry. The booming sounds of Artillery and mortar fire echoed through the battlefield as the battle carried on. Some wounded were beginning to turn up due to traps left behind by the URA forces now on the retreat deeper towards the city outskirts. Small arms fire soon begun to be exchanged, grenades thrown as firefights occurred through out the besieged frontlines.

A young corporal wielded his assault rifle a KreigStahl manufactured G36. Together with his fellow comrades the young corporal led them on through a section of trenches, they all ducked down low as they moved through the puzzling maze. One of the soldiers amongst their ranks smoked on a menthol cigarette as he checked his weapon which also was a G36. The corporal stopped and threw up a hand signal for the others to stop, they stopped as well. Taking out a pair of binoculars he looked to see how far the Unionists were falling back, he could defiantly see some parts of the trenches were still somewhat manned, muzzle flashes illuminated in the night marking their positions with bright flashes.

"Their falling back" the corporal said and continued. "Some of them are still poking around taking pot shots" he put his binoculars down as he leveled his assault rifle and looked down his NV capable optic. He flicked the laser sight on his rifle as well, the green laser moved about with the movement of the rifle. Spotting a Unionist he illuminated his chest with the laser before letting off a small burst from his rifle, the enemy soldier went down out of sight. The corporal's fellow soldiers most likely part of his troop took up positions along side him and begun laying down automatic rifle fire on the Unionist stragglers. They soon started to receive return fire from a Unionist position, the corporal ordered his men to get down under cover as the loud cracks and whizzes of bullets flew by and over their heads.

The corporal unpinned a grenade labeled 'HE' in large white letters, he peeked up and got a better idea of where the fire was coming from due to the sporadic muzzle flashes. "Fire in the hole!" he announced to his comrades before pulling the pin and chucking the grenade towards the enemy. He ducked down in the trench just in time for when the grenade went off meters in front of them. One of his fellow men armed with a MG4 light machine gun lifted it up and sprayed down the area in front of him for good measure. The corporal looked over the trench as he saw other Ordenite units advancing forward, he waved his men forward as he moved deeper through the trenches.

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Mokastana
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Mokastana » Wed Nov 11, 2015 8:58 pm

Port of Stavropol, Northern RSU
Central Dienstad



It had been months since the intial wave of Mokan forces first took this port, and now, nearly 5,000 Mokan soldiers and servicemen manned the security and training of local operatives in it. It served as the Base of Operations for Mokan Command in the country. Right now it was under the command of Generalissimo Tsu Takamoto, an Aniuen who was second in command for Generalissimo Minor Felix Salazar. Felix was currently commanding the operations within Gryaznaya to counter the efforts of the Fascists forces who were forcing their way into New Impen, leaving his Aniuen subordinate to handle the day to day operations of keeping the supply lines open and training local forces in the proper art of war.

Though all Federal soldiers wore similar uniforms, with rank and identifying marks hidden underneath Velcro flaps, the various cultures of the Federation could be seen in what blade the soldiers carried on their kits. Wellovians tended to carry only the Lycos Combat Machete, while Mokans would carry their slightly uglier homemade variant. Aniuens on the other hand, would often time carry a Tanto or short ceremonial sword of the Katana Family. Not to say the proper blades were not issued when the situation called for it, but culture leaked through whenever it could. It was this blade that would identify him to the new visitors. The men who approached the Generalissimo wore similar outfits in that their identifying features were covered up as well, but the Spanish along the side of the Helicopter they came out of told him all he needed to know.

"Welcome to Red Star Union, I am Generalissimo Tsu, acting commander of Resolucion Naval Yard, please identify yourself."

The man removed a Velcro flap, showing his rank of General of the Federal Marine Corps. The Marines were odd in that Generals, not Division Colonels ran their Divisions, but the rank was mostly identical.

"General William Fritz, Marine Corps, we have two divisions and the associated squids who brought us here. My boys should be unloaded rather quickly so that the helos can help with the army units, guess they finally decided we need heavy armor in this country."

"Welcome General Fritz, according to my notes, the heavy tanks are to be unloaded first, while your units use the beach head, is that correct?"

"Yes it is, give my boys a chance to practice their driving anyways, our LCACs will certainly have their jobs cut our for em, but this way the rest of you army brats can get together sooner."

Generalissimo Tsu ignored the friendly jab, he was not in the mood for jokes. Some might say that he was never in the mood, which seemed odd given his CO's own amusing style, but clearly he had been picked for another reason than his ability to behave oddly like the rest of the External Armed Forces of the Federation.

"Follow me General, I imagine the Division Colonels from the the other divisions will be joining us soon. I will have our formal meeting at 1800, until then please enjoy the communication office so that your units may stay in contact with you."


OOC: More coming soon!
Last edited by Mokastana on Wed Nov 11, 2015 8:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Quotes about Mokastana:
Trust the Mokans to be armed even when among their allies
-Zaheran

The fact that the Mokans hadn't faced the same fate was a testament to their preparedness, or perhaps paranoia
-United Gordonopia

Moka you are a land of pimps, prostitutes, drug lords, and corruption.
We love you for it.
-The Scandinvans

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The Grand World Order
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Founded: Nov 03, 2007
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby The Grand World Order » Sat Nov 14, 2015 11:08 pm

Outskirts of Graznaya

"So, after this it's back to bribing insurgents for information?"
"Yeah. I'm looking forward to it, though. I don't like when the enemy has artillery. I don't like artillery in general, come to think about it."

An unmarked MOWAG Eagle IV sat on the crest of a hill, carrying five men, also unmarked, each wearing different combinations of equipment over analog camouflage uniforms and local effects they had acquired from following the Ordernites around on their campaign across the RSU. They were armed with MI-8A2 modular rifles, each configured with custom receivers to accept RSU-issued cartridges, though a Panzerfaust 3 and SP-G1, a modified GR-1 rifle for sharpshooter roles, were stowed in the vehicle. An assortment of explosives and tools sat in boxes secured in the cargo area. Each weapon was suppressed, not necessarily to avoid detection but so the team would be able to identify their own shots versus someone else's. These men were Orderians, but not soldiers.

The Ordernite military had contracted Geist Solutions, one of the Big Three defense contractors in the GWO and certainly the most powerful PMC in the country, to assist them with operations in a nation the GWO government proper had very little interest in dealing with, even if its ally was locked in there. The contract was primarily force/VIP protection and COIN operations, but Geist wasn't afraid to get their hands dirty with actual conflict. This team wasn't the only one in-country; Geist's mercenaries were present at most places the Ordernites were, mostly working as gate guards for FOBs and serving on personal security details for Ordernite officers who could afford them and felt they needed more than what their own military provided. Only a few of the teams were actually going outside the wire to seek out the enemy and destroy them, and this was one such team.

"COC, this is Ghost One Actual, fire for effect, polar, over," William "Buckshot" Iverson stated into the radio set wired through the truck. In his other hand, a genuinely overpriced set of binoculars with a range finder was held to his eyes. He waited for the Ordernite on the other end of the radio to verify. After, he continued.

"Direction 6130, distance 3110, down 45, over."
"Direction 6130, distance 3110, down 35, over."
"Correction, it is down 45, over."
"Down 45, over."
"Infantry company, in the open, with four trucks, one main battle tank, defensive posture, over."
"Infantry company in the open, with four trucks, one main battle tank, defensive posture. Authenticate tango foxtrot, over."
"I authenticate echo, out."

He calmly put down the radio handset while keeping his eyes on the RSU formation ahead. From what he understood, the Ordernites were rolling up the RSU forces, but some were still holding on. The nine and one percent that Heraclitus spoke of, he guessed. The team's kingpin, Buckshot had served for eight years in the Federal Army, two of those years with the 1st Infantry Division, and three years afterwards with the Army Advanced Paratrooper Service. The rest of his team had similar stories, with decades of special operations experience between the five of them. Obviously, this was far from the first foreign hellhole he had gotten to know intimately, and would likely be far from his last. He was glad, though, that he was out of the Army and with Geist, now; not only was the pay better, but the deployments were shorter and easier for his family to deal with, and he didn't have the headache of being a staff non-commissioned officer managing a host of Orderian soldiers. However, with Geist, he'd still get to do the one thing he was good at.

Around the highway, the team could see the tracers flying back and forth, and the occasional illumination flare shooting high into the sky. There was no worry even though they were relatively isolated; the truck was covered in a camouflage net, with the exception of the antenna which was set up just outside the net to prevent it from attenuating their communication with Ordernite forces. They were acting as reconnaissance for the right Ordernite flank in case the RSU decided to rally and counterattack. Buckshot doubted it.

He watched the artillery start hitting the ground where he had requested. He sighed to himself, and got ready to report the effectiveness of the strike.
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Imbrinium
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Posts: 589
Founded: Mar 03, 2008
Ex-Nation

Postby Imbrinium » Tue Nov 17, 2015 6:25 pm

Intelligence reports flowed into the IIA central area office, the news wasn’t good there was hard fighting on both sides hunger and now diseases running amuck. This troubled combatant command along with the higher officials of the IIA.

The new director of the IIA, Rocco Trevisano and his new intelligence gathering unit 528 which was a part of the new program called Moxus 8 which was still top secret to most in the crown.

The orders where handed down that more intelligence was needed on the ground in RSU. The crown wasn’t all sure that was needed but the intelligence network was still not up to par to tell what was going on the ground there.

The order was approved but along with a medical package along with BRRT, the team from the 528th would fly in with them. Of course there would be a team to speak to the Mokastana forces there on what they needed in support of operations in RSU.
There was also some real worrying intelligence that an outside regional power had been seen on the ground inside the RSU, who and what they where doing there was still unknown.

The 528 would find out.

The 528 put a team together of twelve personal, these personal where all intelligence gathering experts along with weapons and other needed traits needed in a conflict zone. This team would setup here and there and collect intelligence on all forces involved in the conflict.

72hrs later

Eight huge C-10 Montour cargo aircraft crossed the over the southern coast of Imbrinium headed to New Empire to refuel then to Lyras and then the final stretch to the hell hole that was RSU.

Four of the huge cargo planes where the BRRT (Biological Rapid Response Team) to offer assistances to the Mokastana military medical staff on the diseases on the ground there. Three of those aircraft where food and water treatment plant, the only aircraft that was strictly not helpful was the 528th and the team to meet up with the mokas to see what is needed in way of food, medical, weapons and training needed.

36hrs later

The C-10s aircraft approached the crowd airstrip; the airfield was full of supply aircraft and attack aircraft. The only aircraft to stay behind would be the BRRT aircraft because of their labs being built into the aircraft. The 528th plane would be the third to land and be moved into a quick unloading area and unloaded the 528th which in now in country would be called task force Reaper.
The other three cargo aircraft would unloaded in order of landing, the BRRT would be setup at a secure area of the airfield.

TF Reaper moved out about an hour after landing they team moved out in four vehicles two heavily armed range rovers and two heavily modified MRAPs and headed toward the front lines to start their recon.
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Mokastana
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Mokastana » Mon Nov 23, 2015 1:57 pm

Somewhere North of Graznaya
Two weeks after the escape from Refugee camps

Sasha Tchernova held the assault rifle close to her chest, the false stomach replaced with a more practical practical backpack stolen from a burned out shop a few dozen kilometers back. Escaping the refugee camps had been a new experience for her, for unlike many of the former patients and conscripts they stumbled upon on their trek north, she had the street smarts to survive out here. From working the burned out streets in Tuktar, to fleeing to Gryazanaya, smuggling drugs into and around the camps, she picked up a lot more survival skills than she had previously thought. It amazed her how stupid everyone else seemed as she constantly gave out warnings or suggestions to the survivors. As those who listened survived, while those who didn't ended up injured, starving or dead, she slowly became the person everyone went to for advice. By day six, she realized that the group had somehow made her their leader.

She also realized that over time her small band of refugees had grown to nearly 30 people in that time. The Mokan weapons had been a gift, causing many to trade food and supplies for protection. Then the conscripts who abandoned their posts joined in, bringing more guns and fur coats, but they also brought military rations and clean water. One squad even allowed them to raid their supply convoy before abandoning it to Ordernite anti vehicle strikes.

Still, as the group grew, scavenging military goods and stores were only providing so much. It didn't take much for them to convince a small farm to give up their food stock to the roving band of armed survivors. They took cattle as well to carry the goods north. After another week's march Sasha found herself leading a small band of nearly 50 people fleeing the war.

Yet, most were sick and many had died already. Those not treated for Blood Fever like herself dropped quickly, some never picked up any symptoms, others had used up the medications stolen from various hospital tents. They left behind the sick when they had too, and treated those they could. It was not an easy trip, but death had missed her so far, perhaps it would stay that way.

The rattle of AK fire in the hills ahead woke her instincts up. Naturally lowering her stance to hide while raising the rifle. She was still a terrible shot, but the kind foreigner had showed her how to shoot one round at a time, and reload the weapon when she had to. Conscripts with Mosins and AKs ran forward towards the fire, a few soldiers on the ground being far less scary than the Ordernite war machine. Also, it was their brothers scouting ahead, so they felt the urge to fight to protect their own. She followed as the less armed civilians ducked on the ground.

The gunfire continued as she came to the top of the hill. Six men dressed in heavy furs, two were shot down and two were holding cows still, their saddle bags looked heavy from here. Around them four of her people lay dead in the snow. She fired a few shots in their direction and ducked into the snow, return fire peppered the ground around her.

"GRANADA!"

An Explosion near the six men threw snow and dirt in the air, a cow collapsed, landing on one. One of the men shouted in the foreigner's tongue, but her conscripts kept firing. The battle was over far quicker than it seemed.

Knives were unsheathed and the wounded cow smugglers were put to rest. She lost six good men, but at least what remained of the cows could serve as a good supper for them all. That was her biggest concern until the conscripts pulled out the saddle bags and cheered out loud.

She ran towards them, curious about those smiles.

“Madam Tchernova, we're rich!”

“Madam Tchernova! Check this out!”

They had intercepted a Cartel supply line. Two kilos of cocaine, and nearly 100,000 Rubles. The dead were clearly heading north, where the currency was still good.

“Spread half the money among the rest, we will all need it. The other half will stay with the drugs, in case we need to trade for more valuable supplies.”

She knew these conscripts would probably not be able to be trusted with this much money, but with it spread out she could contain the damage they might cause. Some would remain loyal to her, but all it would take is one to get greedy. She would have to be even more careful now.
Last edited by Mokastana on Mon Nov 23, 2015 1:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Factbook
Montana Inc

Quotes about Mokastana:
Trust the Mokans to be armed even when among their allies
-Zaheran

The fact that the Mokans hadn't faced the same fate was a testament to their preparedness, or perhaps paranoia
-United Gordonopia

Moka you are a land of pimps, prostitutes, drug lords, and corruption.
We love you for it.
-The Scandinvans

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Mokastana
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Founded: Feb 20, 2007
Democratic Socialists

EPILOGUE

Postby Mokastana » Mon Nov 23, 2015 10:41 pm

EPILOGUE

OOC: Sent a TG to UWO for a way to "wrap this thread up" since he will be out of commission for awhile. I imagine many of the sub-plots can still be resolved if people want, but this is mostly the 'official' resolution to the war. Changes may be made in the future if UWO and I, decide to pick this back up.
UWO, please let me know if I need to make corrections.


IC:

Kremlin
New Impen, Red Star Union
+3 Days siege of Gryazanaya


General Stukov sat in the Premier's chair. No it was not the Premier's chair, for the Mokan Generalissimo had wanted to it as a 'gift' for his mentor. Stukov had been proud to give it then. Now it was just another reminder how foreigners had ruined his country. He swirled the vodka glass letting the aroma fill his nostrils before taking another large swallow of the clear liquid. It was truly some of the best Vodka he had ever had. Perhaps, the Soviet System was just as unfair as all the others, but only perhaps. The Soviets would not massacre their own by the hundreds, if not thousands. The fascists were coming after all, and with them their racial purity and mass murder to create the perfect sub-species to the Ordernites. It amazed him how quickly many changed, wishing to be a dog for a foreign power rather that stand on their own, but the absence of his proper chair only reminded him how hypocritical the thought really was.

"General, Mr. Aguilar wishes to see you."

"Let him in."

Division Colonel Aguilar, Representative for the People's Unified Federal Army, the sods who promised Stukov a fully modernized army and weapons to beat back the invaders. Perhaps he was unwise to trust them.

"General Stukov, I have come to let you let you know that our adviser units have been ordered to evacuate the Capital and head to Gryazanaya. The PUF doesn't want their soldiers caught behind enemy lines. We have a way to evac units from the Capital, and with the riots going on in the suburbs and Blood Fever working its way into the city, it will only be a matter of time before the Capital is overrun. Join us, escape North where we can continue the fight."

"Continue... The Fight?... Continue... I have been fighting since the first Black Star rose above a Unionist building! You think a little Fever and siege will make be abandon my duty to my country! NEVER! I AM THE PREMIER OF THE RED STAR UNION! I WILL NOT ABANDON THE CAPITAL CITY TO REBELS!"

He threw the Vodka tumbler towards the Foreigner, missing by several meters.

"GO AWAY! RUN YOU COWARDS! I WILL STAY AND FIGHT AS IS MY DUTY! IT IS MY DUTY!"

Division Colonel Aguilar ducked quickly out the door and into the night. Outside, the gunshots and gentle waves of screams were muffled by the think bulletproof glass of his office. The Riots were getting closer, but he would hold into the city no matter the costs. It was his duty after all...


Elsewhere in the Red Star Union....
History of the end...


The Ordernites and their Black Star allies launched a deadly assault on the suburbs of Gryazanaya, pushing kilometers into the city, where fighting favored infantry and smaller vehicles. Door to door, street to street. Blades and Bayonets made the decisions in combat far more than either side would expect, but where one side had armor, the Unionists were lucky to have a great coat. It wasn't until day five of the siege did something glorious come over the horizon for the Unionists holding out. Seven Divisions from New Impen, including the two PMC Divisions and PUF advisers, charged north up the highway. At the same time, six armored divisions from the Reserves in the city barreled south, reopening the Highway between New Impen and Gryazanaya once more. Thousands of refugees made it north as the forces held it open for two days, allowing the reinforcements to make it into the city where they were badly needed. The Mokan Advisors began setting up camps in the North of the city, training conscripts and treating the wounded alike, allowing the Unionist and their PMC forces to hold the lines against the ever present assault of Ordernites.

However, just as quickly as a new hope shined, it was quickly extinguished once more. With the refugees came Varathon Blood Fever. Where ever the people went, it followed, and it thrived in the cramped quarters of cities and refugee camps. By the end of the first month of the siege, the Blood Fever had infected nearly 12% of the cities population, bringing nearly everything but key infrastructure to a halt. In the south, the virus followed the refugees who fled towards Black Star Lines. Many had realized which way the wind was blowing, and decided that life would be easier behind the Black lines than the Red. Information regarding how deadly the virus was in the southern areas controlled by Black Star is difficult to accurately portray, but word of mouth was that soldiers and loyalist got preferred treatment, while the poor and desolate were left to their own devices.

Despite the set backs and virus outbreak, the defenders held onto Gryazanaya for two more months. Every street, every house, ran red with the blood of Unionist and Ordernites. Buildings were demolished to deny their use to the enemy, bridges and highways were laced with explosives. Gryazanaya had burned for a long time before the fires were finally put out, and when they finally were, all that was left was the husk of what might have once been a prosperous city. The Mokans and their surviving allies retreated to Susol. The People's Unified Federation had been bringing in additional troops as the Ordernites laid siege to Gryazanaya, and so far nearly a 400,000 Federal Troops were now in country.

Yet their newest enemy, Varathon Blood Fever had arrived to meet them in Susol and in many other cities to the north. Doctor Salvador Allende, the leading PUF expert on VBF, lead the new Unionist efforts to combat the disease. Mokan troops sent to RSU for deployment were given a vaccine of the virus, but production of the vaccine was still highly regulated and thus could only produce so many doses. Stockpiles in the PUF took precedence over the locals in RSU. Even so, there was one city where no nation was attempting to combat the virus, and that was New Impen.

Blood Fever, starvation, mutiny, riots... by the time the Ordernites laid siege to the Capital most of their work was done for them. Many Army units on the outskirts, infected and without pay, quickly offered to join the Black Star Movement if it meant medical treatment and a hot meal. Loyalty was a bygone luxury, for this was no longer war, but mere survival. Not to say the Capital went down without a fight, despite taking the outer portions of the city with ease and turncoat divisions, the Elite forces and Patriots quickly turned the fight around. Letting the Ordernites get in close, they struck hard at first, biting back and taking portions of the city, even nearly encircling a few Black Star battalions before being beaten back. A few more blows were exchanged before the Ordernites managed to maintain their offensive progress.Even so, it took just shy of five weeks for Black Star to clear a path to the Kremlin, and despite their bombing runs, the building itself held out for two days. In the end, General Stukov was captured, mid radio broadcast, and executed for all to see on local television. The Elite forces continued their ambush and hit and run tactics around the capital for nearly a month after the fall of the Kremlin, but with nothing to sustain them but hatred of the Fascists, they too quickly perished.

If Gryazanaya was a mere husk of its former glory, then New Impen was a tombstone. Nearly five months of untreated Blood Fever, no food or clean water, and overpopulation had turned the city into hell. The dead were piled in the streets, the river was filled with burning barges that were used to dispose of the infected, when the city finally collapsed in on itself and public works failed, so did the clean up. Entire blocks were laid to waste, either by Unionist or Ordernite fire to burn out the Virus, or by simple back and forth of combat. of the Fourteen million souls who once lived here, and the twelve million who fled here, barely 500,000 remained alive in the city. Each lived, but only because of the sacrifices they were willing to make to continue on. Cannibalism and pillaging from others were the most common ways to live, but others had done far, far worse.

But the Capital was captured, and the Ordernites turned their attention North, to Susol, but intelligence was showing something they did not expect. Nearly half of the defending forces were from the People's Federal Army, as if the PUF was ready to join the war on the side of their Unionist allies. Both powers locked eyes, aimed their weapons and waited for the other to make a move.

It was the Federation that moved first, but not in the direction the world expected. It was a peace offering, a cease fire; for Varathon Blood Fever still raged in the North and South alike. If both sides continued to waste resources on the war, then it was possible that New Impen would only be the beginning of the extermination of Red Star Union. A temporary cease fire was agreed to, and both sides began to work on cleaning up their sides of the arbitrary line. With millions dead and millions more being trained to die for a war they no longer wanted, it took the threat of eradication to bring both sides to the table to discuss the possibility of letting the Unionists, Red or Black Star, to have a chance at a future.

Then, one one fateful November morning, the sun came up, and the guns remained silent. Peace had finally settled in Central Dienstad.
Last edited by Mokastana on Tue Nov 24, 2015 7:07 am, edited 4 times in total.
Factbook
Montana Inc

Quotes about Mokastana:
Trust the Mokans to be armed even when among their allies
-Zaheran

The fact that the Mokans hadn't faced the same fate was a testament to their preparedness, or perhaps paranoia
-United Gordonopia

Moka you are a land of pimps, prostitutes, drug lords, and corruption.
We love you for it.
-The Scandinvans

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