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The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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New Greston
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The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby New Greston » Thu Jun 18, 2009 2:50 pm

Monday, 10:30 AM
Capitol Hill, Easen
The Imperial Republic of Greston


As the blazing red sun rose over the knolls of Easen, signifying the first day of June, around Capitol Hill over a million people had gathered. Sweat gathered at the brow of the President Elect Llywelyn Wilton Madoc. Warm spring breezes whifted in between the fingers of his left hand, he right hand begining to stick to the hard cover of the bible that the Sumpreme Court Justice held. To Llywelyn's left stood his mother, his wife, the cabinet he had hand picked before the inauguration, and fifty other politicians with gaping smiles. Soft breezes whispered off of the water from the Westminister Strait softly, humming a beautiful song gently above Madoc as he walked up to the podium.

Sun gleamed off the seal on the podium and the man, who had just been inaugurated as the nine teenth President of the Imperial Republic. His teeth were perfectly aligned and shined upon the crowds cheering towards him. His breathe eased upon the microphone and he leaned upon the podium. The group on the dais and the audience alike silenced.

"Called upon to undertake the duties of the first executive office of our country, I avail myself of the presence of that portion of my fellow-citizens which is here assembled to express my grateful thanks for the favor with which they have been pleased to look toward me, to declare a sincere consciousness that the task is above my talents, and that I approach it with those anxious and awful presentiments which the greatness of the charge and the weakness of my powers so justly inspire. A great empire, spread over a wide and fruitful land, traversing all the seas with the rich productions of their industry, engaged in commerce with nations who feel power and forget right, advancing rapidly to destinies beyond the reach of mortal eye—when I contemplate these transcendent objects, and see the honor, the happiness, and the hopes of this beloved country committed to the issue, and the auspices of this day, I shrink from the contemplation, and humble myself before the magnitude of the undertaking."

With a pause he gazed upon the crowd, the works sinking in deep into the hearts of every man, woman, and civilian appluasding to their new president.

"Utterly, indeed, should I despair did not the presence of many whom I here see remind me that in the other high authorities provided by our Constitution I shall find resources of wisdom, of virtue, and of zeal on which to rely under all difficulties. To you, then, gentlemen, who are charged with the sovereign functions of legislation, and to those associated with you, I look with encouragement for that guidance and support which may enable us to steer with safety the vessel in which we are all embarked amidst the conflicting elements of a troubled world.

And a troubled world, truely is, what we find ourselves amidst today. The zeal and apathey for all human life presented by some of the nations that come upon this world is disgusting and will be the utter end to all humanity itself. Like the beasts and horrors withheld inside Pandora's box, it has been unleashed upon the world, and a new age of tyranny seemed to be be marching upon each and every one of our nations' doorsteps.

When it was first perceived, in early times, that no middle course for Greston
remained between unlimited submission to a foreign legislature and a total independence of its claims, men of reflection were less apprehensive of danger from the formidable power of fleets and armies they must determine to resist than from those contests and dissensions which would certainly arise concerning the forms of government to be instituted over the whole and over the parts of this extensive country. Relying, however, on the purity of their intentions, the justice of their cause, and the integrity and intelligence of the people, under an overruling providence which had so signally protected this country from the first, the representatives of this nation, then consisting of little more than half its present number, not only broke to pieces the chains which were forging and the rod of iron that was lifted up, but frankly cut asunder the ties which had bound them, and launched into an ocean of uncertainty.

Negligence of its regulations, inattention to its recommendations, if not disobedience to its authority, not only in individuals but in States, soon appeared with their melancholy consequences—universal languor, jealousies and rivalries of States, decline of navigation and commerce, discouragement of necessary manufactures, universal fall in the value of lands and their produce, contempt of public and private faith, loss of consideration and credit with foreign nations, and at length in discontents, animosities, combinations, partial conventions, and insurrection, threatening some great national calamity.

In this dangerous crisis the people of Greston were not abandoned by their usual good sense, presence of mind, resolution, or integrity. Measures were pursued to concert a plan to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty. The public disquisitions, discussions, and deliberations issued in the present happy Constitution of Government." - The opening words to to the Preamble of the Act of Union rung throught the entire city. In every house the speech radiated from the television sets, in every city, traffic stopped and the pedestrian sidewalks clogged up as they craned their necks to look at the giant screens attached to the side of buildings in awe as their president, easily, delivered the best speec in all of Greston's history.

"Relying, then, on the patronage of your good will, I advance with obedience to the work, ready to retire from it whenever you become sensible how much better choice it is in your power to make. And may that Infinite Power which rules the destinies of the universe lead our councils to what is best, and give them a favorable issue for your peace and prosperity."

The billions within Greston cheered and celebrated the start of a new era of a nation.

Tuesday, 11:12 AM
GMNS Walter Reeves, International Waters
The Imperial Republic of Greston


"So this is what standing on an Imperial Republic's ship is like," Llywelyn looked from his left to his right, with a smirk and halted in front of The Rt. Hon. Admiral Riley Nigel Cradock. The traditional, slightly insane, white bearded admiral towered over Madoc, who wasn't a short man, rather in comparison to Cradock. The old admiral stenched of the sea, it was uncountable how many ships he had sunk of lives he had taken through his orders, but his scraggley, gruff beard must have recorded it as it was as white as the glaciers in the polar ice caps.

"By god, I can't believe the voters elected a grouser like you! Admiral Cradock," he said we a stained yellow smile and rough hand shake.

Taking his hand back with a smirk, "Ah yes, President Madoc. I'd assume that's obvious though, what with all of this ruccus."

He was referencing to the forty man crew that had accompanied the day old president upon the ship that the dignitaries had met upon. Madoc had been ferried from Easen to the port town he had worked at in the place, Mont-du-Plame, to board a plane to travel to a distance half way from Magna Polis to board the destroyer GMNS Walter Reeves. And then there he stood, his radiant black suit and red tie a much formal contrast from the sweaty destroyer's crew. Cradock had taken the same trip, being ferried off the of Ares to be shipped and dropped upon the Walter Reeves.

Madoc led the admiral to a set of two chair placed upon the deck, each slightly titled to face the other. The two great men took their seats and once again exchanged pleasentries then posed for a picture to be plastered on the GNNN for the next week. Madoc summarized how the war in Mediterranica was continueing, when relishing upon the losses in Isthmatia Cradock sighed. Cradock then did the same for the battle plans in Magna Polis, some how forgetting to mention the targetting of civilians and the dropping of sarin gas. Madoc was questionable but the truth would come out to him at a later point.

"Well old chap, I have a certain mission for your liking then. The remaining Magna Polis Defense Fleet that has been harassing you?"

"Yes, sir, we have been slowly knocking them off coarse," said Cradock with a little white lie.

"Well, Mr. Cradock, have your remaining missiles be depleted upon them, wipe them out, including logistics. From there, pressure them to sign a peace treaty I will suppourt and end this blood strain on our economy. From there, I want your forces back in the Grestonian harbours, not to be deployed for quite some time." - With a smile, Madoc jumped from his seat and shook the aging Admiral's arm.

Wensday, 11:12 AM
The Tank, Easen
The Imperial Republic of Greston


It was the president's second visit into the secretive room where most of the government's plans had been collaborated. The private cabinet meeting chambers dubbed 'The Tank' held a silent witness to over a thousand meetings, quite a few of which entered the Imperial Republic into massive wars, other's sparking controversies, and the rest never being retold. It was Madoc's first time having a full blown meeting in there where most of the Cabinet presented their opinions and spoke, rather then Madoc being caught up to date of policies and current happenings.

And in that meeting the Ghothic Mediterranican War was mentioned. The entire war, a war that had strained the Grestonian economy and population for upwards to two years was briefed in an hour and a half. A map was laid out on the metal-mahogony hybrid of a table which depicted placements of troops on all sides.

"I want Zander and the rest of those great Ghothic Warlords to spend a week in Easen with me. Let them lay off the war tatics for a day and spend it traveling the city. Then we can have a sit down to possibly better Ghothic - Grestonian relations. This cannot be a field we must neglect in. In fact, Mr. Rigby, I want Dreadfire to even be invited to this conference. This will most definitely be an awarding meeting."

The Cabinet seemed to agree with Madoc's proposal. Secretly every one was anti-Ghothic but no one would speak about it. They felt allying with them was for the better. And with Madoc's apparent pro-Ghothic stance they thought twice of even mentioning it to him. It would be an up hill battle to change the Imperial Republic's relation's with Gholgoth, one that most of the government was for.

"By the way, I want to send out an invitation for the incoming 150,000 Freekish troops to rest in Greston for a bit, whilst the other 100,000 takes siege of the Greclacos."

It was a busy first three days.

*[OOC: When I say open I mean open in a sensible manner, no invasions (outside of those mentioned here), assanination attempts, or bull crap. At this point, it is up to his third day in office. Llywelyn's schedule is as follows, you can ask for a space accordingly:

1st Day - Monday June 1, 2013 - Innauguration
2nd Day - Tuesday June 2, 2013 - Meeting with Cradock and Magna Polis Peace Accords
3rd Day - Wensday June 3, 2013 - Ghothic Leadership Meeting]
The Imperial Republic of GrestonWestminister Defensive Bloc | Grestonian Commonwealth
Common Economic Protocals Treaty | Athican East Tyrrhenian Pact

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Automagfreek
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Automagfreek » Thu Jun 18, 2009 3:48 pm

The war across Mediterranica seemed to be coming to a conclusion, with all but Waldenburg still resisting Vorgothic forces, though few could predict for how much longer. With Zander's armada headed towards the waters near Waldenburg and Lord Dreadfire preparing more forces inside Automagfreek, there was little time for pomp and celebration. However the Freeks would not dare turn down an invitation from an ally, and thus Warchief Vidimir Breathstealer would be sent to Greston to act as a representative of the New Gothic Empire. His men would be treated to a well deserved rest and he himself would have the honor to consult with their new allies on a wide assortment of affairs, most notably being the future of both Greston and Gothic Mediterranica.

Having slept almost the entire time, Vidimir awoke to the screaching of landing gear on the hot airport tarmac. From there he would make the short trip towards Eason where he would formally greet the Grestonian dignitaries, though he himself wondered why he was chosen for such a task. Before he was scheduled to arrive, Vidimir sat comfortably in the car and began hammering away at the keyboard of his laptop, sending an email ahead of him to inform Mr. Madoc of his intentions.

Greetings, my new Gothic brothers.

I am Vidimir Breathstealer, Warchief of the New Gothic Empire of Automagfreek and commander of the Necrotile Legions under the supreme command of Lord Damien Dreadfire. You may ask why someone such as myself has been sent to treat with dignitaries such as yourself, for it would seem inappropriate to send anyone but the most famous Freekish diplomat to handle such a task. I can assure you that I am no stranger to history, for it was I who lead the Freekish attack against the Kraven Corporation of old, ultimately wiping them off the face of the Earth. I am looked upon most favorably by Lord Damien Dreadfire and am here with his full confidence.

I look forward to our conversations in the days to come, and make no mistake that Automagfreek and greater Vorgoth are fully committed to Greston and will fulfill your every request. I expect our talks to be most fruitful, and I am prepared to make several immediate offers on behalf of the Vorgothic Empire to the people of Greston for their support and brotherhood. I will discuss this in greater detail once I have arrived.

Yours very truely,


Warchief Vidimir Breathstealer

***

After several more hours of driving, Vidimir had finally arrived at his destination. Without a personal bodyguard to protect him, the lone Freek stepped out of the vehicle and immediately moved towards the diplomats who had long been awaiting his arrival. Wearing his finest ceremonial attire, the battle harded warrior stroke forward with confidence, his impressively detailed bronze breastplate, forearm and shinguards glistening in the sun. His royal blue cape fluttered ever so slightly behind him, dancing freely across the Panteran blade that swung from his hip. With a bow of his head and his right fist to his chest, he greeted his host warmly and expressed his great optimism of what was to come in the days ahead.


************
OOC: Arrival posts suck...
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New Greston
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby New Greston » Sat Jun 20, 2009 7:35 pm

Wensday, 10:47 PM
Davidson Conference Hall, Easen
The Imperial Republic of Greston


"Ah, Warchief Vidimir Breathstealer," Llywelyn had always had respect for the Freeks, he just had problems saying and pronouncing their names correctly. He always tended to let out a whisp of laughter as he would say their names, simply because of the pure parody feeling of it. The Warchief Breathstealer gave him the most trouble. Llywelyn cynched his tie and look from his right to left. They sat directly in front of each other, on either side of a long, mahagony Victorian style table. The bright white reflections of the Ponentian imported chandeliers gleamed off the marble walls and columns. There were heavy set doors at each end of the table and behind the two seats of the dignitaries.

Cynching his tie again, Llywelyn was quite fidgety for some reason, he began the extremely important conference, "Well, Mr. Breathstealer, (may I call you Vidimir?), first off I was told to think that Lord Azrael would be in attendence, as well as your person. Is he going to attend?"

Llywelyn didn't wish to sound rude, as he knew honour and respect were a large part of Freekish culture. However, so was that for Llywelyn, and he was slightly taken aback by the lack of presence from Azrael. He had planned the entire conference around his attendence. Llywelyn blinked once, then extracted the rolled up map of Mednordia, Mediterranica, and Northern Levantia, the three largest continents in Mediterranica and the current home to the main fighting. He then also retrieved the map of all of Mediterranica.

He first pointed at the map of the Grestonian Continent and questioned, "Well, Mr. Breathstealer, seeing as my predecessor did not divulge the exact location of all the Ghothic troops in these areas, can you mark them for future reference? Also," moving the full map of Mediterranica in between them, "I wish to know where, currently, Mr. Zander is heading and where his troops are camped. More over, the routes they will take and have already taken will be necessary. I am extremely sorry for the nature of my questions, but I cannot continue my suppourt for this war if both sides are not honest."

With a big exhale of breath, Llywelyn leaned back and waited for Vidimir to be the one speaking. But before he could, he leaned in and asked one final question, "I am also sorry Vidimir, if I may, but why do you think we went to war against this region for. And why did you?"
The Imperial Republic of GrestonWestminister Defensive Bloc | Grestonian Commonwealth
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Automagfreek
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Automagfreek » Sun Jun 21, 2009 8:17 pm

Vidimir was a bit taken back at the apparant lack of initial interest in his arrival, for the immediate query regarding Lord Azrael made him feel second class. He masked his annoyance and replied that the young Lord would be arriving shortly, for he would be flying from part unknown... for he was still in a self imposed exile from Automagfreek. He still commanded great respect amongst the Freekish people and all of the Warchiefs, it was only his father that he did not see eye to eye with.

Regarding the locations of Gothic forces within Mediterranica, Vidimir was happy to mark their last known positions on the map as well as their current headings. His own forces would soon be arriving at Mont-du-Plame in Greston for some R and R, while Zander's would soon be participating in the fight against Waldenburg. As you can see, this war is all but over. We're quite impressed at the ferocity of the Yallakian military, and at this point I'm honestly wondering if there will be anything left for my men to destroy after we depart. While some may say that it's a bit premature to be talking about the post-war era, I, as well as my counterparts, think that now is the perfect time. Once Waldenburg has been pacified then Mediterranica shall finally know peace, which to answer your question, is why we are here.

Vidimir stepped back from the table and placed his arms behind his back, walking about the room casually as he spoke. Gholgoth saw a region that was crying out for true freedom, the kind that I'm afraid no longer exists outside of the Gothic sphere. Mediterranica shall no longer suffer the tyranny of a select few that wish to reap all of the benefits while everyone else is denied their righful glory, and this is why we have set this region free. I know I'm starting to sound like I'm spouting talking points, but Vorgoth really is true freedom. We are perhaps the only band of nations that does not discriminate any nation or people based on their political systems, religion, or way of life. We're the last of our kind, sad to say it.

He glanced about the room briefly, his gaze growing more distant as his mind began to wander. Those of us in Vorgoth yearn for the day when all mankind is united in harmony, and warrior peoples such as ourselves are no longer of use. We may be heavy handed in our methods yes, but AMF does this to prove to the world that we will not suffer the likes of anyone who attempts to destroy the Gothic way of life. Lord Dreadfire swore a blood oath to defend every single Goth until the bitter end, which is why so many across the world see Vorgoth as nothing more but his puppet. But I can assure you that that is not the case, for with the great prestige of being one of Vorgoth's chief defenders comes a great burden, for our people rarely see peace. We're willing to defend each and every one of you in Gothic Mediterranica until our strength is exhausted, and all we ask in return is that you stand alongside us through thick and thin.

We really are the best allies you will ever have, and those that were once bitter foes of Gholgoth are now some of its most valiant defenders. We really are glad to welcome Greston and everyone else in Mediterranica into our ranks, and we hope you feel the same way.


He was interrupted by the screech of a private jet overhead, and the distinct sound of the Freekish Industries engines left little doubt as to who it could be...
Founded on March 24th, 2003
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New Greston
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby New Greston » Thu Jun 25, 2009 12:46 pm



Wensday, 11:25 PM
Davidson Conference Hall, Easen
The Imperial Republic of Greston


Llywelyn laughed staunchly. He knew he was disrespecting the Freek, Vidimir Breathstealer, but he had to laugh. He shook his head greviously, the Freekish Warlord sat in his chair, gripping the armchair, staring at the Grestonian who couldn't help from laughing.

In between erratic breathing and chuckling Llywelyn was able to say one thing, "Vidimir, sir, I don't think I can believe that." And with that the man was still, no longer laughing, and his erratic breathing was naught but a cold exhale of the weight of his Republic's problems.

Llywelyn stood from his chair and looked down upon Vidimir, their eyes locking. From the foor doors revolving around the table, one at each center point of the circular meeting hall, Imperial Infantrymen rushed in upon the room, their guns gleaming from the dimly lit Ponentian chandeliers. They moved in unision, filing into a circular formation around the table, guns trained on the Freekish Warlord.

Vidimir didn't move his gaze, didn't break a sweat, the man was a Freek, "Mr. Breathstealer, I can no longer stand being on the Ghothic side of the spectrum, be filed as a backstabber, as one who opened up their country to the horrors of Gholgoth. It is a new day in Mediterranica, a new light, a new era! Move quickly or get out of the way, Mediterranica is no longer the staging ground for every over zealous Empire with an army to start colonizing. I am an elected man, you see, and what my people, the people of Greston, want I deliver. And I people no longer want to sit idly by as the government destroys the militaries and former boundries of this region. Or to allow your people to camp in towns, eat our food, drink our wine, use our ammunition and our fuel for your unjust cause of conquering this region.

Therefore, sir, you find your self speaking with me today, with twenty guns trained upon your person. We are many nations, in the Mediterranica, many different people, many different governments, many different policies and idealologies. However, when we can see the true light of a person, of his motives, we can work together, as I have. Your goals were never in a true light, the causus belli that would subject dozens of nations and billions of people to war and death was for nothing more of Imperial Standards, to throw you bloodly weight around. However, at first my predecessor, Mr. Striker, did fall for the false talk of liberation and the false hope of redemption and great pay. However, I am not as faltering as my predecessor, when I hear word of money and land, I do not jump the gun, deploy multiple brigades and armies! I am sensible, and my sensibility is what lead me to this decision. Per Presidential Order #678 yourself, Lord Azrael, Zander, and 100,000 Goths camped in Mont-du-Plame are under warrant for arrest. You have dealt the wrong cards, Mr. Breathstealer, now your nation finds its best generals in Grestonian prison cells."

The two nearest soldiers lowered their rifles and slowly approached Breathstealer, grabbing him by his elbows and lifting him from his chair. A third soldier frisked him, pulling the scabbard off his waist and any other weapons they could find. As the Warlord was frisked, another team of Infantrymen flowed out of the main entrance to the Meeting Hall, a grand, heavy set door opened and a team of soldiers descended out of it upon the marble steps to the street, forming a V formation around Lord Azrael, son of Dreadfire, as he ascended the steps. Captain Harry Willisborough snapped out orders and flew his hand around, ordering his team to surround Azrael. They did so swiftly and approached him, doing the same as they did to Vidimir to the son of the Dreadfire.

Wensday, 11:31 PM
Ghothic Station "Icestone", Mont-du-Plame
The Imperial Republic of Greston


The station housing over 150,000 Freekish soldiers was almost entirely quiet, the only lights on were the large alert lights in the guard towers, covering the expanse of the grassy knolls and plains on the eastern side of the fort. The medium sized fort was just two miles outside of the large coastal city, Mont-du-Plame, the same coastal city which was the staging point for the first defense in 2010 and the Assualt on Solenial in February 2013. The city, a thriving military, and mercantile city sprung with life, but the bright lights and loud noises could not be heard from the quiet, secure Ghothic Campsite. The Ghoths could almost entirely rest, with only partols of two up, being as the Imperial Infantry provided security. At the start of the war, Striker opened up the camp saying, "Its the place Ghothic troops, tired from their long days of liberating this region, can get some rest and relaxtion, not needing to even protect their own base as Brigades and Legions of Grestonian soldiers will do that for them."

There were the guard towers connected to the fort then one hundred feet out, a second square of guard towers, teeming with Grestonian soldiers. In one certain guard tower, Guard Tower #1 "Black Arrow", Major Sébastien Roy Farrell, stood on alert, his ear piece in and his M40A3 in his hands. His ear piece was connected directly to the Missions Comm. Station in Mont-du-Plame, which had commucations going with the President in Easen. Then the message came through.

"Operation Dazed Chapman is a go, Initialization Stage #1 has already began, begin advance on Ghothic Station "Icestone"."

The Major nodded his head in compliance and motioned to his sister guard station, Guard Station #2 "Zastava". Major Farrell raised his M40A3 and trained it on the less alert Freekish sentry, conversing with his partner. Major Sébastien Roy Farrell motioned with his hands who his partner, Captain Eustachius Barnabás, should fire at. They had their silencors on, sacrificing the length of the shot but they were in close enough distance to hit, even with it on. They were steady, breathing slowly waiting for the brushing wind to pass by. Seconds later and the moment was perfect. They took their shots.

The two Freeks fell in the other guard tower, all around the perimeter, the sniper teams cleared the Freekish Guard towers and sentrys. After they fell, Upwards to 300,000 infantry men flooded the now clear one hundred feet zone. In teams of 20 men they took up their position staying in the shadow, it took half an hour for 100,000 to make it over. The other 200,000 stayed back, as well as the helicopters airlifting in teams and a division of MT-1 Jaguar Main Battle Tanks. Major Sébastien Roy Farrell, now on the ground, motioned to his partner still in the tower, Captain Eustachius Barnabás, who then motioned to Captain Nathanial Maitland in Guard Tower #2 "Zastava", the Captain manning his Gepárd M1 anti-material rifle and his partern, Lieutenant Timothy Faolán, manning a L7A1 FN MAG GPMG, attached to the Guard Tower.

Then the moment they had been waiting for was cleared. They popped multiple flash bangs and smoke grenades into the first floor, smashing the windows with the butt of their gun or the grenades themselves. After the grenades started going offer, the first grouping of infantry rolled into the building, landing in the armory, command center, or kitchen. A team that landed in the armory took the room as a base of command, the armory was a key objective because as long as the Freeks didn't get to it, they couldn't fight. However, there were three more armories, two on the living spaces sector, and a third on the third floor.

As the grenades went off the helicopters lifted off, teams of thirteen rapelled from the helicopter and flew in threw the windows. Rolling in flash bangs and smoke grenades under the bunks, the already dazed soldiers who had been sleeping were being tackled or had multiple guns trained on them. Teams landing on the roof flooded the lower levels, half securing the third floor the other half flooding the living sector.

The Grestonian sentries, specifically Captain Nathanial Maitland and Lieutenant Timothy Faolán, trained their guns on the second floor, waiting for the Freeks to get out of line. Lieutenant Timothy Faolán held his L7A1 GPMG tightly, then as the Freeks got out of their bunks of his side of the building, he opened fire; tearing bunks apart as well as people, blood and cotton strewn the floor.

Captain Maitland followed certain Freeks then opened fire when they would swing their hands near Grestonian troops, splitting their head in half. The goal of the raid was to arrest the Freeks, not to kill them, and the soldiers on the ground tried to keep it that way, but they were not against bashing a Freek in the face or head with the butt of their rifle before applying hand cuffs to their wrists.

Wensday, 11:59 PM
Presidential Palace, Easen
The Imperial Republic of Greston


Llywelyn sat in the dark of his room, dim light from the ominous moon streaked in through the cracked venetian blinds. One hand was stradling his hair, the other pressing a phone to his ear. The phone rang twice before answering. In a cracked, tired, voice a female picked up the phone, "Hello?"

Llwelyn waited, holding the phone, contemplating what he was going to say. What had happened for that matter. The girl spoke once more, slightly aggitated, "Hello?" The third time she cracked her voice and threatened to hang up Llywelyn spoke, "Hello? Marry? It's Llywelyn."

Her voice seemed to light up slightly, she was more interested and knew that she wasn't speaking to a prankster who had gotten the number of the Sumguaian Empress. Llwelyn sat there, and scratched his head, "Well Mary, I heard of your activism against the Ghoths and your fleet outside of Waldenburg."

"Mr. Madoc do you know what time it is?"

"Yes, Mary, I am well aware of the lateness of the hour, but I have grave news. Lord Azrael and Vidimir Breathstealer are in Grestonian custody, plus upwards to 150,000 more Freekish soldiers will be streaming in as well. It's a new day in Mediterranica, Ms. Basset, it's a new day in the world. Soon our fleets can battle those of the Ghoths in the Holder Rand Passage. I have the location of all of their fleets and much more information I can extract."

Laughing a bit, "Mr. Madoc, Llywelyn, you are an amazing man. It took you long enough to turn around." With that she went back to sleep and Llywelyn hung up.
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Automagfreek » Thu Jun 25, 2009 4:38 pm

OOC: After talking with Greston, I'm starting my post at the moment of his advance, since I consider most of his attack to be a godmod. Sentinels aren't simply going to *let* themselves be taken.

********

The night was as long and boring as all the previous nights Vidimir's Sentinels had spent in Greston, but little did they know that treachery was afoot. Sentries patrolled the outskirts of the large base camp as infrared perimeter sensors kept a watchful eye during the darkness. Armored cars drove lazily around the various asphalt roads with turret gunners gliding their machine guns side to side as they scanned for irregularities. Logistics personnel monitored computer screens that displayed live feed from several patrolling UAV's, as well as the perimeter defenses and anti-air systems that were in place to protect the Sentinels while they camped. With war still raging across Mediterranica, security was high on the land, as well as on the sea and in the air. Vidimir's naval contingent was still out to sea but well within range of the coast, and Stratosfighter II warplanes prowled the skies in search of foes as AWACS and fleet based defense systems prepared for an encounter, however unlikely given the success of the Mediterranica war thus far. Though the Sentinels were inside what they thought was friendly territory, they remained on guard for good reason.

It was not until the first few Sentinel sentries were shot and the perimeter advanced upon that those charged with protecting the sleeping warriors took notice. Inside the command and control room, the mood was light as the Sentinels took to telling war stories and playing cards to pass the hours away. The mood was soon soured as the beeping from a nearby computer caught their attention, for the perimeter sensors had been tripped as the Grestonian soldiers advanced upon the camp. Cries of "holy shit!" rang out as one Sentinel lunged from his seat and mashed down on a red button, which triggered a siren that blared throughout the entire camp. 150,000 Sentinels were roused from their sleep in a frantic state of awareness, grabbing their rifles that were propped up next to the beds and swarming out from their barracks. Being ambushed was certainly nothing new to the Sentinels, but in the sheer chaos of the moment few knew what was going on.

It wasn't until the first few barracks along the perimeter breach were ravaged by enemy gunfire that the Sentinels began to engage with rifes and grenades, and as command and control personnel watched from overhead the infantry officers finally got a sense of what was happening to them. It was more than obvious that the Grestonians had betrayed them, though they were not concerned with why, they were fighting for their very existance. Word was sent very quickly to Admiral Adrian Bradley, an experienced Freekish officer, that there was fighting on the ground and support was being requested. A live audio feed was broadcast inside the bridge for all to hear, and the frantic screams of a Sentinel officer could barely be heard over the intense gunfire. Devoured Elysium! I say again, Devoured Elysium! The room grew silent and motionless for but a second before the officer's cry came over the radio again. Do it fast, hammer down the fuckin' nails! Admiral Bradley slammed his hands down on the console in front of him in anger before barking out orders of his own. 'Devoured Elysium' was only executed when a ground force was in imminent danger of being overrun and destroyed, and it was always sobering to have to carry out such an order.

Gets the guns loaded and starting firing immediately, and take us further out to sea NOW! Scramble more fighters, tell the ones we already have in the air to get their asses in gear. I want their comms taken out and an up to date sitrep...and get Lord Dreadfire on the horn...

As the ships began heading away from the Grestonian coast, fighters were frantically scrambledin order to defeat whatever air power their foes brought to bear on the Sentinels, as well as to engage ground targets and buy their men some time. Gunnery crews on board every ship upon hearing the order "Devoured Elysium" loaded the ominous black shells into their breaches and trained their weapons towards the coordinates which were now coming in thanks to UAV surveillance, though crews were attempting to get as many satellites on the job as possible. The thermal signatures of hundreds of thousands of hostile men stood out across the wide view of the battlefield from above, and analysis showed that a large reserve force was preparing to engage should their probing element be wiped out. From the 16" mounts of the larger supporting vessels to the 5" guns of the destroyers, all unleashed their ordnance across the entire grid and reloaded for another salvo. Word was radioed through all friendly comms channels; Devoured Elysium acknowledged. Prepare for arrival. And with that, a second and much higher pitched siren blared throughout the camp, signaling and a friendly chemical attack was enroute.

Sentinels immediately donned their NBC gear as they continued to throw massive amounts of firepower towards the enemy. Command and control knew that they had to fan out and avoid being boxed inside the camp, so squads of Sentinels began to spread themselves wide on both flanks in an attempt to either envelop their enemy or force a retreat. Tanks and self propelled artillery that had been brought ashore for repairs and re-arming following the siege of the Grecalos Islands were fired up and sent into the fray, while IFV's and armored cars began shifting towards the flanks with additional Sentinels. As bodies began to pile up, the familiar howl of naval rounds soaring overhead brought a cheer to the embattled soldiers, who were now concentrating the bulk of their light mortar and artillery fire on the center of the enemy force in order to break up their ranks. The VX shells that had been fired were largely intended for the enemy reserve force as well as the men towards the center and rear of the hostile probing element, and they knew not what would soon hit them.

While this was all happening, crews on board the Freekish ships began coordinating their first EW attack, which was designed to block out enemy communications and data sharing. The Freeks would refrain from shooting down satellites if they could help it to avoid increasing the already absurd amount of space debris, and for now they were satisfied with jamming all the signals they could acquire that were not friendly in nature. AWACS and OTH radar continued to scan the skies but were now focused on what was coming from inland, and air assets were directed accordingly. The first strafing runs by the airborne 'Sea Scorpions' was en route, though it was intentionally delayed for several minutes to allow the chemical weapons to wreak havok on the unsuspecting enemy force.

******

Freekish High Command was notified of the situation as soon as possible, and personnel back in Automagfreek watched in horror as the Sentinels fought furiously for their very lives. They had taken several hundred casualties (both KIA and WIA) at the outset of the attack as they scrambled to gather their weapons and gear and defend themselves, but as the gunfire continued with ever increasing intensity, the Sentinels that were stationed the furthest away from the ambush site began to break out, fanning out from the center of their ranks in both directions so as to form a giant wedge. A front line of sorts had been established behind buildings, demolished checkpoints, and the remains of vehicles and stacked bodies, and a reserve force made up of the men at the center of the camp was established. Ammo was being funneled in great number from the various dumps that been positioned throughout, and though suffering an initial blow the Sentinels had maintained their composure surprisingly well. These were Vidimir's men, battle hardened soldiers who had been in almost this exact same situation once before when the Kraven Corporation betrayed Automagfreek so many years ago.

Admiral Bradley was not yet able to gauge the effectiveness of the ongoing chemical bombardment, but as his fleet continued to shift into battle formations he watched intently as the dire situation onfolded before his eyes. Sentinel Marines that were still stationed on board their ships were scrambling to their amphibious IFV's and landing craft in order to bolster the numbers of their brethren. FAF-1 'Vassago' attack helicopters were sent forth from several of the amphibious assault ships in order to provide close fire support against hostile infantry and whatever armored vehicles were present. It was the best the Admiral could do considering the circumstances, and he vowed to make Greston pay dearly for their treachery and for the Sentinel blood they had spilled. And then it hit him lack a ton of bricks; Vidimir and Azrael had been visiting with the Grestonian leaders, and suddenly he became sick to his stomach.

Vidimir on the other hand was quite amused, chuckling as he was taken into custody. Perhaps reading some history would have served you well Llywelyn, for you should know what happens to those who betray the trust of AMF. My words were true, for I am no liar... but what you have now brought upon yourself and your people will be wrath most terrible. Do the names 'Fascist White States' and 'British Londinium' mean anything to you, because history appears to be repeating but a third time. He looked towards the men who had drawn their weapons upon him, casting a cold gaze into each one of their eyes. Think long and hard about what you have just done, and may the Gods have mercy upon you....because Lord Dreadfire will not.

Damien on the other hand was roused from his slumber to the news that Warchief Vidimir and his son Azrael were now in Grestonian custody, and that the nation had betrayed Vorgoth. His eyes flared with white hot intensity, causing the surrounding air to crackle with an intense and unholy energy. High Command was already working on the situation and thus would not require Damien's direct orders, for his efforts would need to be focused on getting his Warchief and his son back. An audio message was hastily transmitted to Greston that bore the voice of Dreadfire himself.

I am most unamused at such foolish betrayal, but I will be brief. If but a hair on the heads on Vidimir Breathstealer or my son Azrael are harmed, all of Gholgoth shall rain nuclear fire down upon Greston. In fact, if they are not put on a plane and sent safely back to Automagfreek in one hour, we will fire nuclear weapons at a major Grestonian city, and one more shall be cleansed by atomic fire every hour until they are released from your custody. Do not test me.

And with that, Dreadfire grabbed his weapon and the combat gear he kept in a wooden chest inside his personal quarters and boarded a chopper headed out to sea to rally with Task Force Dreadfire, the largest and most powerful naval element in AMF that had been staging at sea for days to serve as reinforcements for the fight against Waldenburg. For their treachery, Greston would be facing the wrath of Supreme Warlord Damien Dreadfire, and would bear witness to his anger firsthand.
Last edited by Automagfreek on Thu Jun 25, 2009 4:57 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Crimmond
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Crimmond » Thu Jun 25, 2009 5:35 pm

Empress Ursala Mobuto strode through the corridors of the Imperial Palace towards the front courtyard, where a helicopter waited. She was preparing to journey to Automagfreek... she had business to attend to with Damien Dreadfire, concerning her nation's re-entry to Gholgoth. She paused when a Marine ran toward her, dataslate in hand. "Report."

"Highness, we have just received word..." He displays a buildup of Freek forces.

"Dreadfire isn't going to be in Gholgoth... He's going into battle. Walk with me, Sergeant." The two headed off to the helicopter. "You will inform the Fourth Fleet to move into position for the Sixth and Eighth fleets to form up with them. I am taking command of the Empire personally. The Freeks are going to war... and the Crimm Imperial Navy is as well."

===

CSS Empire

The ship was originally the American Iowa class battleship USS New Jersey, but was rechristened the CSS Empire upon joining the Crimm Imperial Navy. It had served in three World Wars (the Second, Third and Fifth) and dozens of other conflicts. It had taken horrendous damage in the war with Vetalia, but the Empire of Crimmond was not about to allow it's flagship to be scrapped. The ship was in top condition again and ready for combat as soon as the Empress came aboard.

"Cast off. As soon as we've cleared the harbor, I want flank speed. We have an armada to lead." It would be thirty minutes before they approached the armada, which was at only two-thirds strength. They would get the Eighth fleet on the way. There was no chance that the armada would be able to catch the Freeks if they went straight into combat... but they would be a nasty surprise for their enemies, when they did arrive. Should the Freeks hold off on direct combat, they could be as little as a half-hour behind.

===

A private video message would arrive for Damien on his flagship. It showed Ursala back in a naval uniform, though it lacked rank insignia, standing on the bridge of a ship.

Lord Dreadfire,

Part of me regrets that we cannot meet in person at this time to discuss Crimmond's future in Gholgoth. The rest of me is glad to be in command of a battleship again. Three fleets are moving to join you... This is how it should have been all along. Brothers and Sisters in arms, fighting for glory and pride. Fighting for Gholgoth. In the coming days, Crimmond will forge a new bond with the Freeks and with Gholgoth.

In the words of a great Crimm leader, the first in fact... 'To have mercy on an enemy is to always have an enemy. Let not one survive.' I know I won't."


The message shifts to a view from a helicopter, which had filmed the fleet for the historical record. It showed the heavily modified Iowa-class battleship at the center of a loose grouping of cruisers and frigates, with the megacarrier CSS Mammoth on the horizon, partially obscured by haze. One wondered about her logic of taking the Empire's floating blunder into combat. The pykecrete hulled ship was the white elephant of the fleet... maybe she planned on using it to soak up damage, as it was the largest ship in the fleet.

Image
Empress Ursala Mobuto

===

The fleets themselves were standard for Crimmond. All were based around carriers, though the Mammoth was being superseded by the Empire in it's fleet. Battlecruisers and heavy cruisers made up the heavy firepower, but the bulk of the surface ships were frigates and destroyers. Strangely, there were no assault ships. The Empire wasn't committing troops to any landings, apparently. Under the surface, however, there were over two hundred submarines sliding through the depths, keeping up with the surface fleet with ease.

On board one such submarine (the CSS Democracy's Bane) sat Captain Koro Mobuto, brother to the Empress.
Last edited by Crimmond on Thu Jun 25, 2009 5:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Yallak
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Yallak » Thu Jun 25, 2009 6:35 pm

Post removed
wrong thread
sorry
Last edited by Yallak on Thu Jun 25, 2009 8:34 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Pantera
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Pantera » Thu Jun 25, 2009 8:16 pm

The Lord Reaver has condemned vehemently the actions taken against Vidimir, Azrael, and Sentinel forces in New Greston. Deriding them as the actions of cowards, too feeble and afraid to fight as proper men and warriors should and instead attacking men at the negotiation table. Following these heated condemnations, the Evenstar has also opened the ranks of the Panteran armed forces, granting paid leave to any Reaver who wished to venture abroad to fight alongside their Gholgothan brothers.

In addition, a number of battlegroups have been recalled from service abroad to the Gholgothan home to assume patrol and homeguard duties in those allied nations that so request it, thus freeing more men and material from those nations for actively pushing the front. The Panteran armories and factories have been opened to Gholgothan combatants, ensuring a fresh source of supply for prosecuting this war that the Lord Reaver has, thus far, strained to keep Pantera and her rough, battle-hardened forces out of.

Various Gholgothan news sources have claimed that this flurry of activity is merely a precursor to a larger Panteran mobilization and full-scale entry into the conflict, though aides and a number of confidants of the Lord Reaver have denied these claims. Such denials have not prevented the War parties in Toke from sounding the drums and calling for unrestricted entry into the conflict, an action which most of the Panteran populace, from initial polls, seems to support.

Others, perhaps more sensibly, have decried such sentiments, instead urging the Lord Reaver publicly to instead act as the arsenal of Gholgoth by supplying and arming the allied armies while keeping Reaver forces, still recovering from a slight economic downturn, out of the general conflict.

Despite speculation and bombast, few things are certain thus far of Panteran involvement in this war. What is certain is that, by taking over homeguard activities, Reaver forces have freed allied men and material for direct combat, Panteran arms and supply will be rushing to the front, and volunteer brigades of battle-eager Reavers will soon be making appearances under allied commanders.

The Lord Reaver's initial declaration about giving leave to Reavers for foreign service was followed by a violent diatribe aimed at the Mediterranican leadership. An excerpt:

It saddens me that a nation once welcomed as equals has seen fit to turn to treachery in order to further their ambitions. Rather than meet Azrael, my friend, with steel in hand, they have instead descended to the level of petty kidnappers and brigands. To sieze an official representative of a nation at the negotiation table is nothing less than despicable and cowardly, and very near criminal. It will not be tolerated. Even now volunteers from our Reaver forces are seeking to enlist beneath the allied banners. So, let our friends and brothers at the front take heart. Pantera has not forgotten you. Nor will you fight alone. The Pact is firm and the bonds it represents remain as hard as Crim steel. The men of Pantera come to stiffen your lines and to take the fight forward. Let your hearts harden to what lies ahead and let the enemy fear the blood and fire that is to come.
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Tremble, for He brings the darkness as dusk never could...

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The Fleet sails from Nusquam Esse

Postby Drakonian Imperium » Thu Jun 25, 2009 8:18 pm

Emirate News Network

It is a bright, clear day, light shining down upon a cityscape, skyscrapers reaching into the blue. Below, the crystal clear waters of the harbor, a destroyer drifts along the open channel and off camera.

"The Fleet sails! Residents of Alexandria and the Imperium's other fleet cities were surprised this morning to watch as warship after warship left the harbor and took to the seas.

"Among the tally, confirmed by independent witnesses, are three fleet carriers, two battleships, numerous support vessels and smaller warships, including at least two light carriers and three amphibious assault carriers. These ships have not just sailed from here in Alexandria where the Imperial Drakonian Navy is headquartered, but also its major port facilities around the country, including Portland, Veii, and Port-of-Spain.

"The Navy confirmed the sailing in a press brief released later this morning, stating that the fleet would be deploying to the Pacific, as part of an exercise, and not releasing any further information as to the nature or the purpose of this unprecedented deployment. What the Navy is saying is the operation is under the command of Admiral Ares Kraken.

"As this is largest navy deployment since the rebellion in Fyreheart some four years ago, which was also commanded by the Admiral, many fear that the Imperium is about to involve itself in another major conflict. Especially, as Admiral Kraken’s last command, a combined group of United Emirates and allied fleets resulted in a major diplomatic incident when it assaulted the Ardan blockade of Fyreheart. The Dread Lady Nathicana was required to negotiate between the envoys of Morgoth and representatives of Lavenrunz.

"According to the Navy, much of the smaller vessels will transition to the Pacific via the Panama Canal, while major elements of fleet will use the summer weather to sail through the Northwest Passage. The fleet is expected to rendezvous near Gholgoth Minor in just over a week.

"When asked whether the deployment was connected to War in Meditterranica, government officials simply stated that the Imperium does not condone or condemn the war, but reserves the right to act to protect the lives of civilians and end the violence, if such becomes necessary. Further comment was declined.

"We will continue to bring you updates to this story as it develops. This is Andre Duvall, reporting from Alexandria Harbor for the Emirate News Network." The ENN Logo appears on the screen and a loud booming voice is heard saying, "This has been an ENN Special News Bulletin."

OOC: Further information about my fleet is available upon request; more details will be made clear as the fleet sails toward its destination.

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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Vetalia » Thu Jun 25, 2009 9:49 pm

OOC: The date on this is tentative. The general idea is that it happens after we learn about Greston making a move.

Thursday, 12:00 am, Praetorium, Vetalia City

"By order of the Field Marshal of the Army of Vetalia and acting in the name of the Vetalian people and its Constitution, you are hereby sentenced to death for treason..."

A single shot, and the former Praetor crumpled to the floor of the Praetorium, a small pool of blood spreading across the delicate mosaic floor of his former office. On his desk were the incriminating documents, one announcing the country's support for the Grestonian coup against Vorgoth and a series of detailed plans for the nation's commitment to the two countries' mutual defence. It was clear that he had been planning such a betrayal for some time, although the motives for such a deadly move were now quite unknowable, if the smell of burning flesh in the palace gardens was any indication.

As of 12:01 am, all of the names on those documents had been dealt with, and several thousand more not on them were either burning on their own pyres or were held in custody in the prison beneath the Ministry of Justice. All in all, around a thousand top government officials had been purged, although it was hardly out of the ordinary these days to see a few disappear here and there...by the time people grew wary, the new regime would be quite solidly in power and little more would need to be done. The Vice Praetor, a party to the coup due more to his own ambitions than any loyalty either way but nonetheless quickly assumed power and prepared a press briefing describing the tragic death of his superior from undetermined medical causes. The Proconsul of Health quickly had several loyalists fill out the necessary forms and produce the falsified documents describing his cause of death as a heart attack while others contacted the Praetor's immediate family to bring them to the palace. He personally received a satisfying accident report a half hour that had hopefully written off most of them in an unspecified and severe collision.

By 1:04 am, the Ministry of Defense had issued its statement that they had narrowly averted a Grestonian-backed coup against the Vetalian government and were immediately dispatching personnel to secure the key government facilities and to ensure the safety of those potentially at risk. Using the Emergency Powers Clause installed by the NDPV several months before, the new Praetor assumed control over the government immediately and ordered the full mobilization of the country's armed forces for any necessary actions against Greston. The redeployment of offensive forces along the border in sufficient strength for a full assault would take additional time, but the country did not hesitate to draft an ultimatum. The message was sent immediately to the Grestonian Embassy in Vetalia as well as directly to the nation's government with all possible urgency.

Based upon Grestonian actions and the risk of serious negative consequences for our country and by extension the whole of Mediterranica, this country cannot in good conscience nor in good self-interest remain neutral.

We demand the complete cessation of hostilities, the full release of all Vorgothic hostages, and the immediate capitulation of the Grestonian government in exchange for peaceful negotiations between the powers involved. This government cannot guarantee that Gholgoth will be willing to negotiate, but should Greston recognize our demands and capitulate, we will exercise our role within Vorgoth to ensure that the final resolution to this conflict does not negatively damage our interests or those of Gholgoth, who will no doubt prefer a stable, prosperous Mediterranican community to one devastated by a severe and likely irreparable war.

If the Grestonian government does not act responsibly, we will have little choice but to pursue offensive action to meet our commitments to Vorgoth and the need for the safe, stable Mediterranica vital to our interests. We hope you consider our proposal in light of our long relationship and implore you to remember the fate of British Londinium when considering whether to continue this folly.


The message itself was left unsigned, customary for the Vetalian government during political transitions. It was best to keep up appearances when coups were involved...
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Oseato
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Oseato » Thu Jun 25, 2009 10:00 pm

(OOC: I cleared this with Greston)

Outside the Senate Building
Oseato City, The Federation of Oseato


The crowd was massive, from all directions the people came, to see and hear President Hamilton. A podium was placed on the steps and roped off. Lights had been brought in for the night rally and shone brightly down upon the assembled people of Oseato City. The crowd was questioning what was going on, as nothing like this had been done before the President generally spoke from his office or the Senate floor. In any event, several television crews had set up positions to view the podium. A company of Black Guards in riot gear stood between the crowd and the podium, while they didn't think it was necessary, no one would take any chances.

Hamilton appeared from the entrance to the senate and slowly walked down the steps to the podium. He was dressed in his finest Field Marshall's uniform, as had Field Marshall Morrell, Defense Minister, and Field Marshall Novack, Marshall of the Armies. They stood offset, behind the President and waited for the speech to commence. The crowd drew silent as Hamilton stood behind the podium and adjusted the microphone to just the right position.

"Good Evening, Oseatons. I come before you tonight to speak of a future, a future devoid of tyranny and oppression, free of foreign aggressors and mindless imperialism. For too long have we stood by and allowed our fellow nations of Mediterranica, our brothers, to come under the iron heel of Gholgothic power. For too long have we watched as war raged to our south in Waldenburg. No longer will we tolerate their presence in our region, no longer tolerate the senseless destruction of our fellow nations.

"'Rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come back to life. He was lost and has been found.' The words resonant with me, for the Imperial Republic of Greston, once lost to the Vorgothic Pact, has come back to the cause of Mediterranica. I spoke with the Grestonian President, The Right Honorable, as he surly is, Llwelyn Wilten Madoc early tonight. He informed me of his nation's actions against the Gothic forces in and around his country. Tonight they fight a bitter battle to drive these foreigners from their soil and I pledged our support for his cause. Tonight Mediterranica reunites, no longer divided against these foreign powers, but banded together to free ourselves. Tonight we declare that Mediterranica is for Mediterranicans only! Accordingly I have ordered the Federal Navy to assist any forces engaging the Gothic Fleet off Waldenburg. As I speak the 3rd, 4th, and 12th Fleets are moving to join the 1st, 2nd, and 6th Fleets operating off the Wolf Holdian coast, from there they will move south to engage any hostile elements in the waters off Waldenburg.

"I ask the people of Oseato to be patient, as this is sure to be a bloody struggle. However there shall never be a more righteous, more just. This action must be taken, to assure that our nation and our neighbors do not feel the naked aggression of Gholgoth. We must stay the course, weather any crises, overcome any challenges, so that our sons and daughters may live in a world that is truly free. Thank you, and God bless."

The crowd was silent for a moment, taking in the full meaning of the speech. Oseato would go to war, a war the likes the Federation had never seen. Soon after, however, they erupted in cheers. They would support their troops and avenge all those who had been stomped underfoot by the Gothic forces. They would join their fellow Mediterranicans, regardless of the consequences.
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"If world opinion is too feeble or egoistical to do justice to a martyred people, and if our voices also are too weak, I hope that Hungary’s resistance will endure until the counter-revolutionary State collapses everywhere in the East under the weight of its lies and contradictions."

Albert Camus, The Blood of The Hungarians, 1957

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Cukarica
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Cukarica » Fri Jun 26, 2009 6:56 am

[OOC] Agreed about this via MSN.

Directorate HQ
New Huphenstadt
Cukaricanum Prior



Drake was pleased with himself,his intimate knowledge of the battle plan against the Goths , was schemed months before the Waldenburg invasion started,but now something happened,something that would change the course of this war.
As Drake moved into the briefing room he was obviously nervous and edgy,but still a he was pleased with the recent events that happened in Mediterranica.He approached the huge round table in the center of the war room ,most of the Directors were already present,including ISTO liason ,Admiral Maximilian Hoenzolern ,one of the best tacticians and commanders in the Cukarican military.
He looked down at the maps in front of him, clearing his mind of what he had planned the night before.It seemed that the Vetalians betrayed Mediterranica yet again ,and he was annoyed with that move of theirs.
Drake was a pretty good military strategist , but he knew enough to know that he would need a lot of work to carve up the Gothic hordes.Then again, the campaign he had designed with the help of other Mediterranican leaders wasn’t going be a Blitzkrieg-like campaign,it should be a long,a very long war of attrition and massive casualties were deemed to happen on both sides.After he personnaly witnessed the crimes that were commited by the Goths in Waldenburg,the Grand ProConsul of Cukarica,Field Marshal of the Directorate's Legions,His Excellency Gordon Drake Augustus,felt that it was time to react,and now the Grestonians started up their joint operation.

Then he sighed and started his speech,every Director was quiet and nervously awaited for Drake to start to talk...

"Gentlemen,you all know what happened earlier today.Mediterranica fought back,our fellow compatriots in the Imperial Republic of Greston,finally realized,what is the true goal of Vorgoth.They stood up against the oppressors and tyrants,will they stand alone?
I say no.We will not leave them,we will never leave our fellow countrymen,few months ago the situation was horrible,but that all changed.We have been mocked and pushed around by these aggressors for too long,a new dawn will rise my brothers,a dawn of a new Mediterranica!
And brothers i can assure you,we shall be victorious,simply because we fight for a greater cause,greater then greed and bloodthirstiness,we fight for freedom for the preservation of our way of life.
And because of that,initiate defense plan WILCO ,and notify our regional allies of this event."

He finished his speech confidently,viewing the Directors and awaiting a response or an argument,but it didn't came.They started to cheer and applaud.
The Directorate was now at war.


Code: Select all
To: Grestonian Armed Forces HQ
From: Directorate's High Command
Maximum encryption ZULU-TANGO-BETA

Dear friends,everything is going according to our plan,expect reinforcements soon if any complications with the Gothic forces come out.
Seventeen Skyguard Marine Regiments are currently on standby to be airdropped in Greston if needed.
Operation plan WILCO has started.Good hunting.


Port Arthur
Greater Hoelzern
Cukaricanum Prior


Port Arthur,one of the largest Naval facilities in the Directorate was swarming with activity,everything was being readied for the imminent deployment of several taskforces of the Seventh Storm Fleet.
With the entire Colonial Fleet already deployed,elements of the Home fleet were being readied to start hunting down Gothic supply ships,as that was the key of victory.Gothic lines were very long,and now they were thinner and thinner as they lost their base of operations in the Imperial Republic of Greston.
Command of the fleet was given to one of the most experienced Admirals of the Directorate's Navy,Maximus DuGaulle,who had more then thirty years of combat experience in numerous Cukarican navies.

"Gothic hordes will soon taste the vengeance of Mediterranica. Their judgment day has finally come.General Rimmel was right. This is a war of attrition,and it is the key to victory here. If I had assaulted the Gothic fleet with the Oseatons and Wolf Holdians,as that bloody Aurelian suggested we would never have made it this far... Nevertheless, the time is upon us, Captain, to do what we came here for. We will liberate Mediterranica in the name of Liberty!"

After he had a little speech onboard his flagship the "Maiden of Randiland" he moved into the briefing room and stoped an aide who was going past him,Maximus gave him a small letter and whispered something to him.Aid snapped at attention and moved out with haste.

Maximus was an aristocratic officer of the Cukarican navy,came from a sailor family and educated on the New Huphenstadt's most prominent Military Academy.He despised the Gothic war doctrine viewing them as a bloodthirsty horde of savage murderers and criminals.
Another thing that his soldiers didn't knew that he was diagnosed cancer,shortly before they left,he volunteered for this mission as he wanted to die gloriously in battle,instead of a slow and painful death,tied up to a bed in Cukarica.

"Dearest Mikaela, -By now the news of my departure - The Goths will prove to be very sturdy warriors,and we are are hopelessly outnumbered,as I'm not acting together with the Colonial forces,me and my battlegroup are on our own for now,we are sent here to tame the un-tamable and to destroy ourselves for the greater good of our beloved country Whatever you may hear about what has happened out there, know this: The 7th Storm fleet,took most of the casualties because we are ordered to do so.Some people will say that i killed them,that my pride killed him.And that my pride consumed me as well.That is not true. You will never see me again MIkaela.Tell our children that I love them, - and that their father died in defense of their future. Goodbye my love,don't forget me."

After few hours the 7th Storm fleet started their journey to Greston,that land of freedom and liberty...


Fenris island Archipelago
Military Federation of the Wolf Hold
Cukarican Colonial fleet


A magnificent sight...hundreds of combat ready warships were sailing across the Mordian sea,their clear goal...the destruction of the Gothic fleets.But for now it was a waiting game,an official statement was released about joint Wolf Holdian-Cukarican exercises in the Fenris archipelago but their true goal was far more sinister.
The sheer amount of the forces there was unspeakable of as the entire Colonial fleet gathered it's forces and manpower to fight the largest naval engagement in the recent history of Mediterranica.
After the Command of the fleet received reports that Oseatons entered the war,the entire fleet went to SECCOM 5,highest alert level since the WW2.

Unknown to the Gothic forces everything seemed like an ordinary military exercise,but several dozen Tu-22M bombers carrying Raduga Kh-22 armed with conventional warheads were getting ready to fly toward Waldenburg,along those bomber forces,Escort should be provided by several squadrons of Nachmerian-made SF-20 Hammer fighters.
Engines of the mighty planes roared and they started to take off,one by one into the blue Mediterranican sky,toward Waldenburg and it's war-thorn possessions,battle was raging and the Cukaricans will join it.

Everything was ready for the assault to begin,soon the final revelation shall unveil the curtain of darkness that is currently flying on wind above Mediterranica.
Last edited by Cukarica on Fri Jun 26, 2009 1:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.
|Tyrrhenia|
Please note that my nation is no longer called Cukarica, but Elysian Empire or Imperium Elysium.
Imperivm Elysivm: Wiki
Imperivm Elysivm: OOC & IC Factbook
Imperium Elysivm: Embassies
Quotes to remember
<Rodarion> even Yallak is reluctant to fight the Legions of Cvkarica
<Mykola> Cvk it takes a thread on II to get you to do anything
<Ralk> I'd have to blast my way through cvk. In doing so I'd lose a lot of men.
<Ossoria> isn't stupid enough to challenge someone with the caliber of military that is Cvk when he is right on the border
<Rodarion> I'm never going to try to invade you lol

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Malatose
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Malatose » Fri Jun 26, 2009 1:28 pm

Imperial Naval HQ
Unity Gardens
Continental Empire of Malatose


"A meeting at the Tactical Briefing room. Maybe I'll get my chance to finally engage in combat." Fleet Admiral Joseph Grunger said as he put on his cap and straightened his military uniform. The Admiral, one of the youngest in the Imperial Navy, exited his office and headed towards the long hall, towards the briefing room. When he reached the briefing room, he saw the Chief of Naval Operations, Grand Admiral Neil Grant surrounded by the Emperor's Imperial Advisors, Ministers and other Naval officials. As soon as he entered the room, the Chief of Naval Operations requested for the Fleet Admiral to take a step forward, to listen to the briefing.

"Well, our Gholgoth allies, who are involved in the Mediterranica theatre of war. At the moment, the Emperor has only pledged Naval support. However that can change." After speaking, Grant pointed a map of Mediterranica. "Right now, we expect it to turn to a huge naval battle. That is where you come in, Grunger."

Grunger looked at the map curiously. "Wouldn't a massive fleet deployment to that area take a good week? maybe two depending on conditions."

"Exactly Grunger" Grant replied. "But you won't be going directly into the heat of combat. You're first being deployed to the Vtluuojedix docks in Novacom. There you will sit and await further orders."

Grunger nodded slightly. "When do I deploy my fleet?"

"Right now, of course" the Grand Admiral replied.

"Yes Sir."

Port Lusankya
Naval Base of the 1st Imperial Fleet


Activity at Port Lusankya was at an all time high, as Imperial sailors and various other crew worked at a quickened pace to prepare the Imperial ships for deployment. Large cranes loaded the VLS tubes of the various cruisers, destroyers and frigates, while the larger ships such as the carriers and battleships left the port one after another. Overhead, Admiral Grunger's personal VTOL craft flew low. He looked out the side viewing port at the sight of his massive fleet of 787 ships leaving the port. It was a magnificent sight and Admiral Grunger never got used to it.

Soon, his personal crafted landed on the helicopter pad of his personal flagship, the Super Dreadnought Thunderbolt. As he exited his transport, a large honor guard of Imperial Marines were present, standing at attention. At the head of the line, standing at attention, were his captain and other various deputies. After greeting them, he headed towards the communication and command center and took his place at the command helm.

At the command station, Fleet Admiral Grunger read the dozens of reports coming in. All were mostly the basic fleet messages and ship status reports. He stretched slightly and took off his cap, relaxing a bit as he knew he had a long journy ahead of him. The Imperial 1st Fleet was now headed towards Vtluuojedix docks in Novacom at full speed.
Last edited by Malatose on Fri Jun 26, 2009 1:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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New Greston
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Ex-Nation

Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby New Greston » Fri Jun 26, 2009 3:29 pm



Wensday, 11:41 PM
Ghothic Station "Icestone", Mont-du-Plame
Eastern Approach


Captain Nathanial Maitland and Lieutenant Timothy Faolán held their tower, slaughtering Freeks in groupings when they could. The mission wasn't going as planned and the initial probing force was retreating as the tanks and snipers began to push foward. There was a steady line of MT-1 "Jaguar" Main Battle Tanks on the Eastern, Western, and Northern approachs, boxing the Sentinels into the base. Then the pride of the night shown bright in the sky, PARS SAGE-227 F rounds pounded into the night sky from the forty M270 MLRSs on the forest edge on the Eastern approach. Large groupings of units were being targetted as UAV updates came up on the screens on the artillery launchers. The munitions were standard dumb bombs, but caused mass havok on the barely organized groupings of Sentinels, as the infantry not only faced tanks, were outgunned, surrounded, but they then had upwards to seven hundred PARS SAGE-227 F landed on and near them.

Massive amounts of lead was being pumped in their direction by the retreating infantry, tanks filling in the space they gave up and letting their gatling guns tear the dirt and Sentinels apart. The smoothbores weren't fired often, rather only when the good hunting of six or more Sentinels in one boxed in spot were firing. The grenades and enemy fire was being shrugged off by the tanks, of the initial probing force only forty two fell. The tanks continued moving and didn't stop and fight it out in hot spots, rather attemping to keep the Sentinels into the base area, giving the artillery better firing positions.

Lieutenant Timothy Faolán kept Guard Tower #2 alive as Sentinels swarmed it at the base. The bright condescending lights blinded the tired soldiers, weary and droggy from being thrown out of their sleep into pitched battle. Faolán's L7A1 GPMG rattled endlessly, tearing apart the groups of Sentinels below him, he was relentless and ferosious, screaming curses to the dead enemy as his bullets impacted. His commander, Captain Maitland, was being more precise with his shooting, waiting for the perfect shot before he would pull back on the trigger of his Gepárd M1 anti-material rifle, splitting a Sentinel's head in half, at the least.

Wensday, 11:43 PM
Ghothic Station "Icestone", Mont-du-Plame
Northwestern Approach


The bright light of burning barracks and ravaged buildings luminated the night sky, the spurting flames from the nozzles of the infantry guns only adding to the ominous downpour of dim, sour, treacherous light. The light of war. The night, which would have normally been a dark one, infact possible pitch black as storm clouds tossed around in the sky, blotting out the sun and stars, was creating a glow that could even be seen from Slyvmyrston. PARS SAGE-227 F bombs impacted on the soil and Freek not seventy yards away from Major Cibrán Audley Fridirek and his division of M270 Multiple Launch Rocket Systems. He glared into the sky, grinning from ear to ear as the rounds shot out from their MLRS's. He would listen intently so he could follow the round then enjoy the sound of the impact and the possible screams of the men he wished he injured or killed.

But he could not hear a sound, not the screaming of commands, the agonizing wails of the injured, firing of bullets, the launching of missiles and artillery pieces, the crunching metal from an artillery round, or the popping of rounds from the tanks smoothbores could be heard. They were all blanked out as Major Cibrán Audley Fridirek went temporarily def; the cause was of the engines of twenty F-37 Eurafighter Nemesis' flying overhead. As they flew past the Major, his cap fell off and his hair rustled in the wind, they were flying not thirty feet above the tree line. Cibrán watched in awe, listening intently all the same, as the swoosh of two Storm Shadow SCALP EG cruise missiles flew from under the wings into nearby targets, followed by two Brimstone missiles and several hundred bullets from the GAU-12 Gattling Cannon, leaving bullet casings littering the remains and fires of the Icestone base.

Then came the pride of the hour, twenty B1B Lancer strategic bombers flew valiantly above, gleaming in the firelight. Waiting for the friendlt aircrafts to roll out of the scene, smoke began to envelope over certain areas, then the payloads were released. Twenty four White phosphorus highly fatal thermobaric boms, napalm at its best, was emptied per plane upon built up targets and the base itself. The fire enveloped the ground and smoke fogged the air. Smoke and fire billowed and added to the already thick haze from the late night moisture. As they left their carnage behind the, planes swooped in again to unleash even more havoc on enemy targets, the ninety six missile installations of the small GBU-39 SDB GPS guided bomb, per B1B Lancer, touched off and followed weapon muntions and the half tracks and tanks that were on the ground for repair.

It was like the fourth of july at Icestone, and the fireworks were beautiful.

Wensday, 11:46 PM
Ghothic Station "Icestone", Mont-du-Plame
Western Approach


MIM-104 Patriot PAC-3's lined the grassy knolls near the border outskirts of the official town of Mont-du-Plame, no longer the lifeless, knolly military land of Icestone. The trucks guns were trained on the enemy air craft scrambling into the skys, then the skies were lit up with M248 Composition B HE missiles, fragmentation missiles with two layers of pre-formed fragments, that lit up the night sky once again. Gleeful children, awaken by the noises of night, and arroused and frightened parents alike ran to the windows of their homes as the drifters and partiers on the streets looked up to see the sky light up with a splendid display of fireworks. The crowds on the streets began to applaused in ignorant bliss, not knowing that the display was not for fun, rather for defense, for their protection.

More missiles from the SAMs had been launched then there were Freekish planes scrambled, each had at least three missiles tailing them, with many more being launched after the first were confirmed misfires or impacts. BM-27 Uragan (9P140) Multiple Launch Rocket Systems dotted the knolls and tall grass, their targets were the ever disintigrating Icestone Base, which had more artillery raining down on it's position then there were Freekish Sentinels at the base. And it was a beautiful sight.

Until small divisions of troops began lose soldiers quickly and a haze of smog began to form around them. It was an obvious checmical attack and the perpetrayers were the Freekish fleet. Two hundred Grestonian soldiers quickly dropped before they could get into their NBC gear, multiple more dropping from being infected and it not being fatal straight away. Retaliatory orders were sent and the Grestonian Armed Forces jumped to action.

Wensday, 11:51 PM
GMNS Mercury, Stait of Kos on Plame
Approaching Freekish Fleet at North and South Entrances


Commodore Quin Mannes took in a deep breath as the brisk wind of the night wrapped around him in the Control Chambers of the GMNS Mercury, a massive Davidson-class Superdreadnought, guns loaded and weapon systems online. Behind it there was easily four hundred ships, with thousands of planes hovering above it, from F-37 Eurafighter Nemesis' to B1B Lancers, there were more planes in the sky then the missiles that the Ghothic fleet could muster. The fleet simply pulled foward, waiting for the Freeks to make the first move. Then in a surprise attempt, AShM's from both the coastal defenses of Mont-du-Plame and Kos, there were upwards to 72,000 Moskits launched and aimed at enemy battleships, jammers were hasteningly being thrown up to falter the enemy's communications.

When the ES-315 Capricorn-class Stealth Attack Submarines went to their depth, the Freeks had worse things to worry about, bigger fish to fry. Thirty ES-315 Capricorn-class Stealth Attack Submarines approached on either side of the Freekish fleet, once in range they unleashed, as a prelimary strike, their twenty 650mm torpedoe tubes, ejecting the torpedoes out of their tubes into their water as they travelled hastily towards the enemy. Hurriedly each of the sixty submarines launched one of their two 650mm 'Sprint' tube-launched cruise missiles at enemy flagships and carriers, it was imperitent to wipe out the big guns first then aim for the small ships.

The fleet waited back as the submarines and coastal anti-shipping missiles wreaked havoc upon the enemy, when the time was right they would strike, until then waiting and watching.
Last edited by New Greston on Sat Jun 27, 2009 8:14 am, edited 2 times in total.
The Imperial Republic of GrestonWestminister Defensive Bloc | Grestonian Commonwealth
Common Economic Protocals Treaty | Athican East Tyrrhenian Pact

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The Wolf Hold
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Founded: Feb 14, 2009
Ex-Nation

Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby The Wolf Hold » Fri Jun 26, 2009 3:32 pm

Infront of the National War Memorial
Wolfograd, The Military Federation of The Wolf Hold


It had been a shock to the people of the city when workers had begun carving names on the giant slabs of black that resided in the park at the centre of Wolfograd. Names were carved on from time to time, but never in such large numbers and never with such large sections of the wall being filled at one time. The whole cities morale had slowly sunk as they had watched day after day more names painted on the black slabs, the gold leaf paint making the names stand out against the now duller names of battles past. After a week and a half of solid work on the names, the workers disappeared back to wherever they had come from and the memorial now stood solemnly in the park, the new names of the honoured dead casting a silent message out to the inhabitants of Wolfograd. War is coming.

Two days after the last name was engraved on the wall, 1st Wolf's Marshalls Cain was due to make an announcement, the rumours ranged from an attack on ODECON, to an invasion by the Gothic forces and all the way to betrayal by ISTO member nations. The nation waited with bated breath as on a glorious day, sun blazing down onto the podium onto which Cain climbed up on to. It was evident that recent events had taken a toll on him, he wrinkles were more pronounced, shadows under his eyes obvious and his normally pristine uniform was ruffled. With a glance over the assembled crowd in front of the memorial, stretching to the edges of the crowd, he full well knew that this address was being broadcast on screens all over the country and so gathering himself he began an address that would plunge the Wolf Hold and its people into a conflict of a scale they had never witnessed before.

"Men, women, children of The Wolf Hold, it is with a heavy heart that I address you today on such a glorious day as well. Our nation has always been seen as militaristic and that is a view we want others to uphold as well, one part of our nations ethos is unwavering loyalty to our armed forces and so it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that over 200,000 sailors and 100 ships have been massacred fighting Gothic forces in Ismeria. I ordered the 5th Fleet, Longsword Battlegroup Fell and the 8th Wolf Pack deployed to Ismerian waters on a peace keeping mission to ensure the safety of civilians who were being oppressed by the forces in that region. Alongside out forces our ever faithful allies in the ISTO Oseato and Nachmere deployed forces to support our endeavour, sadly also we must report heavy losses amongst our allies at the hands of the inhumane Bourman and Generic Empires.

However I also have something that we have all longed for, The Imperial Republic of Greston believed to be a traitor to Mediterranica and one of the key elements in leading to the destruction visited upon our neighbours has turned from the Vorgothic Pact and has betrayed them. Even as we speak they are engaged in a bitter battle to free themselves of the yolk of the Gothic nations in which unspeakable horrors have been unleashed by the dishonourable Gothic forces. It is our time, the time has come to unite and push forward, it is time to force these invaders from our region and make them pay thrice fold for each man, woman and child they have killed. To this effect I have ordered the entirety of the IV, X and XVII mechanised airborne corps to deploy to Greston to assist them in destroying the Gothic nations. Also I have begun a total recall of all non essential Federal Navy ships from overseas so we may best fight the Gothic nations, our navy will form up with the Fleets of Oseato and Cukarica in forming an overwhelming naval force to destroy these barbarians.

We will smash these barbarians from their high pulpit in which they think they have leave to dictate to other nations, we will crush their militaries under our armoured claws, our troops will roam their hills seeding death and destruction, we will show these bastards the true meaning of a wolfs rage, we will tear their throat out and to quote one of our closest allies we shall bloody our paws once more with the blood of these murderous bastards, now I need to know one thing wolves.......are you with me?!"

The crowd had stood there first in shocked silence as the news about the scale of the destruction visited upon their navy and the navies of their allies, then it changed to quiet excitement, Greston turning was a great sign and from what Cain was saying it seemed that the Med had finally united and then it hit them, they were going to war with the Vorgothic pact, something many of them had wished from the beginning. Cain’s final words drew a massive roar from the crowd, they would support him and they would extract the blood price for each of those dead sailors happily. As the scenes were replicated across the country Cain was less jubilant as he wondered what he had just let his nation in for.
The Federal Republic of Nidia

Note: Nation name changed to Nidia

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Novacom
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Democratic Socialists

Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Novacom » Fri Jun 26, 2009 6:49 pm

“Message from Novatkavarjhyonzin, Nytkar,” echoed the subtle quite tones of a Loxtritarkar, respectfully stood at sharp attention in the doorway, awaiting the Sanharkehlzii’s word.

“Proceed Loxtritarkar,” came the cultured tones of Sanharkehlzii Vytarkormyledgh, his gaze fixed upon the shifting crystals of the Trkyzyz clock upon his desk, as each wove their own intricate orbit in a complex method that provided an infallible method of timekeeping.

Greston has betrayed us sir, they hold Azrael and Vidimir captive and attempted to hold the Freekish contingent there prisoner,
The Sanharkehlzii casually swept his hand over a part of his console, “Bridge, relay the order, Element Distribution Zhokensuyai, Primary Array Destination is Greston,” the man smiled as he leaned back in his chair hands behind his head, a smile of feline grace, “Continue Loxtritarkar”

The Novan Contingent had been spread out in a wide array near Vetalia, ensuring that any attempts to sever the Gothic supply lines running steady course through Gholgoth to the Novan Home Isles, and then on to Mediterannica via Vetalia, would be direly unsuccessful, as a result the Gothic Contingents had swollen to biblical proportions, the Novans forces in particular had expanded, yet few could tell as of yet what danger they posed, due to their unorthodox ways even their ships defied easy identification.

----------------


The Novan fleet hurtled through the waves, creating a grand crest, as if preceded by a great score of white stallions, the great white hulls were adorned with banners flags and pennants, the Icon of Novacom figured most prominently, in addition to black and red trim, Tokontu soared throughout the skies, Sklulavren’s danced across the waves, weaving an intricate pattern, similar to that being woven under the weaves by Kluumtchaxzaxr’s.
The Superstructure of the vessels swooped up to great towers, and between them hung yet more flags and battle standards, in addition to advanced equipment. The ships, they shone as they skimmed the surface so wift and fast, while in their wake sailed a gargantuan pair, they were the Dalniartexnioth, and they were of truly prodigious proportions, great isles of metal, festooned with weaponry among other things, these floating island fortresses had plied the Mediterannican waters for some time now, and their capabilities were still as of yet unknown, they housed great fleets and contained great masses of aerial craft, they were awesome, and loomed behind the swift Novan fleet, like an eternal mountain, inevitable and implacable.
“Status?” uttered Srihacul Reece Dau Kenzal, his arms folded behind his back, as he faced out peering through the window, lost in thought.

It’ll be a day, maybe a day and a half until we link up with the Freekish forces at Greston,” responded the Loxtritarkar as he gazed over his Datapad, while Reece gazed, seemingly into eternity over the superstructure of the vessel.

“Excellent,” returned Reece, the man took two steps back before padding over to his desk, “I want Tkarnolten’s Rhokex, Xhonez, Djina, Myol and Tarokethnen, sent up here at once, I want you to ensure our forces are ready, oh and don’t let any force other than Gothic within 1000 Kretzels of our position, I don’t have much faith in the locals,” he declared before sliding into his chair smiling widely.

----------------


"My People, we cannot afford to be lax now, not when peace is so close, the people of Mediterannica, they cry out for liberation from blindness, they are bound and chained by their overlords, the truth is hidden from them and they are spoonfed lies daily,” Great banners fluttered in the evening wind, the great Tower of Destiny shone in the moonlight as the camera panned to show the great gathering in Vruzanazan Square, hundreds if not Thousands of Novan Soldiers stood at proud attention, heads tilted up to the Suprainister, faces hidden by their iconically Enigmatic helmets, the visors of which glowed a gentle red in the moonlight, a thousand score and more braziers were borne, the flickering flames burning brightly, illuminating the many flags borne and banners raised, while Novan Citizens gazed up hanging on every word, eyes wide and expression clearly eager for what the Suprainister would say next, many themselves waved flags, young girls clasped their hands and smiled, a smile full of hope for a better future, and yet others bore what were clearly lovingly crafted signs, declaring their belief in the Suprainister, congratulating him on his recent engagement or their faith in the Novan state and various other Minutia.

“We must continue on in this great undertaking, we must liberate the people of Mediterannica, to live in peace and happiness against those who would bring forth the dark shroud of ignorance, much like those who dared to darken our region with our brothers internal affairs in Ismeria and Kyserkovia, they claim to love liberty and freedom, they bewail and mourn those that have fallen, yet they do not, they do not understand why they have fallen, they do not cherish their reasons, they do not know of their struggles and their hopes and dreams, they cannot mourn those who have died without knowing their purpose.” His arms rose and his voice became more pained, his hands seemed to embrace the Novan emblem emblazoning the billowing banners behind him, his expression one of supreme fervour, “The True Tragedy of those events is that the innocent died because their leaders were corrupt and thought only for their own gain, and when this was redressed the leaders did not suffer, no it was their subjects, their flock!”

“We have fought and we have struggled for years against treachery and betrayal, those who seek to follow the old ways, would have us all follow them into darkness, yet we deny them and oppose them at every turn, and we shall continue to do so. Yet more enemies present themselves their eyes bound and their ears sealed, they shall never understand, filled only with lies, unable to accept the nature of reality. They have Barricaded themselves behind Lies and Illusions,” At this the Suprainister brought his fists down upon the podium, “It is this that aggrieves me most, such tragic suffering yes, but all the more tragic that we must deal with this, stand fast my people, for if we falter we shall fall, yet united we shall triumph eternal!” Great Cheering filled Vruzanazan square as the peopled cheered and cried in happiness, the soldiers saluted and the surrounding city of Novesia shone and shimmered in quiet moonlight.

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Automagfreek
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Automagfreek » Sat Jun 27, 2009 2:40 pm

It was chaos, sweet glorious chaos on the ground as the Sentinels fought tooth and nail to hold their ground. Though the enemy was fierce in their onslaught, they were attacking an entrenched foe with a force a third of its size, with a large portion of troops in reserve. The full effect of the surprise chemical attack was not known, but soon the last of the VX barrage was targeted at the nearby city from which their enemy had staged and was using as a flatform for artillery fire. As the last of the toxic chemical rounds were loosed, gunnery crews from the nearly thousand ship strong fleet began to fire conventional shells as fast as they could in order to support their embattled ground forces and stave off the enemy advance. Small 5" guns from the decks of destroyers and battleships were primarily used to engage the attacking hostile ground units and break up their numbers, while the larger 16" guns had began to target enemy artillery deeper inside the Grestonian mainland as well as the large enemy reserve force.

The Sentinels knew that they could not stay stationary for long, for the near city sized base was visibly showing signs of devastation and would continue to be pounded by artillery without pause. Their best option would be to push forward and engage the enemy infantry face to face, which would force the hostile guns to cease fire for fear of hitting their own men, and with all non-friendly communications being jammed it was likely that gunnery crews would not risk decimating their infantry accidently. The Sentinels that were in the immediate kill zone of the enemy ambush had returned a staggering amount of fire in the form of rifles and squad automatic weapons, firing from rubble or from the prone position behind whatever cover they could find. The troops that were not at the immediate front line of the advance had successfully identified their enemy's position and had begun shifting fire accordingly as the men in the kill zone prepared to initiate their assault.

The Grestonians had initiated a poorly coordinated raid and were now relying heavily on indirect fire to break up the Sentinel ranks, which commanders on the ground would use to their advantage. After orgnaizing into platoons, flanking elements began to maneuver outwards from the main engagement zone, parallel at first, but turning inwards after traveling a few hundred yards and engaging accordingly. The entire Sentinel contingent towards the rear of the compound began to execute this same maneuver, stacking their flanks further and further out before swinging them inwards like a door. It was difficult to execute given the current situation, and with artillery and rockets exploding randonly across the compound, their minds took them back to a time when they had faced similar erradication at the hands of an old foe turned friend; the Kraven Corporation.

Remember Kravonika boys, remember Kravonika!

A deep howl from the Sentinel ranks echoed across the battlefield, and with adrenaline coursing through their veins they continued to push foward. The center element of the Sentinel force was essentially shaped like a giant wedge, but as it began to move forward in unison columns of troops rushed foward and branched out to the flanks near the tip of the wedge and add an enormous additional volume of fire to the battle. Sentinel Marines that were driving ashore in landing craft and amphibious vehicles would soon take the extreme left of the main body and deal a crushing blow to their foes. The Grestonian military had never gone head to head with such a well trained and experienced military before, and the tactics the Sentinels had employed thus far were forged and learned through hundreds of years of relentless Freekish warfare.

Sentinels fired aggressively and laid down a heavy volume of suppressive fire which tore through the charging Grestonians with great ferocity, for they had the disadvantage in terms of cover and were essentially caught in the open in great numbers around their incursion point. Even as casualties continued to mount, Freekish light vehicles and tanks tried as best they could to provide assistance, firing madly into the heathen ranks from afar and maneuvering wildly throughout the massive compound. Additional tanks and fighting vehicles were being loaded onto landing craft in order to give the Sentinels addedl support, though some were already loaded following their return from repairs on the mainland before the fighting started and would be sent right back into the fray. Snipers had stationed themselves within the ruins of buildings, under fallen trees, and wherever they could find cover so that they could begin picking off Grestonian soldiers with precision fire. Machine guns which had been brought up from the stores were deployed along the Sentinels flanks so that they could commence sweeping, interlocking fire that was aimed inwards and rain a punishing torrent of lead upon their foes.

While the ground force was busy pushing back against the incursion, planes from the naval taskforce had began to arrive off the coast, the pilots stunned to see such carnage taking place on the ground. 'Sea Scorpion" fighters flew low to the ground while their "Stratosfighter II" counterparts roamed the at high altitude in order to enter the enemy airspace and gain control. AWACS had provided a laundry list of airborne targets to engage and transmitted that information to the individual planes, and with their on board radars off to maintain their stealth the "Stratosfighters" locked on to incoming hostile planes and fired their long range "Skewer" missiles, after which they banked sharply upwards and prepared for another salvo. The "Sea Scorpions" meanwhile were tasked with providing close air support for the Sentinels, and their first strike would be to deploy sensor fuzed bombs against the enemy's vehicles in the form of mobile rocket launchers, artillery, and tanks.

Screaming loudly overhead, the first of "Sea Scorpions" broke into their attack formations and loosed their bombs, which as they fell to the ground broke apart and unleashed nearly a dozen smaller submunitions. These submunition canisters then released around 40 even smaller submunitions, which actively scanned the ground using lasers and infrared sensors until they positively acquired the profile of the hostile vehicles. From there they fell directly on the top of the vehicle and fired an explosively formed penetrator into its heart. Several of these bombs were dropped over the MLRS batteries as well as the advancing tank and light vehicle elements that had been assaulting the base itself. This was designed to permanently silence them and ease the bombardment against the Sentinels, and a second strike towards the hostile mobile artillery batteries in the city was en route at sea. After dropping their bombs, the "Sea Scorpions" broke off contact and began to engage the hostile aircraft as they attempted to fly in and decimate those on the ground, as well as to bomb the enemy reserve force into ruin. Freekish SAM sites throughout the large base that had not been destroyed fired their missiles into the sky to assist the incoming fighters in fending off the aerial assault, though it was unclear how much longer they would remain intact before getting hit with shells or rockets.

Freekish pilots now had their foes in an aerial pincer, firing long range missile from above and medium range missiles from below and up front. Enemy radar and communications were still being jammed but with every increasing intensity as additional EW planes were scrambled from the decks of their carriers, making it more and more difficult for the Grestonians to burn through it. In addition, a few "Stratosfighter II's" that had been patrolling the sea for outside hostiles were equipped with anti-radiation missiles in case of an enemy air attack from some unknown origin, and these were now turned against the ground based systems that were attempting to scan the skies in vain in light of the intense radar jamming. This would give Freekish pilots free reign to engage and eliminate the Grestonian bombers and their small escort, and as more friendly planes took to the skies the focus was now being shifted further inland to prevent additions to the chaos.

Cruise missiles were being fired en masse from the fleet at the nearby Grestonian military installations; airfields, fuel dumps, and even the nearby power grid. From surface and subsurface cells the missiles flew forth as fast as they safely could be loosed, each one pinpointing a crucial target that satellite imagery had provided in order to shorten the enemy's ability to sustain the raid. AWACS and SBR had also positively identified a Grestonian fleet and air detachment that was heading towards their position, and Admiral Bradley prepared to engage that element outright and crush it. But before he could, a swarm of anti-shipping missile were fired at his ships with intent of sending him to the bottom and sealing the fate of the Sentinels on the land. This was not going to happen, for the massive EW campaign had already done several things; jam hostile electronic signatures as well as radar, making it extremely difficult to even target the Freekish ships.

But from the very second the launch was detected by fleet based defensive systems, shipboard ECM began to kick in and add to the near absurd level of electronic warfare already being conducted by the Freeks. It was not clear how many launchers had engaged the fleet, but each platform was only able to fire as fast as the flatform itself would allow. This meant that a positive lock would have to take place, and even though it was unlikely to happen given the sheer scale of the Freekish EW defenses, Bradley's ships would still have to deal with missiles that somehow were still able to engage. This would be the bread and butter of the codenamed "Raptor" ECM system, whos lens fed multi-beam array produced very high noise and would not only further help jam the missiles, but also divert them away from the fleet. TO increase their survivability, UAV drones were dispatched to serve as decoys, and as the ships jammed and diverted the inbound missiles away from themselves, the UAV's would attempt to lure them to themselves, for the missile's on board systems would naturally choose the best, most clear signature to engage.

In the event that missiles somehow made it through, long and medium range interceptors were immediately on hand to deal with whatever threat was still posed. It seemed that the Grestonian assault knew no limits, for 'Supremacy' class submarines patrolling the outer picket lines of the fleet had detected incoming hostile subs, which had already fired torpedoes towards the Freekish fleet and given away their position. Having been alerted to the launch via SONAR, the outermost ships of the picket line deployed their towed decoys and began evasive maneuvering. The decoys were advanced systems designed to decieve the hostile torpedoes and lead them away from the Freekish ships by emitting ship simulating sounds that make the decoy a much more attractive target to the torpedo than the ship. Passive acoustic sensors were also being used for threat evaluation and indeed engagement, for the larger capital ships were equipped with ASHUM guns and missile boats were capable of firing anti-torpedo torpedos, all of which were on immediate standby in the event that the decoys were not able to lead the enemy salvo astray.

As the automated networked fleet defense continued its analysis and engaegment protocols, the 'Supremacy' class submarines which had lingered silently at the outer reaches of the picket line acquired a positive lock on all of the hostile submarines, who in haste had completely blown their cover by firing off long range torpedoes and charging towards the Freekish fleet. While maintaining their stealth, the 'Supremacy' subs flooded their torpedo tubs and opened the hatches, allowing their outgoing ordnance to enter the water silently without the normal blast of compressed air to propell the torpedo forward. From there, silent pumpjet engines propelled the return fire foward, while sub commanders prepared a second strike follow up strike by silently turning about and enveloping their unsuspecting enemy.

While the situation on the ground was still dire, the situation at sea was to the Freek's advantage. Having taken the initiative by being the first to block out enemy electronic signals and prevent ECCM attacks, the fleet prepared their first launch of long range anti-shipping missiles. Satellites, AWACS, OTH, and space based radar all had a positive lock on the enemy fleet which was several times smaller than that of Vidimir's armada, and quickly a coordinated initial volley was loosed. The supersonic sea skimming missiles erupted forth from their tubes and began racing towards their foes under the blanket cover of EW, and the Grestonians would have extreme difficult in getting their radar to function in order to bring suitable defenses to bear. Word had also been sent to Freekish long range stealth bombers (OOC: See the original 'Angels of Agony thread for their deployment if you don't believe me) stationed in Vetalia to begin moving out in order to catch the Grestonians in a pincer. The Vetalian navy was also given a full sitrep, and though they had made public their intent to fight Greston following a failed coup, their immediate assistance was requested by Admiral Bradley.

Zander's fleet had been ordered to turn around and sail as fast as possible back to Greston, which was not too far away. The naval forces of Agrandov were then charged with supporting Yallakan and Kregaian operations against Waldenburg and its allies, so the war effort overall would not suffer. Zander was most outraged to hear of the cowardly kidnapping of Azrael and Vidimir, not to mention the attempted massacre of Sentinels camped on the Grestonian mainland. He had sent word to all carrier commanders within his fleet that their planes were to depart immediately for the warzone the second they came within range, and they were to fly until they ran out of fuel and land on Vidimir's carriers for refueling, and then subequently join the battle. It was the best he could do for now, though he yearned for a chance to take a shot at Greston in retalliation for their treachery. Lord Dreadfire's mammoth armada was also at sea but still within Gothic waters, and would not be able to join the fight for some time.
Last edited by Automagfreek on Sat Jun 27, 2009 2:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Waldenburg 2 » Sat Jun 27, 2009 6:06 pm




177th Special Air Wing
570 Miles North East of Thule
The 25th of June


When the Imperial Republic had had its change of heart it had, through secure channels based in the immense and sprawling Waldenburg spy network alerted Waldenburg to the imminent arrival of a war fleet from the north flying Freekish colors. It was confirmed later by Imperial Naval Intelligence and passed along to air command for planning a possible attack; actions had been halted when the Kreigians had begun bombarding the coastline; and a special air wing was detracted for the possibility that defenses would fall. When the Leistungi turned and the knowledge was revealed, to certain members of the planning staff, that the defenses were in little danger, Special Air Wing 177 was dispatched from it’s aerial bases in the newly rebuilt, and so recently Anagonian nuked Thule.

“Captain Thauman, drop formation sixty meters; and plane off. Left wing adjust and break to second stage, repeat second stage.” The voice of Air Marshall Towns crackled through an earpiece to a squadron leader as his craft banked slowly downwards humming gently to itself as it cut through the crisp evening sky above the cloud line, above the prevailing trade winds that might have ravaged the air group had they clung to the sea.

Of course their pilots, separated by some hundreds of miles from their aircraft watched through electric eyes as the MQ-9’s danced through air, collecting beads of water on their singular forward ominous eye that strobed and eerie red, and honed in on the Gothic fleet some miles distant.

Normally nearly undetectable the radar cross sections of the drones had been reduced even further when in post production the craft had been placed in the LEPD, which according to the Waldenburger scientific specialty, coated the drones in quasineutral plasma. The already comparatively petite and invisible aircraft was rendered nigh impossible to detect though radar, or indeed any other wave based form of identification. Heat analysis was similarly difficult as Waldenburger engineers had installed a chemical cooling system over the exhaust ports which rendered the comparatively trace amounts of heat significantly less than designed.

Of course the striking capability, speed, and multifunctionalality of the drones were considerably less than their human operated partners; however being almost invisible to everything but the naked eye at proximity, 2, 500 kilogram bombs to the drone had, in the eyes of the Air Marshall’s office be a reasonable trade off.

“Captain, satellites confirm Gothic fleet, twenty miles North-North-East of your position begin banking for attack run. Good hunting everyone.” The Air Marshall crackled out and Thauman nodded slightly as he, in some cases nodded or radioed his other pilots.

None of the weapons in his fleet were guided and thus did not require an active lock on, however at the ranges he felt able to compel his craft downward, just above 2,000 feet above sea level the few rockets, and certainly the cluster bombs stood little chance of failing to make at least some contact.


-----
A total of 388 combat drones as well as a few carrying sensor packages and laser designators to guide in the attack began descending gracefully or wings that looked to fragile to hold the frame together and far to dainty to be supporting the munitions it lugged beneath it like heavy shopping.
Dr. Volker Orsini, Dr. Atillo Cornis, Archbishop Ciro Vernando, Grand Duchess Sophia Atris, Walter Smitz (Minister of Propoganda), Vice Admiral Thousis, Archbishop Throm, Colonel Christian von Smecks-Blomburg, Deacon Francis von Später, Count Nürath-Pondderborg, Admiral Dietrich Glück-Manchwalder von Blünder, Erik Struthmund, Countess Elizabeth von Borholm, Her Royal Highness Princess Seraphina von Adolfa-Waldenburg, General Cecil Banks. Air Marshal Joseph Strumpf, Commodore Rudulph Petz, Field Marshall Felix Dertram Littoral-Aushbach, and Dr. Retirun as further information streamed into the capital and directly to the over piled Emperor’s desk were confirmed as the only survivors of the purge; considered by the ISS to be secondary and generally unimportant targets. Undoubtedly they would turn up as they sought protection and could be ultimately dealt with in a subtle matter.
--

Niemenburg
25 Miles East of Blünderburg
The 27th of May



“…Vice Admiral Thousis has proposed a rather bold theory that in fact the ISS, and the Emperor himself propagated the entire. Of course the validity of that claim is somewhat suspect with his current situation.” Admiral Dietrich dejectedly kicked an empty and abandoned paint tin into the lapping sea where the salty water soon swallowed it. “He was in the command of the 5th Battlecruiser squadron and put a hole through one of our cruisers before firing on some shore emplacements. “I heard his priority transmission before Ensign Tiller put a letter opener in my neck.” A stiff hand was raised to an oozing wound that had only begun to scar over.

“So where does that put us?” Six of the survivors stood on a greasy jetty poking into a salt marsh near Blünderburg, clad in dark traveling cloaks and most bearing wounds from their attempted assassination. Dr Orsini folded his glasses tiredly and pushed them into his jacket, “I don’t think we should trust Thousis. He has proved a loose cannon before, and with the death of his cousin….” There was a nodded chorus of agreement.

“So we are agreed we return to Blünderburg” Walter Smitz, a very thin and nervous man who spoke with in great stuttering bursts, “and seek protection from the Emperor?”

“I disagree, but my staff is certainly not loyal, and I have no where else to go,” Dietrich smiled wanly, “I wish we had a car. When was the boat supposed to be here?”

Dr. Orsini began to speak, “About,,,” he paused momentarily and cocked his head, turning his ear to a small dirt path that meandered through the hills of the Strein valley and to this boat launch where four of conspirators had, by chance and happenstance had arrived. “You hear something?”

Cecil Banks had abandoned him military regalia and looked quite small without, rather hunched and tired, “Yes? Truck?”

“Oh, dear…” Dietrich sighed and pulled a revolver from his hip, motioned to the others, “get under the dock and wait. Now please,” he waved them under and without turning strode forward to the track and caught the first glimpse of two high beams pulling over a small rise. Planting his feet in the road the admiral turned and pointed his pistol at the rolling metal frame of diesel truck, which as to his expectations pulled to a halt, twenty feet from his position.

Black clad men piled from the back and leveled assault rifles at Dietrich who in turn remained perfectly still, “You gentlemen to take in the sea?”

“On your knees!” Moving forward in perfect and symmetric harmony with their comrades the commandos pushed forward. “Drop it!”

“Who are you with? Church? Leistungi?”

“No, Admiral, I am on my own,” a pair of black choir robes jumped down from the truck and approached slowly, “and rather angry.” Eclipsing the aurora of the headlights the rather gangly form of a man, his face half red and charred scar tissue which nicely complimented the lack of hair down the right side of his head, “I have an idea Admiral.”

“Your Grace,” Dietrich bowed as he re-holstered his pistol, “It is a great honor; may I ask what you are doing out here though?”

“Looking for you, Admiral, always looking.”
--

WIS Clap of Dawn
Granzimmerburg Harbor
The 29st of May

No one, in the aftermath of the coup, and the resulting bloodbath was very certain what to do, except on very certain issues such as shining up the brass work and singing the national anthem very loudly, which was taken to with a great enthusiasm. Something about the weak heat of the morning that suggested that later the sun would punish the landscape for its reprieve the night before set idle minds away from official duties.

“Set!” A game of volleyball had been allowed on the deck of Margrave class aircraft carrier, which most the deck crew was watching lazily from deck chairs or from the still cool asphalt of the flight deck. Several senior officers had joined the impromptu game and it was generally agreed being solidly thrashed by the engine room, whom had for once ventured into sunlight.

“Close one chief,” a shirtless lieutenant called casually as he arched a return volley back over the net. Of course the first rule of playing any sport with your directly superior officers was allow them to win so the engineers were doing the best they could to hide snickers behind pale hands. But it was a nice morning.

“Captain sir!” An ensign poked his head from the bridge awning and waved his arms above his head, “there is a gibb approaching at some speed. Flying admiral’s colors!”

“Whose?” the captain of the carrier was equally relaxed, lying under his monogrammed deck umbrella, and had been for several months as the Imperial Navy had only been called up once to put to sea against the enemy.

“General arms sir. They radioed ahead they’re up for an inspection; full parade in ten minutes!”

“Shit… All hands!” The captain shot to his feet, “clear this away, and get spruced up, in formation in eight! Move!” Only slightly hesitant to abandoning their game, the various crew members scrambled to their feet and scampered into the hulk of the ship to slip into their dress uniforms.

All was chaos on the ship; flags pulled in for the rain were restrung, buttons given the once over, and the ceremonial rifles dug out from their presentation rack. It was amazing what fraternal and overall panic could accomplish and when the wooden launch was being pulled alongside the deck lift the last platoon of marines had just pulled on their pikelhauben, and clicked their heels to attention.

“Captain Moses Tritz receiving,” along with a huddle of senior officers the captain had slipped into his dress uniform and stood to waistline creasing attention under a raised command pennant, “flag officer. All hands… Attention!” With one great clicking the thousand-man port crew threw up their salute.

“Admiral von Blünder?” Tritz asked in a dumbfounded fashion as Admiral Dietrich stepped off the lift with about two-dozen black clad men cradling submachine guns in an all too casual fashion. “Aren’t you dead?”

“Hah!” Dietrich’s men fanned out as much as they could, “Not yet ; however it is my sad duty to relieve you of your ship. This command is being commandeered.”

“Of course sir, but there is paperwork…”

“I don’t think you understand we are,” the admiral waved his pistol through the air whilst looking for a word, “pirates I suppose. We’re taking it.”

“Sir… There are nearly a thousand of us, and there are only twenty of you, pack it in sir.”

Dietrich motioned with his pistol again to the forward bridge house, and with a faint smile the captain turned a smiling eye towards the building and to the two unfamiliar crewmen pointing a quad barreled 20mm cannon onto the flight deck. There seemed to be a general theme of black clad soldiers clinging to the upperworks of the ship and crawling over the side on long scaling ropes.

“Get off captain.”
--

“Claus,” Major Erik Noffel studied the Clap of Dawn with a set of binoculars, his mouth half open and neck thrust forward.

“Yes, Erik?” a second major asked happily as he marked the page of his book with his index finger.

“How high is a deck of aircraft carrier do you think?”

“Can be up to 20 meters off the water Claus; why do you ask?”

“There are approximately two thousand men fighting to jump off the flight deck,” Erik paused for a moment to focus on the scene, “of the Clap of Dawn. Is that normal do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Claus rose from his chair to peer out the window with this friend, “I’ve always had my doubts about those navy types. Should we alert the port authority?”

There were several dozen repeated flashes of light from about the harbor and a roar across the now churning bay, “They know I think. Should we do anything?”

“Is this our department Erik?”

“No,” the binoculars were lowered and a newspaper shuffled, “you’re quite right.”

OOC Just a little background on the government falling apart and so on in the bottom portion
Last edited by Waldenburg 2 on Sat Jun 27, 2009 6:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Oseato » Sat Jun 27, 2009 10:11 pm

Thursday, 3:40 AM
Nearing Grestonian Airspace


The vast aerial armada lumbered toward Grestonian airspace, escorted by several thousand F-22's, INF-2000's, and SF-20's, all armed for anti-air operations. They protected the vast numbers of lumbering cargo planes that were carrying 7 airborne divisions of the Oseaton Federal Army to Greston where they would help defend Greston from the Gothic forces now struggling to fight back against the surprise attack. The planes had taken off hours before, shortly after the call from Madoc, flying to The Wolf Hold and then onto Cukarica before beginning the longest leg of their flight to the Imperial Republic. Only extensive in flight refueling had allowed them to fly this far and this quickly.

They had purposely flown an indirect route to avoid flying over the gothic fleets and the battle raging around Mount-du-Plame. They would make their way there eventually, but only after landing, preparing for combat and refueling. The fighters soared about watching for anything that might pose a threat to the security of the troops. The roar of jet engines was deafening, the glow of the engines crossing the skies like slower moving shooting stars. Unfortunately for the airborne corps, their attack helicopters and their transport helicopters had been left at their bases in Oseato, due to the logistical nightmare of flying them to Greston. However, the troops were still well equipped and expertly trained, all of them had their standard OAR-556 assault rifles ready, but safetied, a few had Javelin missile systems in addition to their rifles, all air support would come from the fighters escorting them to Middleton, Greston.

As Greston drew closer, the fighter aircraft broke off into large formations and oriented themselves between the possible location of the Freekish fleet and the cargo planes. IFF started squawking friendly codes to the Greston ground controllers as they entered radar range. Already Grestonian Eurafighters were forming up to help escort the planes through safe corridors in the Grestonian Air Defense network. It would still be several hours before all the forces were on the ground in Greston and properly situated, but the first tangible showing of Oseaton support was about to arrive in Greston.

----
Thursday, 4:23 AM
Conference Room
Oseaton High Command Complex, Outside Oseato Cit
y

"Well sir, our airborne corps will be reaching Greston in a matter of hours, the fleets are headed south to link up with the allied fleets defending Waldenburg, and the Federal Rocket Forces are fully alert and ready for anything." Morrell, the defense minister, briefed President Hamilton. "We expect the battle in Mount-du-Plame to continue througout the night, satellite images show a massive battle unfolding there and between Grestonian and Freekish ships. Some reports from Greston are indicating that chemical weapons are being used in..ah...liberal amounts. While we didn't have our airborne corps suit up for the flight, MOPP gear is standard travel equipment, so they should be protected. The fleet action is too early to call and the ground battle is hard to decide as well. Both sides are very well armed and the Freekish forces are reacting pretty fast, but this is the Grestonian land, so we believe that while the battle is going to be bitter and hard fought, Grestonian forces ultimately benefit from being on their home soil and not on the end of a long and tenuous supply line."

"And what of the other nations? Both Med and Gothic?" questioned Hamilton, sitting in his leather chair at the center of the table, facing the large screens displaying up to the date information on the military movements and some news broadcasts. The room was pretty well decorated for an underground bunker complex. The conference center was but a single, albeit large, room in the command bunker, several sleeping rooms, a fully functioning and stocked mess kitchen, bathrooms, a sitting room, and even a gym were also part of the large complex, not to mention the High Command planning rooms and sleeping quarters, ,mess halls, and bathroom facilities for the enlisted men and officers that made up the High Command staff. After a moment General Reynard of the Office of Federal Intelligence stood to answer the question.

"We've intercepted some communiques between different parties, as well as several speeches and broadcasts. The Wolf Hold and Cukarica are both responding as we are, mobilizing and declaring open support for Greston and Waldenburg. When their forces will be deployed is not yet known. The Cukarican Colonial Fleet is sortieing from the Fernis Islands, a lot of their aircraft are up and making runs toward Waldenburg. Waldenburg itself is defending against Gothic attacks, nothing new there. Vetalia condemned Greston's actions and wishes for them to cease, interesting to note no one signed the message, but then again they've done that in the past. Several Gothic nations have responded, obviously condemning Greston's betrayal and pledging support for the Freeks. Several fleets have sailed as well, should be a while before they enter the Med. So we're looking at a lot of fighting occurring now and even more later. A lot of nations haven't responded officially yet, but we're looking at a pretty long struggle even if something drastic happens. Greston is going to need some help, but a due to their location, it's going to be tough for us to reach them without sweeping the seas clear of Gothic ships. Airborne units will only go so far, we'll need to involve heavy units at some point, or something is going to have to give."

His update concluded, Reynard took his seat again. Hamilton thought over what he had been just told, in the end simply nodding to Reynard and staring back at Morrell, there wasn't much they could do but watch the situation develop in Greston. It would still be some time before the airborne divisions were up and ready to launch operations in conjunction with Grestonian forces. The fleets near Waldenburg would also need to close in before the attack began. Hamilton simply stood, dismissed his advisors, and walked to his sleeping quarters. There would be nothing for him to do for several hours and something told him that once things began in earnest, he wouldn't have a lot of time to sleep, so he might as well get some rest in before it was too late.
Last edited by Oseato on Sat Jun 27, 2009 10:16 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Italia Orientale » Sun Jun 28, 2009 9:26 am

Location: RSS Paradise, Gulf of Sirte, Off the Coast of Italia Orientale
Time: 19:40

Prime Minister Francesco Cesare was quite troubled with the conflict that was going on in Greston. He considered Greston’s President Llywelyn Wilton Madoc to be a personal friend of his, and wanted to help him out. Also, with the election less than two weeks away, this would be an excellent opportunity to rile up some nationalistic pride and swing some votes his way. Either way, Greston was an important ally and needed help.

Cesare sat out on the Executive Yacht, the RSS Paradise, with the rest of his foreign policy team: Foreign Minister Muhammad Rossi, Minister of War Muhammad Ali Giuliani, Chairman of the Foreign Service Corps Davide Umbrp, and Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces Saladin Garibaldi. It was dusk, and they were anchored in the Gulf of Sirte dining on steak and rice, when the conversation turned serious.

“So what’s our best plan of action with this Greston conflict?” asked Cesare to his comrades.

“Unfortunately sir,” began Foreign Minister Rossi, “I think getting involved in the war is the only way to have any impact on the situation.”

Cesare chuckled as he turned towards the others, “well I guess if the pacifist among you is telling me to go to war, you guys will think the same thing.”

“Yes sir,” responded the Minister of War, “I don’t see any other options. We don’t have nearly enough influence and clout to influence events in Tyrrenhia diplomatically. The only way we can make a concrete contribution to helping Greston and the other allies is to involve ourselves militarily.”

Cesare nodded his head slowly and turned to Field Marshall Garibaldi, “you are of the same opinion Saladin?”

“Yes sir,” replied the old soldier, “you know I don’t like getting involved in wars that don’t really concern us, but I think in this case, war is the only way to help our ally.”

“Don’t forget sir,” Rossi chimed in, “this could certainly swing more than a few votes your way.”

“Only if it goes well,” responded Cesare.

“Not necessarily sir,” said Rossi, “the elections are less than two weeks away and I’m sure this situation will not be resolved before then.”

“Regardless,” Cesare said ignoring the last comment by his Foreign Minister, “I want this well planned, I want our ally to win. I’m not sending men to die for a few extra votes.”

“The military, along with the FSC, has been monitoring the situation since the beginning sir,” said Umbro, “and we have already come up with a contingency plan."

"It calls for sending the 5th Army and the 2nd Fleet to Greston to meet up with our allies’ military forces and coordinate operation from there," explained Garibaldi.

“Sounds good to me,” replied Cesare, “I’ll call President Madoc tonight and get his approval for our intervention.”

“I’ll call General Napoletano and Admiral Saddiq tonight and let them know they’re getting shipped out,” said Giuliani.

“So it’s settled,” said Cesare, “now let’s finish our dinner.” The conversation quickly turned to sports and the weekend’s soccer results. There would be plenty of time to think about military issues in the days to come.
Last edited by Italia Orientale on Sun Jun 28, 2009 9:27 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Vetalia » Tue Jun 30, 2009 4:33 pm

Vetalia City, Vetalia

"As of 12:00 am, a state of war formally exists between the Empire of Vetalia and Greston. The Praetor has authorized the full deployment of Vetalian troops, air and naval forces for the suppression of this threat to the Vorgothic Empire. Our government is fully committed to the ongoing support of Gholgothic forces and will actively fight against this grave threat to our peace and prosperity..."

"...Gholgothic forces in Vetalia, particularly those of Thrashia, are safe and will be fully supplied by the Vetalian armed forces for as long as is necessary...all ports are open to Gholgothic ships...a formal blockade against the belligerents is imposed for the duration of the conflict..."

...in addition, in accordance with the Constitution the government has formally authorized conscription as well as emergency powers for the Praetor, although the Ministry of Defense has not indicated any need for additional forces..."

The message droned on for another hour, touching on various topics related to the war effort and the need for renewed sacrifice in the face of external difficulty. The salient points were addressed immediately, however: The second war against Mediterranica had begun and would not stop until the Vorgothic Empire was preserved.

Northern Naval Command

Upon receiving the word of hostilities, the NNC of the Vetalian navy departed its holding position along the northern coast and set sail for the Petrenko Channel, a body of water separating the Levantian portion of Greston from the other islands. The goal was to intercept and interdict the Grestonian navy, cut off Levantian Greston and to open additional supply routes for the Gholgothic forces. This three-pronged goal was part of the grand strategy that sought to force open supply routes to Gholgothic forces, occupy Greston, and ensure that the entirety of Northern Mediterranica remained secure. Once this was achieved, it would only be a matter of time before Gholgoth arrived in force to end the conflict decisively.

Moving under cover of darkness, the exact number of ships was kept a close secret but any hostile observers would be able to easily determine a significant number of aircraft carriers, various capital ships, and the Command's six flagships, massive, modernized Davidson-class dreadnoughts that were a testament to the skill of Londinian engineering and Vetalian industrial might. Ahead of them swept the submarine forces, ready to intercept Grestonian shipping and to defend the fleet against enemy submarines. The goal was to reach the objective within three days, actively pursuing any hostile ships in the region and launching potential tactical strikes against shoreline targets. The other naval commands were placed in reserve and overwatch positions to ensure the Grestonian navy would be hard pressed to counterattack or inflict heavy losses on the advancing forces, especially since it would take at a minimum a month or two for the navy's additional ships to enter service.

Vetalian-Grestonian Border

On the border, the Vetalian army was making its preparations for an offensive but was kept in a defensive position awaiting the successful isolation of the region from Greston's supply lines. Artillery and armored units were monitoring the border while infantry and mechanized units dug in, awaiting the order to move. Behind the lines, supply dumps and communications hubs were developing and the sizable medical contingent was setting up operations along the line. Several marine divisions were in place along the coast, ready to move along the coastlines to secure and shutdown defenses, while special-operations teams prepared to infiltrate the country to cut supply lines and disrupt communications and infrastructure.

For now, however, despite the declaration it was quiet along the front, the cool breezes and clear, starlit skies of Western Vetalia strangely peaceful in the face of devastating war.
Economic Left/Right: 1.63
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: 2.05

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Crimmond
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Crimmond » Tue Jun 30, 2009 9:17 pm

North Atlantic

The CSS Empire rose and fell with the swells as if they were nothing. Standing on the bridge of the refitted Iowa class battleship was Empress Mobuto. This is where I belong... she thought, looking out at the endless ocean, spotting a destroyer and a cruiser ahead of her command ship. Out here, commanding a fleet. Making an impact. It wasn't that she resented being Empress... far from it. But the ocean was her home. She had spent decades on it, fighting ship to ship with pirate cartels.

"Highness?"

Being addressed shook Ursala from her thoughts. She turned towards the Captain, who was nearly a match for her years. "Yes, Captain?"

"We have confirmed contact with another Gothic fleet. It's the Draks."

Ursala considered the information for a moment and called up the mental image of the North Atlantic and all it's exit routes. "They're heading for the Passage, the same as us. Alright... we're still eight hours from forming up with the final pieces of our armada. Get the Drakonians on the horn."

===

It was less than ten minutes later that she had a video connection with the leader of the Drakonian fleet. "I'm Empress Ursala Mobuto." Most likely she needed no introduction as subordinates would have informed the Drakonian admiral of who she was. Still, she felt it necessary as her face was not well known yet. "We are moving to support the Meditterranican operations. We are still several hours from being ready to traverse the Northwest Passage, however. Still gathering up elements of our fleet. We will follow your forces through to Gholgoth's mainland. Whether we remain there or move on to Meditterranica depends on the situation as we approach Gothic territory."

===

After the conversation with the Drakonians, a message was sent to the Vetalians. It was simple and to the point, as would be expected for a nation that had past problems with the Vetalians.

The Empire of Crimmond may be interested in airfields inside your nation. Cargo, as well as bombers would be among the aircraft we would like to deploy. This will only be in the event of a protracted conflict with the rest of Meditterranica. I realize that our nations have had some difficulties, but you are an ally for the time being. And we do not double-cross allies, no matter what the circumstances. Just make sure you remain allies. Omar Pace may be long dead, but his promise of retribution still stands should you cross us.

-Empress Mobuto
Being More Awesome Than You Since March 26, 2003.

Third Founding Lord of Gholgoth

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Vetalia
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Vetalia » Tue Jun 30, 2009 11:35 pm

Upon receipt of the message from Crimmond, the Vetalian government immediately responded with a brief message, originally handwritten by the Praetor:

Our government has unanimously approved opening our country's bases and port facilities to all Gholgothic forces, including those of Crimmond. In accordance with our open policies towards the members of the Vorgothic Empire and Gholgoth, we will provide information through secure channels regarding the location and capacity of our facilities as it is needed. Legal and other ancillary documents officiating this decision are attached but are merely a formality. Our nation has long since learned the price of betrayal and we never intend to repeat that mistake.

Regards,
Praetor Anatoly Malikov
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Dephire
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Re: The First Impressions of June (Semi-Open)

Postby Dephire » Tue Jun 30, 2009 11:48 pm

Galva, Briska

As the sun crested on the high noon horizon, its light shone through many small slits along the Great Hall. Perched on a high throne that stood atop steps which rose twenty feet from the floor was Archerus Maximus Reynolds, leader of the Unholy Empire of Briska. To his left sat, in a noticeably smaller throne, his fiance, Rose. Archerus sat with his hands gripping the ends of his throne's armrests. His back was firmly against the cushion along the back of his seat. Above his head, a large golden dragon head set mounted against the wall. The head seemed to stare down the hall, keeping unwanted guests at watch. In front of the royal court kneeled five men in a V formation. At the point was the High General, Bourak.

"General Bourak, I want you to deploy our armada and alert our aerial battalions to be ready for a full invasion. It is time that we resurfaced from the shadows and spread the Darkness in which we live! Go now and do my bidding."

Bourak stood and bowed low to the ground in front of Archerus, "Yes, your Unholy Lordship, your bidding shall be fulfilled."

The long, drawn out wailing of raid sirens echoed throughout the crescent nation of Briska. Military personnel began scrambling across the military installations to assist in refueling and arming all available aircraft. In the same time period, men and women began to file out of their homes, ready for combat, and marched towards the bus stations. Upon arrival, they would then be shipped off to the port cities of Skivala, Varush, and Po. At the port cities, they would then board their ships. If they were not soldiers nor pilots, they were sailors. These sailors were forced to live at the port cities and thus began preparing them hours before the first buses filled with soldiers arrived. Every battle ship, cruiser, destroyer, and aircraft carrier was filled to their max with enough logistics to last for six months of combat, with several hundred cargo ships ready to ship supplies to those that need it. Within twelve hours of Archerus' command, several dozen reconnaissance aircraft were launched and flew towards the combat region (modified SR-71 Blackbirds) to keep an eye on Briska's allies. In addition, several hundred more aircraft (primarily SU-33 fighter jets and B-52 bombers) lifted off and headed towards the territory of Los Mexico.

It had been half an hour after Archerus gave his order when his Elite Guard walked into the Great hall and kneeled before him, "Command us, Archerus."

"Drekthar, rally together your men and be at the head of the fleet, aboard our flagship, Defiance. Bring our fleet to within combat range within two weeks."

"Lord, where shall we have the fleet strike?"

"Have the Imperial Armada strike first at Greston bombard their nation into submission. Set up a foothold and drive them out. Then use the land as a base of operations; setting up a fortress, defenses, and a port. When you have this set up, begin the full invasion of all hostile territories."

"Aye, sir." With the soldier's confirmation spoken, he left the hall. Within the hour, several hundred thousand soldiers of Archerus' Elite Guard boarded the ships to hold the helm of the armada.

Archerus relaxed his grip on the armrests and summoned for a phone to be brought to him with a direct line to Vetalia. When he spoke into the phone, his voice would be transferred into a text form for the Vetalian leadership to read:

"Hello Vetalia,
I come to you and ask for permission to land my aerial battalions in your lands for the purpose of refueling and rearming until my units can set up a foothold in our enemies' territories. I will gladly pay compensation for your help. They may arrive within 24-48 hours. Please reply soon. Thank you."
"My nation was forged by the blade of a sword and so it lives on through the sword." -Tristan Skragg, Emperor of Briska.

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