Namenian Civil War (IC; Ausozera nations only)

[Creatle]

Undisclosed Location

James stepped out of the vehicle into the lit compound of the airbase. It was early morning and was a bit cold. His security detail stood beside him as a man wearing a thick coat walked towards him. He wore a brown coat and had a peaked cap with a group of four men following close behind, presumably his security.

"Mr Gansz, It is good to meet you," James said as he stepped forward to shake his hand, "I am glad we can talk business"

"I am also happy to meet you," said Gansz in a cheerful mood, "I assume you have the money with you"

"Yes I do," said James, "I also assume you have the fighters unmarked, loaded, and ready to be shipped"

Gansz nodded, "If you would follow me, I will take you to the hanger, we can finish the deal there"

[Free Asian Ports]

Hochburg, DEN

Mushito grinned at Vladimir's question. "As it happens, I do. Pending an agreement to an alliance, we are willing to provide military assistance. ISAT is willing to accept the USSDEN into its fold. As we speak, several carrier battle groups from multiple ISAT nations are en route to the area to provide... overwhelming fire support. In addition, special forces soldiers will lend their expertise to the end of repelling the invaders and putting down the rebels. My associate will make a big show of being in negotiations for trade agreements, but this alliance will be decided between us right here right now. One word from you, and thousands of soldiers, aircraft, and warships will flock to your aid. Does that not sound enticing?"

Radar Outpost

"Roger sergeant, Javelin copies. Airstrike inbound, danger close. You might wanna keep your heads down, this is gonna be a big one" the pilot radioed before rolling the aircraft onto an attack vector. The EWO in the rear seat spotted the yellow smoke and directed the two aircraft towards the target. Bringing the aircraft around to be parallel with the enemy lines. As they dropped in speed and altitude, they dropped flares to distract and confuse enemy MANPADS. The two F-15Ks also had ECM active to prevent targeting by laser based SAMs. The fighters lined up their approach with the target and the EWOs carefully aimed the bombs. The two fighters dropped their loads and broke, dropping more flares as they frantically got away from the bomb zone to prevent being killed by their own munitions. Over 36,000 pounds of high-explosives, napalm, and cluster munitions dropped right onto the Creatle forces.

[Creatle]

"I love the smell of napalm in the morning. You know, one time we had a hill bombed, for 12 hours. When it was all over, I walked up. We didn't find one of 'em, not one stinkin' dink body." - Lieutenant Colonel Bill Kilgore

==========================================================================================================================
1.5 Kilometres from the Radar Station

Miller crouched down as he inspected the map, it was too risky to use the map so they had use the laser pointer on the rifle to point to specific parts of the map.

"Alright, so Gerald's squad is attacking from the north, Harrison's from the west, and us from the south," whispered Miller, "We need to be in position in less then 10 minutes so we gotta haul ass, but dont be stupid and make a shit ton of noise, we can wipe these bastards rig-"

At the moment the sound of jets approached, the squad held their breath as the aircraft flew past them, a moment later the ground shook and an explosion went off in the distance.

"What the fuck was that..." said Miller.

"All teams come in over, who was hit by that strike?" Miller called out over the radio. A few seconds passed by before the response came through.

"This is Gerald. We're all good here, hella of an explosion though"

"Harrison come in over," Miller called out on the radio, "Bravo 2-4, come in over"

Half a minute passed by...

"This is Bravo 2-4, sorry bout that, that strike hit about 500m away from us, no ones been hurt but we're gonna move a bit further south just to be safe. If it helps, I think that strike might have been called in from the other assault.

Miller turned the radio off, "Alright lets keep moving"

==========================================================================================================================
Reuss-Lippe City, Undisclosed Location

As the leaders of both countries formally closed the deal, they exchanged farewells before walking in separate directions. James Smith was escorted back to the car before getting inside. The deal went well, with Lippeans no longer a threat to the current war with DEN, and some improved relations along the way, James was in a rather happy mood, despite the current invasion that was taking longer then expected. The armoured convoy left the airbase, on its way back to the Presidential plane, stationed at the international airport.

==========================================================================================================================
Radar Station

Miller slowly pushed up the hill towards the radar station, he had given the other two teams the go ahead to begin the assault on the radar station, and with the enemy CAS on a return trip to rearm and refuel, they had just enough time to take and destroy the enemies long range radar station. They got within 100 meters before the first shots went out. They immediately returned fire and took cover behind what they could find. The combination of all three teams assaulting the compound at once was fairly overwhelming but the remaining garrison was holding out.

"Get some suppressing fire on that sandbag wall!" Screamed Miller as he broke out in a sprint towards a torn up tree. As he ran a few stray bullets flew by him as he dived behind the log. He peaked around the side of the log while lying down which gave him a good shot on the hostiles behind the sandbags, he took a few shots before taking cover as he took a hail of gunfire from another position suppressed him.

[Die Erworbenen Namen]

Radar Station, Grattenburg

"What the fuck is that..." The Light Machine Gunner asked, looking out into the distance. The napalm and explosions filled the air with thick, black smoke as it burned through the forest ahead of them. Craters from the explosives dotted the land, filling the field, and the forests, with shrapnel. Now, ahead of the slightly damaged bunker, was a shape, barely one hundred and fifty meters out, by his measure. It didn't make sense. How could anything have survived the attack? "Sergeant, I think we've got a contact."

"Where?" The Sergeant asked, pulling up his rangefinders and looking out into the distance. All he saw was smoke and flame.

"North, zero four five, 100 meters out." The gunner replied, looking down his sights. The sergeant turned to face the supposed contact and watched him. Almost immediately he swore.

"Tango, zero four five, 105 meters! Engage!" Sergeant Martin shouted, pulling up his rifle and taking a quick, aimed shot from his dual scope sight. He saw the man fall down, the bullet entering his chest and sending him to the ground with a crack. With the first shot sent flying, the rest of the squad began their suppression of the incoming enemy forces. One by one, more tangos appeared on the horizon, and the second onslaught began.

Sergeant Martin picked up his headset again, and dialed in the HQ channel with his finger.

"Outpost Harry to Grattenburg, we are in need of immediate fire support, 80 meters from our position. High explosive, fire for effect." Sergeant Martin ordered, looking through his scope again and firing off a round into the enemy lines.

"Outpost Harry, this is Grattenburg. Rounds inbound in 30 seconds. Out." The radio replied, crackling from the static. That was the first sign that something wasn't actually right. It struck him as odd, that something like this would be happening.

"Rounds incoming, boys! Hold out as long as possible!"

*****

Hochburg, DEN

Vladimir walked with him and listened with intent. He knew that he had to do something to help his ailing country, and as far as the suggestion sounded...

"What is required of me? This is incredibly inticing, and I have no doubt that my Emperor would be interested in this aid, but once again, I would love to learn what is indeed needed of me."

[Creatle]

Radar Station

The bullets cracked over his head as he screamed through his comms unit, "Bravo 2-4! Bravo 2-6! Keep moving towards the god damn outpost, we cannot allow them to hit us with the big guns! Use smoke for cover and make sure you keep moving!"
As he said this, he tossed a smoke grenade over the log, landing about 20 meters from the perimeter of the outpost. With the wind being as gentle as it was, it took a while for the smoke to generate a decent amount of cover, to which he then used as an opportunity to push up along with a majority of his team.

*THUD* *THUD* *THUD*

Even though the gunfire was deafening he could still here the unmistakable sound of artillery opening up and he immediately swore and dropped to the ground, "ARTILLERY INBOUND ON OUR POSITION!" He screamed into the comm unit, "TAKE COVER!"
He crawled forward as he let off a series of shots at what appeared to be an officer. Then the sound of the rounds falling from the sky pierced the sky as they came thundering in. The ground shook tremendously as the opposite side of the outpost had dirt thrown hundreds of meters into the air. The shaking eventually stopped as the last of the rounds came down and the gunfire took over again. He tossed some well placed grenades inside the stations perimeter, which were quickly followed by screams.

[hr]

[Free Asian Ports]

Seas West of Minsk

A junior officer entered the bridge of MKF Kaga and quickly made his way to the Captain's chair. Snapping a smart salute, he reported his orders. "<Sir! Priority message from GHQ. Flight operations are to begin as soon as convenient. All relevant encryption and confirmation has been verified. The orders are genuine.>" he told the Captain, as well as rest of the quiet bridge. The Captain returned the salute. "<At ease. Orders are confirmed.>" he said, coldly. While the junior officer left the bridge, he turned to his bridge crew. "<Number one, begin combat operations as according to our orders. All previous targets are now green. Spare nothing.>" he ordered. "<Aye, sir! Flight officer, begin flight operations! All hands to battle stations!>"

The action stations alarm went off throughout the ship, and simultaneously thousands of sailors, pilots, and Marines were in motion. Not just on Kaga. The attack order hit the whole carrier battle group simultaneously. The Cruisers and Destroyers now started official combat operations, scanning the skies for potential targets and preparing to deploy anti-submarine warfare equipment and helicopters. The Frigates took up a combat formation, forming a defensive perimeter around the core strike group. A pair of nuclear attack submarines was nowhere to be found, but distantly they slipped beneath the waves and prepared their combat patrols. But by far, the most activity was on the aircraft carriers that brought the "power" to "power projection".

Whole squadrons of aircraft waited on the decks of Kaga and her escorting light carrier MKF Hyūga, ready for the scramble orders that were now coming down. In particular, the planned combat operations called for dedicated air superiority fighters, multirole strike fighters, and airborne early warning aircraft. The collective force about to be deployed put the entire air arms of whole nations to shame. On Kaga, all four catapults were prepared for launch. A plane guard helicopter was already spun up, and deftly lifted off the deck. Ground crew and pilots in their dozens scrambled across the deck to waiting aircraft. F-44s and F/A-18s alike were selected and prepped. Hoses filled hungry gas tanks, while pilots made brief but professional walk-around checks to ensure all control surfaces were in full working order. One by one, aircraft that were fully prepared for takeoff started up their engines and taxied to wait for catapult launch. The entire process seemed like a jumbled mess from above. But in the thick of it, the crew worked like the finest Swiss watch. Precisely timed actions meshed together to complete every required action in rapid fire. Ground crew worked diligently to ensure that the aircraft were not only in peak flying condition but were prepared for operations in less than 30 minutes.

The first aircraft up to the bow catapults on Kaga were a pair of F-44s. The Nosferatu was a new fighter, easily 5th generation. Naval aviators bragged that the fighter could beat an Air Force F-22 in a dogfight. This claim is usually challenged, but it cannot be denied that the F-44 is a fine fighter, albeit expensive. Two such examples lined up to the catapults and the catapult crew secured the tow bar to the launcher. Blast deflectors raised and the ground crew made for sure everything was properly prepared. The catapult operator put tension on the catapult, jerking the fighter a little. At this, everything was ready. The catapult crew retreated and the shooter checked that everything was good. Once the catapult operator, crew, and the flight officer's approval were checked and confirmed, signalled to the pilot that all was ready. The pilot saw the signal and saluted and braced for launch. The shooter, now confident that everything was clear, dropped the flag. The pilot opened up the throttle and launch flaps. The catapult operator hit the launch trigger. The fighter thundered down the deck and was shot into the air, climbing once it was airborne. Steam billowed out of the catapult recess as it vented excess steam and returned to its original position. Seconds later, a second F-44 launched off of the other catapult.

Fighters weren't the only thing being launched. On the waist catapults, two E-2D Hawkeye AWACs aircraft prepped for launch. Their long wings rotated and unfolded while their turboprop engines idled. They launched in the same manner as the fighters but more elegantly made their way onto their patrol patterns. It was reported that a hole had opened in the Namenian air defense network, so it was their first job to fill it. While one E-2 would orbit over the fleet to ensure that the strike force would remain untroubled, the other would secure the area over Minsk, directing friendly and allied aircraft in place of a destroyed radar station. The Hawkeyes would not be left unprotected. The F-44s being launched would escort the E-2 being deployed to Minsk and establish air superiority. These fighters were from Yellow Squadron, veterans of the Naval Battle of Soraught, a number of whom had several kills under their belt. Fighter aces in sharp birds of prey made for daunting opponents. The AWACs would not be troubled.

Kaga wasn't alone in her air operations. Hyūga was also launching several flights of aircraft. These were F/A-18E Super Hornets, world famous strike fighters with a penchant for accuracy and payload along with impressive multirole capability. They launched with their own loads of precision guided bombs and napalm, intended to destroy formations of ground troops and anti-aircraft units. EA-18 Growlers provided additional electronic warfare support, while a pair of EA-3s were to perform ELINT operations and serve as aerial refueling tankers. Overall, more than a dozen aircraft were launched in the first wave. More would follow. The air war over DEN had just begun.



Hocburg, DEN

"You need only tie DEN's fate to ISAT. Join our alliance. You have the power to make that decision, yes? It shouldn't be a difficult one, deeper negotiations can come later. For now, a verbal agreement is all that is required" answered Mushito.

[Camaalbakrius]

Near Radar Station

As a group of three helicopters flew over the open landscape, officers were barking orders to soldiers, all sitting in order, waiting to be deployed. Captain Roger Heimmler was among the senior ranking officers in the landing squad. He adressed his team, numbering about 45 total, 15 per helicopter, over radio communications.

"Alright men. Our objective is simple. There is a radio tower not too far from here which is currently being held by DEN's forces, but is under heavy fire and is being assaulted as we speak. Our mission is to get in there and take that station. Until we can get air support, you will be on your own. Any questions?"

Silence from the soldiers followed, and Heimmler said "Good. We're approaching the radar station now. We wont have much time to deploy, so when we land, you all get out as quickly as possible, or else these helis are sitting ducks. Understood?"

"Yes Sir!" Was shouted in unison by the eager soldiers awaiting deployment. They didn't know the war that was waiting for them ahead, but they were confident they could take on anything.

Heimmler adressed the teams once more: "Do we have all of our equipment accounted for? Anti-tank weapons, sufficient ammunition?" The other choppers called in, saying "All equipment present and accounted for."

Soon the radar station was in sight. They saw the Creatle forces surrounding the station and landed behind Creatle's forces for maximum safety. When they landed, the men got out as quickly as possible, weapons and equipment in hand, ready to take on the next objective. Heimmler got out and signaled for the pilots to go.

[Creatle]

-Message Deleted-

[Saradena]

Novayan/DEN Border

"I'm hit. Taking Triple A fire, requesting assist-"
The Tornado ECR takes multiple AAA hits before a missile impacts the aircraft, killing the pilot before he can even eject. A few of the other attack aircraft suffered the same fate, with them failing to outmaneuver the missiles until it was too late. Fortunately, the other downed aircraft pilots managed to avoid the same fate by ejecting in time. As the pilots reach the ground, they flee towards friendly lines before Namenian search parties arrive.

The surviving aircraft fly back towards their base as fast as they could to prevent getting pursued by Namenian fighters, they soon inform the airbase over the failure of the strike. The airbase was now on full alert, as all aircraft were prepared for sortie should they be called in again, they were ordered to be refueled and rearmed, crew were ordered to quickly assess their aircraft if they were airworthy and pilots were to be seated so that they would be launched quicker. The base's security was heavily bolstered, as defense systems have been fully online and are prepared to engage any Namenian attack should they arrive at the base.

---

Acrus, Novayan/DEN Border

As Acrus was slowly evacuated and with troops preparing their defensive perimeters as they await reinforcements, a Novayan artillery unit arrives from a nearby base, responding quickly to the threat. With five M270s at their disposal, they now have means to enact a counter-barrage on the Namenian aggressors.
"Finally. The heavy guns are here" says another soldier as the MLRSs were moving towards the maximum range of their rockets, the location of the enemy being relayed from command centers and from aircraft, checking the coordinates and their ammunition to see if everything's set. They drive up towards the outskirts of the city so they could be in minimal range of the target, protecting them were ATGM-Mounted IFVs and Anti-Air teams, they stop and set up over a hill, where they could have a near-good view of the Novayan-Namenian border; it was the best vantage point they could find around the area.

The Anti-Air teams prepare their MANPADS, along with a Flakpanzer Gepard supporting the AA, preparing to mow down any fighters or helicopters that might come in their way, ATGM vehicles position themselves on the edges of the hill where they could destroy any tank below them. After about 25-30 minutes of preparation, communications check, and final words, the MLRS systems were now ready to commence a heavy barrage.
"3...2....1....FIRE!" The artillery commander finally gives the order to attack. Almost immediately, the M270s fire their heavy rockets towards the target at full force.

"Miller-1, commencing barrage!"
"Miller-2, commencing barrage!"
"Miller-3, commencing barrage!"
"Miller-4, firing rockets!"
"Miller-5, firing rocket barrage!"

The ground crew stood as the vehicles fired as their missiles streaked across the sky and towards where the enemy was in, and only stopped once they have expanded their ammunition. After the barrage, they just hoped that those rockets had destroyed all or at least many Namenian forces and would not retaliate further.

---

EIS Headquarters, Somewhere in Eldrichta

---

"The Porteans are making their moves at Minsk."
"Estimated time till they're both in standoff range?"
"Around er....5 minutes.."
"And the Arks?"
"Recent photos show their fleet setting course towards Namenian waters. At best they'd arrive around a week or several days."
"Chances of the Creatans actually managing to pull of a successful incursion on DEN?"
"Slim, and once the Arkanans arrive at DEN, nil."

Two employees engage in conversation as they watch the large monitors in front of them, observing live satellite footage and gathered information from the ground and in the sea. Most of them were focused on the area around Minsk, Gratenburg, and the Novayan-Namenian border, where heavy fighting has been reported. The monitor broadcasts high-definition satellite imagery and 30-seconds of live satellite footage , along with communications coming from unencrypted comms signals feeding from the multiple satellites keeping eye on the country, where they are constantly updated every minute whenever they orbit around the country again. Agents work around-the-clock so they would have a clear picture of the situation in DEN. It's a tedious task, but to the employees, it was just another day in the office.

"Same as always, Irina?"
"Well, not really. the Namenians seems to have it under control, it seems. Especially with the Ports on their side, along with some other few nations that we have to identify. They're even launching an attack onto Novaya, it's a possible invasion too."
"Seems that they'd wrap this up before the months end, I guess."
"Yeah....At least our guys aren't joining in there..there's still Donner we have to deal with."
"Right....speaking of which, you heard that the Ports have revived ISAT?"
"Yeah, the Porteans arrived here last week to announce it to us and offered to have us there, President Erhard turned them down. Quite the shocker, isn't it?"
"An ironic one too. Seems he's been listening to popular opinions, I guess...at least we don't have to get involved much anymore, we can finally catch a break a bit for now."
"Right. Anyway, I'll get back to work."
"Yeah, see ya."

[Creatle]

UCN Vance Command Center, Near Minsk

"Incoming orders from NORTHCOM sir," saluted Amanda Keetly, "Orders are to proceed with Operation Red Star, we cannot wait any longer"

Lawrence Christian paused for a moment, "Alright I want the rest of the fleet on high alert and all available planes in the air, I dont want to be caught with our defences down"

The officer moved back to her station which was followed shortly by the flashing red light and sirens, "All crew report to your battle stations, pilots report to flight deck immediately, this is not a drill, all crew report to your designated stations"

The intercom was barely audible over the blaring alarms and flashing red lights as the entire ship went into overload getting the jets set for launch. A fleet wide warning had been issued after the LRR had detected dozens of radar contacts appearing at once. Six of the C-35's were already set to launch from the UCN Vance, with another 4 on the UCN Isaac and UCN Hemingway were already set on the catapult. Two C-35's began a short roll towards the catapult from where the plane was hooked onto the tow by two catapult operators. After the catapult had been fully set, the pilot saluted, opened the throttle to full and the catapult launcher hit the release. The jet accelerated tremendously as it sped down the deck, and within seconds it was airborne and climbing to join the current defensive orbit around the battle-fleet.

Meanwhile the escorting destroyers and cruisers began defensive measures and began expanding the fleet formation, giving roughly 300m distance from each ship to allow a strong point in the center of the fleet based around the carriers. As the remaining fighters are launched off the carriers and the defensive 'tornado' like pattern is formed around the fleet, the transports begin preparations for their amphibious landing of Minsk, the only thing in the way now was the carrier battle-fleet straight in the location of attack.

---

Radar Station, Near Minsk

The gunfire had died down as both sides dug into their positions, the artillery strike had wiped out almost 95% of Bravo 2-4, with the other 5% being wounded. They were now to close to the outpost itself for the enemy to call in any sort of fire support without risking their own safety. In the aftermath of the first 15 minutes, about 11 soldiers were killed, with another 5 wounded on the attacking side.

"We cant stay here," Miller said over the comms, "Sgt. Gerald, we're falling back, we're gonna get wiped out if we keep trying, we gotta get out of here"

"Affirmative, We're pushing back, we'll cover you once we get to the forest"

"Roger. Keep as spaced out as possible, they will probably try to hit us with their artillery or CAS, so spread the fuck out once you get into the forest. We will regroup at the farmhouse due SE of here, now get moving"

As he said this, Miller's squad immediately began supressing the enemy position inside the compound and with luck, they wouldn't dare poke their heads out to see the retreat.

[Krossa]

9th Infantry Company, Vesistelij, the 'Banshees'

The convoy of BTR-80's traveled along a strip of road, speeding up until they had to travel off-road. Ever since briefing there had been a bone-chilling silence among the 9th Infantry Company, with only cries of help from Outpost Harry.

"Harry is fucked,"A Vesistelij combat engineer clinched his fist into the air, stretching his sore muscles.

"I agree,"A corpsman working with the marines spoke above the engines. There were gas masks under the seats aswell as the backpacks and, in every one seat per row a radio. "Its awfully quiet on the radio,"The corpsman, 20 year old Rujiveenak 'Rusty' Meeka continued.

The engineer began to reply but a loud report from the Outpost Harry itself came through the engineer's seat radio. He pulled it closer, listening.

Casualties. Lots of casualties. Oncoming troops, quite a few...

The voice was collective and calm. The BTR-80 rumbled off a bit, going off road.

Soon the BTR-80 regained its balance and the squad inside the BTR exchanged glances. "They really need us,"Rusty bit his lip after saying this.

"No shit..."The squads designated marksman frowned. Named Erik Yorrmsi he, like many others, was new to combat. Well trained and fresh out the 4 month Infantry-Marksman Setup-School he had made friends with some, enemies with others among his ranks. A very headstrong warrior to say the least.

"So, anyone afraid of making history?"The squad leader slumped forward from his seat after getting some rest. No one answered. "Good."

"Im afraid of what MRE's I may of accidentally packed,"The combat engineer, Robert Maatvi, chuckled. "Vegan meals are shit."

Outpost Harry, 9th Infantry

"Holy shit..."The gunner of the squad's BTR-80 muttered as he peered at Outpost Harry. "This is no fucking joke!"

The words echoed down to the squad, named Kilo squad, came to a stop in the treeline. Kilo squad piled out, the radio operator kneeling down and examining the situation. He checked his radio several times, and came to the conclusion it was still up. For now.

Rusty hurried up to the outpost. His squad had split up, fixing up a makeshift location in the treeline for the radio operator to keep comms up. "Holy shit,"Rusty couldn't help but curse at the sight of the outpost.

Being a corpsman he rushed near the sight of a wounded infantry soldier, obviously hurt from the way he was holding his arm up and shooting. Rusty pulled the man back and talked him out of fighting for the next minute. He could hear the AHS Krab's move far away to fire their howitzer shells. He finished cleaning the wound, which turned out to be a large and deep scrape into the soldiers elbow. It wasn't big, but anything that could keep a man shooting accurately would work.

The two Krab's fired off into the distance, the rounds sailing past his vision and hurling towards the coast. It was as if the explosion had occurred real close to him. He stumbled a bit as a puff of dust drifted past carrying a warm breath of heat along with it. "Friendly!?" A man called.

A man in a bandanna rushed over and examined the area close to the blast. No one had been wounded badly as far as he could see,"Negative!"He called back to the questioning soldier. On the way back he tapped the stunned corpsman on the shoulder, waking him back up.

This was counter battery from the enemy. The Mi-8's that carried the rest of the 9th Inf Company arrived, escorted by two other helicopters.



The helicopters did a turn, however two remained. The two, Mi-35 anti-ground helicopters, began heading in a diagonal line opposite of the Mi-8s. The Mi-8's had safely dropped their infantry off and pulled out, not able to pick up any wounded. Not yet, the battle had just began.

Rusty pulled his Ak-74U out and looked around the corner, moving up and examining the corpse of a dead friendly. His arm had nearly been blown off. Rusty turned away, no need to see the body anymore. He lowered himself and rushed forward a bit to a few other soldiers, staying nearby and providing supporting fire ahead. At this point, a few mortar rounds from one of the combat engineer made positions could be heard screaming above.

At this point, Rusty treated a marine with a shrapnel impact in his forehead. He rushed back to where the 9th Infantry Companies defense had started, the BTR-80's. In one he found two heavily wounded individuals. The BTR-80's driver and a infantryman were applying first aid to both. These two were not Krossan, and both suffered a variety of wounds. One had a bullet lodged in his stomach and and a punctured lung suffered by a shrapnel attack.

Rusty turned and saw one of the BTR-80's moving up and providing fire support to the front of the base. Rusty only had time to work on one before moving back out into the open.

Boom.

This blast knocked the wind off of Rusty. He struggled to get up, and when he did he lowered his head, expecting another round to come. It did, but not at him. At a BTR.

He limped over and saw the BTR slowly collapse in, a gaping whole where the vehicle's crew would be in. He ran over and saw a unconscious Krossan marine. His gloved fingers stained with blood from his comrades arm as he managed to pull him free.

The Mi-35's began making their return, smoke funneling from the engine of one. It was louder than the other, a detail Rusty could make out among the chaos. Two BTR-80's trailed past, moving to a safer sight. A pain rippled through his ears as the final BTR passed by. He moved forward, taking cover behind a few barrels up front. A man armed with a PKP Pecheng lit up a set of tree's on the horizon, bullets creating a ring as they ricocheted off the barrels.

The BTR-80's fired their respective arsenal of weaponry at the enemy. A enemy anti-tank rocket drifted off course and hit a tree. Rusty studied the sight of where it impacted, but no one was close enough to seek immediate help.

Various columns of smoke rose from the ground, joining those from earlier shots. Rusty ducked and a shot knocked the light machine gunner off his feet. He collapsed to the ground and a artillery strike vaporized the quickly made position about 35 meters ahead. The 10 soldiers there were all dead in a second. Rusty hauled the light machine gunner up and into the trees.

Outpost Harry, 10 minutes later

One of the BTR's up front had been hit by a anti tank strike to the hull, however the vehicle could still limp itself into a corner and fire at any man who poked his head up inaccurately. It was worth a try though. Anything was to defend this position.

"How long is this hell?"A marine coughed a bit, adjusting his helmet before reloading his Vo-33 assault rifle. He peered down the iron sight and fired down at a few flashes of black. As he withdrew his gaze from the ironsight he could see a small plume of smoke rising, a blast from one of the friendly Howitzers. Both were still up and running, however could be taking out any second.

The marine waved smoke from past blasts away from his mouth and face, switching positions to a safer area.


(Was really tired, please excuse any errors)

[Nauchrtenfield]

A long convoy had approached the city of Grattenburg, not on the roads for the most part. The civilians need for evacuation took precedence. Instead a long line of military vehicles; four-hundred-and-twentyeight of them in total, made it's way besides the roads and highways. Towards the many million still trapped in the city and its suburbs. In the front of the convoy was the tanks, mighty as they were with the large bore 140mm main gun, and the parallel mounted 40mm making it even more impressive, finally the Schützegaftmashikegewhär 1904/10 mounted on the top in a RWS. This was the 111st Armoured Battalion. Behind the line of tanks came another unit, a line of Kampfvagn 401 and Gebandzet Fordotzet, amongst other types; 598 was printed with black letters on the hulls, denoting the vehicles alliance; 598th Mechanised Guard Battalion, the lead unit for NAUCHNARMCOM. Lastly where the powerful 155mm guns of the 21st Artillery Support Battalion. With it's Bandwaffenvagn 2's. ready to saturate whatever they might need with HE shells.

Once they entered the city proper the logistical unit and the entire 21st diverted away, they had been ordered to set up camp in an advantageous position. Where they could spread out, camouflage themselves and wait safe from harm. But to be on the safe side the HÖK-44 and UndE23, camouflaged themselves. the radar able to feed targeting info both to the HÖK, LuftKapfvagn 401, and the Bandwaffenwagn 2. The latter assuming that it had the necessary data from the UAV units, or similar. The UAV unit also set up shop, and soon 32 small drones took flight, spreading out and searching for targets, and giving the Nauchrten troops a better picture of the area.

The remaining troops, lead by the commander of the 598th, whom also carried Operational Command for NAUCHNARMCOM; a Colonel Peter Sandstöm. Moved deeper into the city, units breaking off as they got closer to the command center for the Narmenian forces, towards the designated zones they had been ordered to hold and defend. As the HQ company of the 598th got closer to the command center, the Colonel called in on the radio, requesting to speak in person with the commander of the defences.

[Die Erworbenen Namen]

Outpost Harry, Grattenburg
DEN

The eleven remaining squad members could not believe their eyes or ears. Although they knew that they had not won, they finally felt actual hope in getting out of there alive. Allied Krossan BTRs, laden with troops and arms of all sorts, had appeared behind the outpost and were advancing to hold the line at all costs alongside them. Sergeant Martin, a toughened, experienced veteran and soldier, could not contain his excitement. While his comrades in arms shouted out joyous cries, vicious insults and taunts, he had only managed a smile, proud that his men could find something good to see. But now, dozens of soldiers were pouring in as reinforcements, and although one BTR had already gone down, that would do nothing to dampen their spirits.

"Dlya imperatora! Burn those sons of bitches, Comrades!" Sergeant Martin shouted out with delight, bringing his fist into the air in a victorious punch. His cry of comradeship was met with a shout, and a loud cry of 'Dyla Imperatora!', and the roar of their guns spitting defiance at those who dared to challenge the United Socialist States.

"Comrades! Our reinforcements are here! Hold this outpost at all costs! Not one step back, comrades!" Sergeant Martin shouted as he stood up from his kneeling position, holding the pistol grip of his rifle and looking around. "Medic! Get our allies acquainted with our wounded!"

"Sergeant! We've got a man on the radio requesting your response! A Colonel Sandstöm!" The radioman reported to the Sergeant, holding up the headset.

"Colonel, this is Sergeant Martin of the United Socialist States Imperial Army Corps. I am not in charge. I am the commanding NCO in charge of Outpost Harry. The Defense Commander is Commissar General Kelly, Sir!"

[Nauchrtenfield]

Grattenburg, DEN
Colonel Peter Sandstöm

---

Peter waited with baited breath as his radio operator sent out the call to speak to the commander of the city, he did not get that, but the person in charge of Outpost Harry, just outside the city. It would do, he thought as the RTO sent the transmission over to the Colonel, allowing him to speak. "Greetings, Sergeant Martin. Colonel Peter Sandstöm Nauchrtenfield Ground Forces. Commander of NAUCHNARMCOM. Our orders are to assist in holding the city until it has been evacuated. I have thirty-two artillery pieces ready to fire." he said, thinking for a split second. He had heard over the radio, and knew that Outpost Harry had been under attack, it was somewhat of a miracle that they had held the line. He knew that A company had not received any orders, nor had 4th Platoon, C company, out of the 111st. He kept on speaking, the pause had been short, and he had never let go of the button, so he did not even think the Sergeant had noticed it. "I also have limited armour and mech reinforcement to give you, if needed. Over?" he said, and waited for a reply that came quickly, Martin accepted the reinforcements, so it would be so.

"Copy that Sergeant Martin, reinforcements on the way. Out" he said. switching to section comms he spoke "RTO, Get five-nine-eight A comp and one-one-one C comp fourth moving to Outpost Harry. Get the medics setup somewhere, we are gonna need some echelon two to care for the wounded. Get support comp set up as well. And get me eyes over OH^(Oh-eych)." he commanded, and he heard in his headset how the RTO, sitting closest to the turret in the Kapfvagn relied in the positive over comms, before setting to work executing the commands.

From the outside the Colonel heard as a myriad of tracked vehicles passed him, on their way towards Outpost Harry no doubt.

---

In the sky above Outpost Harry two small briefcase sized objects flew at around two hundred meters, painted white-gray they were hard to spot, but there they were, UVA's, watching, feeding data back the the 21st, whom sent it to both the 598th, and 111st. the cameras scanning and watching several spectrums to make sure no detail was left unwatched.

At the same time at high speed approaching the outpost was a larger collection of vehicles, twenty seven of them to be exact. the approach was eventless enough, the fighting was not as intense, for now, and was battling was taking place took place by the very vicinity of the bunker. The tanks stopped around a hundred meters from the outpost, the large turret looking for targets. They stood in a inverted V formation, with two tanks somewhat behind the other two. If one payed attention to the tank furthest to the left they would see a small black, blue, and white bundle go up one of the secondary antennas. A small flag, no bigger than 30x30 cm, driven up the secondary antenna with the help of a small motor, a interesting piece of standard kit on all Nauchrten tanks. A remain from the day of sword, saber and horse. Then they spread out, creeping towards the outpost, eliminating what threats they could with either the .50 in the RWS, or the 40mm autocannon. Nothing for now was threatening enough to deserve treatment from the 140mm main gun.

The infantry spared no time, but drove forward, the infantry dismounting out quickly, linking up with the allies already on the sight, and started to dig in. the supporting vehicles remained on a safe distance. All the while the command unit mounted in a Gebandzet Fordotzet drove up, before dismounting and heading for the command bunker. Leading that squad was the leader of the 598th company, Captain Jozef Playts. As he and his nine squadmates made for the bunker he spoke into the company comms, a single sentence, but it carried much meaning to himself, his men, and the nation as a whole; "Vernichtung dez Fienderz". This also meant that no matter who tried to take this small bunker, would first have to walk over two hundred and forty dead Nauchrteners.

[Creatle]

"An army marches on its stomach" - Napoleon Bonaparte

Forest Near Outpost, Gratenburg

Sgt. Miller studied his map with his low light flashlight, he carefully calculated his position from what seemed like landmarks but were really small clearings in the forest. The remaining attacking force was scattered among the forest. The attack was a massive failure, yet they were unaware that the radar had been disabled during the lengthy firefight. But they now had neither the manpower nor the will to attack it once again. And with perusing enemy, with the likely chance of reinforcements, they didn't dare stop for more then 5 minutes. As Miller approached the RV point, he noticed a lot of movement around the building, he rose his gun in anticipation, while simultaneously trying to be quiet as possible which was almost impossible with every step caused a twig or pile of leaves to snap and crunch. As he got within hearing distance he could hear them talking. They weren't friendly, and from the other sounds of both grunting and painful moans, he assumed they found some of his men. He cautiously peaked over a large bush to get a clearer picture.

The RV had a single red chem-light and a few bags of equipment placed around it, one friendly soldier lay motionless, while two others were kneeling, wounded, under duress from the Namen soldiers. There were only two and one was on the radio, possible reporting their position and discovery, while the other was knocking the shit out of one of them with the butt of his rifle.

"Where the fuck are the rest of your men," yelled one of the soldiers as he grabbed his knife from its holster and pushed it to one of their necks, "I wont ask you again, either you tell me where the fuck they are, or I will gut this man like a pig" he threatened as he pushed the knife closer to the man's skin.

"Don't say a fucking thing. These cock-sucking wankers can meet me in he-" the soldiers sentence was cut short as the namen knocked him unconscious with the butt of the knife, it was a hard hit, and with limited time available he had to act fast.

"I can do this all night," said the soldier with the knife as he punched the prisoner in the face, "You either tell us right now where the rest of your forces are or you'll end up like your friend"

A few tense seconds passed by, before the soldier spoke up, "Fuck....You"

Aware that the next few seconds would be precious, Miller took aim and fired at the man with the knife.

Miller swore as the soldier dropped onto the ground dazed from the ricochet and the sudden turn of events, he started rolling towards the house, as a means of cover, but while the soldier fell back, miller took another three shots, one of which struck him right in his left thigh. The soldier screamed out in agony as he continued his now slower retreat towards the house. Miller took another shot that hit the man in his left upper arm and at this point he had stopped moving, most likely the round either hit an artery or caused so much pain he passed out. Miller waited for 10 seconds, to make sure the man wasn't getting back up. As he approached the prisoner, all while keeping his eyes on the soldier he shot, he crouched down beside him, before picking the knife off the ground and using it to cut the ropes around his arms and legs before taking off the blindfold. The man's face was a complete mess, he had a massive cut across his cheek and lip, along with a potentially broken nose and bruised left eye.

"Can you walk?" Questioned Miller, "Are you ok to walk?"

"Y-Yes," Replied the soldier in a stunned state, "Did that really just happen?"

Miller deliberately ignored the question as he walked over to the soldier who could still be alive, before aiming his pistol and firing two rounds at his head and chest to confirm the kill. He then took one of the grenades strapped to the mans chest, pulled the pin and made sure the safety trigger was still connected as he carefully placed it under the body. The idea was, that the two soldiers would have reported back to their CO, and when they arrived, when they went to check the bodies, they would be hit by the grenade. He grabbed a spare pare of NV goggles off the soldier he shot in the neck, while grabbing a pistol off the dead Creatan soldier. He had to attach the goggles to the wounded prisoner and handed him the gun afterwards.

"Try not to draw attention, safety's off, let me know if you see something I dont," Miller said as he picked the prisoner up and assisted him for a brief walk back to the safety of the forest. Hopefully they would be long gone by the time the bodies were discovered.

UCN Sanctuary, Amphibious Assault Ship, Vehicle Deck

The vehicle deck was alive with action as over 48 Marines prepared for launch, they were being sent in to provide recon on all the beaches at Minsk, to give the main landing force a better understanding on what to expect. Among those was Sierra 2 - 1, led by First Sergeant Jeremy O'Sullivan. The squad of 6 all stepped inside the Assault Rib, that was loaded with equipment required for the mission. As the team all sat down inside
the black, rubber boat, a voice popped up over the ships intercom, "All crew, standby for launch, Vehicle Bay Door is opening, assure that all doors are secured. The room blacked out as the doors opened, at first there was a spray as the water flew in through the small gap, but as it expanded the wind blew through, making it feel even colder then it already was. The water rushed in as soon as the door had fully opened and the bay filled with water, after about 30 seconds a red light came on, followed by a warning horn as the boats were dropped from their position, in union they accelerated out of the bay and into the dark, windy night. The boats had a top speed of 50kph in steady conditions, but the wind had caused much larger waves to form, and this effectively prevented them from reaching their maximum efficiency. They had at least an hours ride ahead before the next stage, which involved shutting the motor off and using paddles to quietly bring the boats assure. But they stayed quiet as the boats pushed on.

[The United Remnants of America]

CPD Task Unit 4

---

Grattenburg, DEN

---

XX/X/20XX - 15:12

---

The lead battalions had finally reached the suburbs of the city and were moving slowly. Some of the tank crews noted it looked almost abandoned. As the three lead armor battalions moved in, the three mechanized battalions moved into the suburbs afterwards. Moving in from the south had its advantages in that there didn't seem to be anyone else around, as the fighting seemed to be taking place on the coast and in the north of the city. The southern suburbs could probably be secured rather quickly.

The first APC of the mechanized battalion stopped as tanks and APCs sped past, allowing the infantry and Captain Boundie to dismount. The Torian-skinned ex-Army Remnant captain raised a radio to his mouth, "Captain Boundie to other commanders. Lead elements have entered Grattenburg's suburbs and are beginning to secure."

"Copy, Boundie. This is Surry. Infantry trucks are moving as well, and I've gotten responses from the battalion commanders further back that the SAMs and trailing units are following as normal with no issues. All seems safe on the ground."

"Roger. Greg? How's the airships?"

Passing overhead a kilometer apart from each other, the trio of airships floated into place over southern Grattenburg, Greg Farhammer responded, "Nothing much, but I'm about to broadcast on the Namenian command channel, hang on."

In the lead airship, Farhammer spoke clearly and calmly, "Namenian Military Command of Grattenburg, this is Commander Greg Farhammer of CPD Task Unit 4. We have reached the southern suburbs of Grattenburg and request an update on where our forces are needed. We have fast-attack infantry units that can be deployed and in a few hours we will have a SAM network up in the suburbs. We have mechanized infantry and armor to support you. Over."

The URA's military support had arrived to Grattenburg.

---

CPD Task Unit 4 Fleet

---

Minsk Harbor, DEN

---

XX/X/20XX - 15:36

---

Adam Danielsen had decided it was time to go. He'd been getting reports of various ships moving into and around Minsk. The ship crews had been called back on-board the twelve-ship fleet and they'd all been fired up just in case things went south. Four amphibious assault ships had already moved away from the harbor and stood watch while the three hospital ships had started maneuvering to leave the harbor. The five remaining amphibious assault ships were either sitting at the harbor or moving with the hospital ships to keep the larger mostly unarmed vessels safe since more foreign ships were crowding the waters around Minsk. The sixteen LCAC's hadn't loaded up and were instead covering the retreat since they could move the fastest due to their small size and relatively under-powered armament.

A young Remnant radar officer approached Danielsen, "Sir. We're getting some reports from the Amphib radar teams since our radars here are kind of shit. Apparently there's aircraft incoming, but we can't really tell what they are or how many. Also, those fleets from Creatle and the Porteans started what looks like combat maneuvers, and now they've kind of blocked our path. We... May have to go through them."

Adam Danielsen sighed, "Shit. You're now my messenger. On your way back to station, stop in the Comms room and tell them to report this to Greg. I want you to also send a message to the fleet for us to get away from the docks fucking quick. Maybe the Creatle fleet will let us through. If not.. We're lightly armed. Have the amphibs Load up the LCACs once we're out of the harbor so we don't leave any of them behind. Two to a ship so we have an empty well in case we need it."

"Yes, sir." The radar officer jogged off to get the message out. The comms room happened to be decently far away on the outdated hospital ship.

Danielsen looked over the map before him. If the Porteans and the fleet from Creatle was in his way, he assumed they weren't friendly. His fleet would move towards them until hailed. Who knows? Maybe they'd let his ships through. Adam wasn't a naval officer, so he hoped this was the right course of action. If worse came to worst, he could try getting Namenian air support or naval support, and if he couldn't do that, then he could contact Greg and ask for a couple dropships to get tasked to him. It was something, at least.

They were within radar distance, so it was only a matter of time until they were noticed by either surface group.

[Camaalbakrius]

Near Grattenburg

Heimmler and his men had all gotten out of the Helicopters safely and the helis flew out of the battle zone and back towards the small fleet outside of the soon-to-be battle zone between the Portean and Creatle fleets. On the ground, Heimmler ordered his men to stay low and move towards the city, since the radar station was no longer under siege. He said to them "Alright men, stay low and spread out, avoid artillery fire and move towards Grattenburg, we'll reform with the Creatle forces there." The men obeyed and they spread out through the paths and headed towards the city.

Heimmler took fifteen of his men with him, and the other thirty went in groups of five each. He took them through the forests and followed the Creatle force's retreat to Grattenburg. The sound of artillery boomed in the distance, and shells landed persistently around them. One managed to land about 50 yards from to the group, and the shockwave sent them all to the ground. Heimmler got up and said "Everyone ok?!" A soldier responded, saying: "We have a man down! Three more wounded!" Heimmler swore to himself and said "Get the wounded and keep moving, if we stay we're sitting ducks!" The men moved forth, only 11 unscathed, and marched quickly towards Grattenburg.

[Creatle]

"Rendezvous With Destiny" - Motto of the 101st Airborne

Gratenburg, Location Unknown, Near Radar Station

At his point Miller was effectively carrying the man by himself, the injured soldier was barely conscious as they continued through the dense forest. It was still extremely dark and Miller had assumed the sun would rise soon on the account that they had been fighting for almost two hours, but the forest was too dense to even see the sky. Eventually Miller had to put the soldier down to take a breather, his legs were weak from hauling him for almost 5 kilometres up a gentle hill, and he had no real bearing on his direction, which was the next step. He opened his map and compass before turning on his low illumination light, as he tried to find his position the wounded soldier spoke up.

"Do you think any of this was worth it?" he asked in a pained voice, "I mean, this whole fucking war, how the fuck did it come to this?"

Miller takes a minute to digest what he was listening to, "No. No I dont think it was worth it, but we have to be ready to fight when the time comes"

The injured soldier made an attempt at a chuckle that broke into a coughing fit, "That's some patriotic bullshit if I've heard some," He said in a rather unusual joyful manner, "that's the last fucking time im voting that shithead as president, Peace and Prosperity my arse"

Miller deliberately ignored the remark against his leader, it wasn't James fault for the whole war, it was the bloody defence committee and their bullshit influence over the political leaders, he had a rough idea where he was and folded the map up and packed it back inside his vest along with the light and compass.

"Where you from anyway? Your voice doesn't sound like one from Creatle"

"Grew up in Manchover, parents and myself moved over to Vance Heights for a work assignment that lasted 15 years," he said in a rather emotionless voice, "Received military training there before I moved back to Manchover. I was moved into the special forces division where I got sent to the 101st Airborne. Great fucking division till you actually have to fight"

"Amen to that," The soldier broke into another raspy cough, coughing up a small amount of blood, "Isn't the URA against us? I mean, we know they were helping the socialist scumbags out with the rebels, but does that mean they're willing to fight in a war?"

"I dont know," Miller said, taking off the dirty bandages around the soldiers head, "This world is a fucked up place, and we cant be sure of anything anymore, one day your letting the press know of a declaration of friendship, and the next your trying to strangle each other to death."

"I cant keep walking" the soldier said as Miller applied clean bandages to his head.

"You gotta try buddy," Miller said with a little irritation carried in his voice, "I'll carry you if I have to"

"I'm slowing you down and in the end I'll probably die, I've got-I'm bleeding inside and by the time we even get to the fucking shore I'll be dead"

"I've made my mind, I'm not leaving you behind, you either get up and walk, show me your a fighter," Miller said with a sudden flash of determination and anger, "or I can carry your arse dead or not to the shoreline. Your not being left behind, and I'm not gonna let you die"

The soldier looked at Miller with concern, "My name is Ryan by the way, I would walk, but I dont actually think I can anymore"

Miller instantly picked the soldier up began carrying him up the hill. The silence of the forest, interrupted by the crunch of twigs and dead leaves under his boots and the sound of crickets chirping away. He was still a good five kilometres from the shoreline. With any luck, the poor bastard would survive, he couldn't be any older then 23, stupid fucking kids.

UCN Vance, Outside Minsk, Outside Firing Range of Hostiles

"Admiral Christian!" The Officer called out as he approached the admiral, "NORTHCOM is on the line, asking for a mission update"

Christian grunted as he walked towards the communication panel, "Admiral Christian speaking"

"Admiral. What's the situation with the landing, we were led to believe the invasion was to begin yesterday"

"Sir. We ran into some weather issues, the landing was postponed till it cleared"

There was a moment pause, the voice was slightly strained, "Admiral, I was led to believe the invasion had already begun, are you telling me that you haven't even landed yet?"

"Sir. There was no way I was willing to send an entire army to their death when the enemy still had coastal batteries onli-"

"Congress is getting increasingly impatient with our progress, my patience is running thin and so is congress" the commander of NORTHCOM replied with anger, "If you dont have troops on the ground by sunset today your out of a job, do you understand Admiral?"

"Sir. With all res-"

"Do you understand me Admiral! Sunset! Today!" screamed the commander.

"Yes Sir" said Christian, barely containing his anger.

"Good" Then the line went dead. Christian slowly went to put the phone back in its socket before he screamed and threw it across the room. The cord had been attached to the wall via cable and it stopped before swinging down and clattering against the wall.

"IDIOT!" He screamed, much to the shock of over a dozen personal currently working the command room. He looked at the communication officer who had spoken to him, "Get the entire fleet on the line, let them know we got shit for time to get this done. God save us if those coastal guns arent silenced before we get their"

Christian stormed out of the command center to get some fresh air, while the command room immediately resumed their duties as if nothing had happend.

Minsk, Ender's Beach Coastal Battery Site

The skies were clear with a small amount of clouds dotting around the skies, the half full moon provided some illumination in the dark. The sun was beginning to show over the horizon as the deep blue hue was replaced with a red and orange colour. The wind was gentle and the sound of crickets blotted out all other noises. The tall grass was perfect cover on approach to the first coastal battery and the squad of six moved in unison, they moved as low to the ground as possible until they reached the edge of the grass, to which they began scanning the site, this site contained two massive trucks, each with 6 pods loaded with anti-ship cruise missiles. There was about one squad around the site, all of which didn't seem to be giving a care in the world about anything. None of them had their guns on them and they were either chatting, drinking or playing a game of cards.

"Lazy fucks, they don't even have their guns near them" said Jeremy, "Keep it quiet and this will be a cakewalk alright"

The position had minimal defences around it, with a few sandbags and military walls. One of the soldiers, who appeared to have drunken so much to the point he was utterly shitfaced stood up, stumbled around for a bit before he slurred something. He began a uneven and disorientated walk straight towards the tall grass in which Jeremy's squad resided in.

"Drunky inbound," said Jeremy, "Take him and dont let him call out"

As the drunk soldier approached the grass he unzipped his pants and let out a loud and awkward moan as he urinated into the grass. He must have been so drunk to not notice the 6 soldiers who had their guns trained on him. As soon as he turned around to walk back, one of Jeremy's men quickly leaped forward, grabbed the soldier around the face, covering his mouth before stabbing him in the back with his knife. The soldier made a somewhat attempt at a scream as the knife was dug deeper into his back, the scream was muffled by the soldier as he was pulled back into the grass and dumped in the grass where he had taken the piss before.

"Sleep tight little buddy" said Corporal Wendell as he wiped the blood off his knife and holstered it.

"Hold position just to see if they heard the poor sap," said Jeremy, "We gotta move fast though or they'll start wondering where he's gone"

[North Arkana]

Ocean, South of Creatle Home Islands
Joint Mobile Fleet
XX/XX/20XX
1800 Hours

"All hands, report to battle stations. All hands, report to battle stations."

On board ANS Horizon, a storm of activity begins. After a long period at sea, their end goal was now within reach. It was time to reach out and touch it. Aircraft, are fueled and loaded on deck, as the first sorties are prepared to be catapulted into the sky. Crew retract the hoses back into their wells, as the blast deflectors are raised behind the engines of the waiting aircraft. With the last signals of affirmation, the flight deck boss gives the order to release the electromagnetic catapult. A roar of engines and a barely audible whine of electricity trail behind the aircraft climbing dramatically into the sky. Similar scenes are repeated across the fleet as varied sorties are launched into the air to make their way to loiter points and wait for their turns to make their strikes, while combat air patrols guard the skies against enemy intrusion, accompanied by AWACS, while EW/SEADS aircraft dash towards the coast at top speed, seemingly skimming the waves.

Simultaneously, columns of smoke and fire erupt from the decks of the frigates, destroyers, cruisers, and large cruisers of the surface action fleet. A storm of Stand-Off Strike Missiles emerges from the fleet's VLS cells, timed and programmed to arrive in a coordinated strike with the aircraft. The aircraft taking the high route, and cruise missiles taking the low route, while the EW/SEADS aircraft, widely considered to be piloted by complete madmen among pilots, roar into action to crush the enemy's air defenses.

It was a simple, devastating plan. Suppress and destroy the enemy's defenses, and then burn it to the ground. Primary targets were of military and industrial nature. Collateral damage was deemed acceptable.

[Free Asian Ports]

Seas East of DEN

The assembled first wave of aircraft elegantly formed into a formation protecting the AWACs. Several hundred meters to starboard was the EKA-3 that would take ELINT of possible enemy forces that they might encounter during the operation. It fed this information to the flight of EA-18 Growlers, which were actively jamming potential enemy radar frequencies. Far in front of this core formation was the fighter squadrons, six each of F-44s and F/A-18s. The F/A-18s were single seat models, loaded for multirole. Their primary concern was warding off further enemy ground forces from attacking strategic objectives and suppressing enemy air defense should the EA-18's efforts fall short. They were also loaded with AIM-9 and AIM-120 missiles, and should their strength be necessary, their maneuverability was not particularly affected by the various guided munitions mounted on the hard points. The F-44s led the whole air group, using their powerful and stealthy AESA radars to pick out targets that the AWACS missed. The moment they picked up an enemy fighter, it would be downed before they even knew what hit them.

The AWACS was crewed by well-trained Portean Navy airmen, each of whom had a fair amount of practice and exercise of their duties and competency. Diligently working in the cool atmosphere of the plane's interior, they were glued to their multifunction screens, looking for even the slightest contact that might indicate an enemy aircraft. Others worked on keeping the air group organized, shifting patrol aircraft around so that all sectors were being covered. Outside, the radar dish lazily spun, directing the powerful air- and surface-search radar about the sky. Presently, a ping registered on the screen, positively being identified as a surface vessel. It was very quickly followed by several more. IFF returns indicated that the ships were either unidentified or unfriendly. The operators very quickly determined it was the latter. Warships, in a fleet formation. Target telemetry was rapidly in the process of being acquired.

"Popeye 3 to BLUE, Popeye 3 to BLUE. Contacts spotted, sector Alpha-Juliet. IFF negative, suspect enemy surface vessels. Repeat, contacts spotted, sector Alpha-Juliet. Enemy main fleet spotted. Tangos are as follows: suspect one Charlie-Victor, five Delta-Delta, three Lima-Sierra. Repeat, suspect one Charlie-Victor, five Delta-Delta, three Lima-Sierra. Additional aerial contacts spotted, approximately ten aircraft on defensive flight paths"

The report was heard by the Captain, but he also received the message in paper moments after it was made. "<So, this is it. This is the big game. Launch the second wave armed for surface warfare, direct them to the enemy fleet. I want an additional AWACS up there along with the rest of Yellow squadron. Put the Wyverns on CAP and have them ready to support Yellow if things get serious. Tell the first wave to ignore the fleet for now and continue on their original course. Keep out of their radar range, jam the hell out of them, but if they get caught with their pants down, tell Suzuka to kill their whole damn air group!>" As his orders barked out, the crew rushed to follow them. The Air Boss approved another wave of F-44s and F/A-18s for takeoff, and the flight deck ran into another flurry of activity. Another E-2 was prepared, and was accompanied by some F-44s. Harpoon anti-ship missiles were uncased and wheeled out to waiting Super Hornets brought up from the hangar. In a few minutes this second wave would be in the air and organized for the first strike.

The carrier's escorts also prepared for combat. Two Frigates, a Destroyer, and a Cruiser moved closer to the edge of the fleet, still somewhat out of mutual range for the opposing warships but having the benefit of intel they could position themselves for optimum combat performance. Target information flowed through the datalink from the AWACS that had eyes on the enemy. GPS coordinates, radar information, and more fed the CiC of the warships. With the enemy amphibious assault positively identified, the mission to interrupt landings could begin...

[Empire of Donner land]

Leon's Peak, DEN, North of Kursk

---

"The Seventh, The Seventh, Never Untested"

---

XX/XX/2015

---

Leon's Peak was less of a mountain and more of a hill to the Donnish, where they were from they hiked to peaks that'd make Leon's look like anthills in comparison. And to the Seventh, Leon's Peak might as well be a speck of dirt as forward observors and AA Elements hiked up and prepared their recon of the incoming Namenian troops. They could see the Helicopters incoming from rather far away, they weren't afraid, the Namenian Military was all talk and no bite to them. the Seventh had been in Modena, they had rolled over them and occupied their Capital. Before, the Namenians were in the HF, a part of the now gone Super State that engulfed the entire Helsan Continent and more. It was disbanded now, and Modena was given away to the Namenian Government stupidly. The Seventh intended on helping getting it back, no matter how many lives they had to end or lose.

"Namenian Helos, range finding... 5 Kilometers out. They're within Stinger Range, Sergzen." A Donnish Soldier spoke as they held the Tactical Bincoulars to their eyes, observing the moving Helicopters, skimming just above the tree line to avoid Radar contact. The Sergzen behind him nodded, his visor masking his smug look as he began to broadcast to his platoon leader.

"Four-One to Platoon Lead, Namenian Transports 5 Kilometers out and moving in bearing Two-Sixty, how copy?" The Sergzen said quickly. They had MANPADs waiting on the hill in a trap for the Namenians, this was their chance.

"Roger Four-One, Lead Copies, we see them too, Anti-Air light them up! Two-Sixty, range 5 Kilometers!"

The Anti-Air Element attached to the company of soldiers on Leon's Peak opened fire on the incoming Namenians until they ran out of Ammunition. Stinger Missiles streaked from Leon's Peak, their position now known. The Seventh were briefed over the Namenians profeciency with Artillery, Heavy Artillery, and moved out quickly and mounted their Vehicles to get away from their original position as soon as possible, not to another position on the Hill, but off the Hill entirely as they'd surely just shell the entire Peak. The earliest known position of the Namenian Transports were reported as the Company hoofed it off the Hill.

Below the Peak, troops made their way to defensive positions in the trees and in defolades and dug their own makeshift foxholes. Tanks moved in secondary positions behind the Infantry, hidden under trees and camouflaged to avoid detection. Artillery sat close behind them ready to fire when needed and then move before the Namenians could fire a counter-battery. The IFVs that went with the infantry scanned ahead of them using IR. Everyone kept their eyes on the sky and behind them, making sure they wouldn't land behind the Donnish Lines and if they did, two 400 man Battalions stayed back behind the Artillery and Armor to intercept their landings. Colonel Zerev would make sure that their Namenian Compatriots would assist them when needed.

At sea, Aircraft prepared to launch and were loaded with munitions as a Bögt Class Carrier escorted by a fleet prepared in advance to assist the landing. It's aircraft were in range and all they needed were the words to launch its Aircraft. The knowledge that Donner Land was in DEN was known, war was broken out and stops were pulled. Electronic Warfare Craft would be the first up to pave a way through the Namenian's bristling defenses. FACs on the ground with their infantry made sure their radios worked in order to call in attacks on the Namenian Infantry for Donnish Air Elements.

Colonel Zerev commanded the Namenian Units to stay on the flank, the Donnish would take the brunt of the attack and they would flank around given the opportunity and hoped to box the Namenians in around Leon's Peak and get close enough that their Artillery would have to hit their own units to assist the Namenians surrounded by the Donnish and their Rebellious Troops. The Colonel himself stayed far back but close enough to the action to see what was going on and have a idea of what was going on. The OSS was coded to give him all the information on all troop movements in his own Visor that would update frequently.

The Battle of Leon's Peak began.

[The Unified Isles]

An Official Communique
From the High Lords of the Isles
In Representation of the collective interest of all the Isle'ish
Official Translation

Many happy years befall thee,

It is the utmost honour of this noble council to announce that the Isle'ish people, represented by the majority of the Isle'ish Royal Army's Directory (IRAD), and the Parliament of the Isle'ish Republican Front (PIRF), have decided to take side in the glorious clash of arms that currently takes part in your nation. We have noted the utmost danger which is radiated by the Namenian Revolutionaries and especially the Donnish Government's support of them.

Before the IRA will commit to anything though, it will have to observe the situation in more detail. For this mission, an “Observation Force DEN” under the Commander of Sergeant-General (Bvt.) van Gardaren, currently commander of 1st Brigade, 31st Airborne Division, which will form the main contingent of the Observation Force. The IRAD has called for this council to bring three further things to your notice:

1st – The Observation Force will be airlifted to Grattenburg, and then become official when arrived there
2nd – The Observation Force can and will be placed under DEN Military Command
3rd – Sgt. Gen. Van Gardaren remains not bound to your orders though.

Peace be with DEN,

Sir James Maitland,
In his function as Lord High Chancellor

---

The Staff of the of the newly assembled “Observation Force” (Or rather newly to be assembled, if one was to strictly follow Royal Army Protocol) was of course not travelling in any of these Common Heavy Transport Planes. In stead, they were travelling First Class, on one of the “Staff Planes” that the Royal Army had bought so long ago. Captain Hermione Noyens, despite having grown up in a very traditionalistic Officer Household and therefore being used to this “Gloryhounding” for the twenty-four years that her life had taken till now, still found it silly. Grown men, flying to war in first class, wearing their gold-embroidered regimental dress uniforms with the silver laces, debating Tactical Theorems over a cup of tea.

Noyens didn't necessarily dislike them for being like that. She rather had to hold her laughter very frequently on the snootiness in the Staff Positions, compared to the dirty mud and rough talk that frequented a combat billet. When she was lucky, a Captain somewhere in the Brigade would succumb early into the War, and she could be moved down.

With her in the little alcove were sitting two men, both of which represented very well to common tropes found on a Brigade or Divisional Staff. Leftenant Jasper, the youngest person on the plane, only recently promoted up from Ensign. Excited as always at his first post. Junior Aide-de-Camp, the glorified accountant of the glorified accountant that Noyens was, Senior Aide-de-Camp. He was bend over a map, explaining some very basic manoeuvre types common in the Isle'ish Style of “Integration Warfare” to his neighbour.

The neighbour probably had heard all of this countless times already. Mid-30s, two golden stars on his epaulette. Major Stephenson seemed less interested in Jaspers talk then he should be. Completely disinterested, to be honest. What seemed to interest him more was the young woman sitting with him. “Another cup of tea, Miss”, “Captain...”, she kindly reminded him of his relationship with her, in a low voice, “Captain Noyens ?”, “No, mine thanks are thine.” He quickly gazed below Noyens face before returning his view to the map.

After a couple of further minutes of silently staring at the very superficial conversation between Jasper and Stephenson, another two men encountered their little tea party. Noyens seriously had to hold her laughter when she realized that she actually had a complete sets of the stereotypical staff officers collected around her now. The Young, Enthusiastic one and the middle-aged, slightly perverted. And now Colonel Curran and General van Gardaran. Curran was the silent one. Never talked. Never. Only gave slight advices to his one and only superior, the General. Whom was, as everybody knew, the kind of precocious Grandfather of the entire Brigade. Also the person with the most colourful uniform, usually...

“Ah, Mine eyes catch that thee art instructing my Aides at the Art of War, Major. Good work.”, he shortly paused, “What'seth their to laugheth, Captain Noyens ?, “Nothing, thy Grace.”, “Glory. Anyway, the staff shall beeth landing in a few minutes time. Brace thyself. Colonel Archer's 2nd Fusiliers art already there, the other regiments shall dropeth in within the next hours.”

“Aye, thy Grace” came the words from the Staff's mouth in wild unison. Noyens was with them, for once, a part of the staff that she found so comical.

[Die Erworbenen Namen]

Official Communique from The United Socialist States of Die Erworbenen Namen

To: The Unified Isles
From: The Foreign Office of the United Socialist States Government
Subject:Reinforcements

Greetings from the north,

As you already know, the United Socialist States is in a state of war with multiple nations and factions, both inside and outside of our borders. Upon receiving your diplomatic message, I presented it to the Politburo immediately. I am happy to report, then, that the Politburo, and especially the Emperor himself, have agreed to your conditions of help. Please airlift the soldiers to Modeno, where it will be used in defense of the state.

Long Live The Emperor.
Long Live DEN.
Long Live Order.

Sincerely,

Albert Nauschler, Foreign Officer of the Politburo.

LZ Lima

"Captain Lutz, we've got launches on the horizon. Smoke trails at 20! Beginning maneuvers, hold on to your seat!" The Pilot reported, and pulled back on the stick while he rippled off flares. The helicopter pitched up into the air, slowing down immensely and began to lift up into the air. "Be advised, smoke trails due north. Fox ones inbound."

"Able Company, this is Captain Lutz speaking. LZ is hot. We will not touch down, I repeat, we will not touch down!" Captain Lutz ordered over the radio to the company. He had just finished giving the order when the first of the infrared missiles shot past his chopper at full speed, distracted by one of the flares the chopper shot off, and continued on. Normally, he knew, the missile would just turn around and come back after the chopper, but it had ran out of fuel, and drifted the rest of the distance. He made a mental note about the distance, and guessed that the missiles they were using were out of desperation more than tactics. "Bring her down here!"

"Roger." The pilot responded, and began descending onto the landing zone as soon as possible. The captain gripped his rifle tightly in his hands, and leapt out of the plane as fast as humanly possible, making a landing on the ground a couple of feet below him. He instantly rolled forward and dropped to his knee, bringing his rifle up to bear. The perimeter established, and the chopper unloaded, they got back onto their feet and started walking towards the treeline. Behind them, the company continued to unload, and the entire company began establishing the perimeter around the LZ.

"Comrade Captain, WESTCOM reports that SEAD is inbound. We've got weasels in the air right now." The Radio operator reported to the captain, listening to the radio at the same time he was giving the report. "They'll be above us shortly."

"Roger, trooper. Tell them we need our recon, and fast." Lutz ordered, looking around the perimeter. He heard the roar of a jet engine above him, and saw the F-11's fly by. Seconds later he heard an explosion, and prayed that it was not one of the jets.

Above LZ Lima

"Weasel two, I've got a reading on the RWR. Contact to our four. Search radar." Weasel one reported, looking out the side of his cockpit. He couldn't see the launcher itself, but he knew it was there.

"Roger, Weasel one. I've got eyes on the bogie. Engaging." Weasel Two replied, flipping the arming switch for his payload to on. He got a lock via his anti radar missile, and pulled the trigger. The pylons disengaged and pushed the guided missile away, where the rocket engaged and sent the missile flying towards her target. "Fox Four, clear launch. Moving out."

Novayan Border

"Sir! Radar has detected a considerable amount of enemy counter battery fire inbound!" The lieutenant reported to the Lieutenant General, who was obviously angered.

"Engage the rounds, fire back on their position. Cluster them!" The General ordered, looking into the sky. The AAT-5s and the close in weapon systems turned to engage the incoming mass of enemy fire. They locked on to the missiles, and fired, sending their own payload to meet them. At the same time, the artillery units ran for cover, and the counter battery units open fired on the enemy position. Dozens of rockets were shot into the sky, flying towards the enemy artillery with a screech.

"Incoming!" The lieutenant reported, just before he was drowned out by a loud series of detonations. At least a few batteries had been obliterated by the large caliber rockets from the enemy MRLS, causing the general to swear. The bastards had gotten to him in a way he had not thought of before. He would not enjoy writing the report.

[Empire of Donner land]

Leon's Peak, DEN, North of Kursk

---

XX/XX/2015

---

The thunder of a Jet screamed over the entrenched and waiting troops, followed by a loud detonation coming from behind their lines. They could still hear the jet afterwards, they could only assume one of their units was attacked successfully by an enemy air unit. However the casualty wasn't Donnish, one of the Namenian Rebel SAMs were hit by a Anti-Radar Missile. As the F-11 flew away the SAMs radars reactivated and gained a lock on it and given permission to engage. One missile was let loose as the rest of the remaining SAMs remained inactive. As soon as the hit was trashed they would deactivate radar and wait for visual confirmation that the SEAD Aircraft passed over, otherwise they would confirm the kill and continue to search.

However as soon as Enemy Air Presence was reported, the DNS Blensehg was allowed to scramble Aircraft to assist. Crews rushed and the Carrier was buzzing with activity as an EA-6 Prowler was put into take off position. And below the Prowler, 5 other aircraft were being prepared for launch while their pilots endured the last moments of their mission briefing.

"Buzz 1-2, you are green for take off and cleared for EW Operations, join up on Buzz 1-1s wing." the radio said, the pilots of the EA-6 Prowler began to take off. The crew of four, one Pilot and three others manning the EW equipment, would guide and create a safe passage through the Namenian Defenses in order to support the landing and establish air supremacy in the area. As the two Prowlers circled, a flight of 5 ASF/A-50s were now readied for take off armed with four AIM-9X Sidewinder within the center bay with 2 AIM-120 AMRAAMs. 3 of the Moths were also given two prescision guided bomb CBU-103 Cluster Munitions for Anti-Personnel use while the other two were given two GBU-23 Paveway 3s. Over the deep blue cold ocean the flight of 7 Aircraft had become airborne as they made their way to Leon's Peak. As soon as they neared the cost, and with that Namenian Radar, they would begin EW Operations confusing and jamming Radar and communications in the area while the Moths began to establish superiority in the area and begin Air to Ground operations.

Back on land, Donnish Mortar teams were given the last known position of Namenian troops and set up their artillery pieces for called in fire missions from the forward observers as they fell back from the hill. They were given the position of where the Helicopters landed and the crews readied for the go to fire with their 81mm M252 Mortars.

"Repellahg 1-1, this is Farehg 3-3, fire for effect over."

"Farehg 3-3, this is Repellahg 1-1, fire for effect out."

"Farehg 3-3 for Repellahg 1-1, 12 HE rounds from 20 teams on GRID 10R 10984 56890 over."

"Repellahg 1-1 to Farehg 3-3, all teams firing on GRID 10R 10984 56890 out.

As soon as the Fire Mission ended and the coordinates were calculated and reported back to the ordered teams across the line, 20 Mortars opened fire on the given coordinates for effect only stopping when they had launched 12 rounds as ordered. The heavy artillery in the back was saved for later as Zerev couldn't risk them being spotted and potentially targeted, as well as it being a waste of ammunition to be used on only a hundred or so enemy combatants when they could use smaller munitions. After firing, the Mortars repositioned just in case.

Knowing that the enemy was just now establishing their lines by now Zerev ordered the Namenian troops to begin movement on the enemies left flank through the woods slowly and cautiously to avoid being spotted. The Donnish remained in their position and 800 men were freed up from behind to join the front. Knowing that he could better keep tabs on enemy positions from the hill he ordered the two LG platoons attached to them to take the hill and scout and act as forward observers to call in further artillery missions. The Company could just be a probing force to figure out their capabilites before sending in a full contingent, and as such Zerev became cautious. A military wouldn't send a small unit to counter a larger invading force, especially if they were outnumbered by hundreds and outgunned.

[Die Erworbenen Namen]

Above LZ Lima

"Weasel two, weasel two, I've got eyes on a missile launch. Radar signature locked on. Engaging." Weasel one reported, flipping the arming switch and pulling the trigger on the stick. The anti radar missile disengaged from the pylon, and the rocket engine began burning. It shot ahead towards the enemy SAM as the F-11 increased his speed and deployed both flares and chaff. "Fox four away!"

Weasel two had deployed chaff and pulled hard on the stick, trying to shake off the lock. He was successful in defeating the missile, and turned on his afterburner to get out of the AO. "Weasel One, this is weasel two. Heading out of the AO for another run."

"Roger, Weasel two. Coming around for another pass." Weasel One replied, banking to the left and pulling back on the stick.

LZ Lima

The rounds impacted ahead of the landing zone, and began to crawl up in a destructive trail. The soldiers of Able company dove to the ground and covered their heads as the mortar shells detonated around them. It soon crawled up to their position, and like a frightened whisper, the screams of the dying and dead were heard, just barely being drowned out by the explosions. When the two hundred and forty rounds had finished, the true destruction of the barrage was revealed. More than half of the company had been shredded, including the captain, and the ones who were alive were barely spared any wounds.

Lying on his back, the Captain's radioman could feel blood on his chest, and a large pain in his leg. Looking down, the corporal could see that half of his left leg was simply gone, but where Captain Lutz was, a small crater stood instead. The bodies of the command squad around him were scattered, with only a few people actually alive. He could feel anger boiling up inside of him, seeing the mutilated body of the Commissar and Captain against a tree. With a groan, the corporal reached around his back and pulled out his radio, and switched the channel to long range.

"Kilo Base, this is Able One Four, this is Able One Four. Requesting artillery fire on grid... --- ---. Load Willy Pete, saturation." The Corporal requested over the radio, releasing the transmitter button.

"Able One Four, This is Kilo Base. Willy Pete saturation fire inbound. Standby." The radio replied, with a pause in the transmission. Forty seconds later, the radio replied again. "[b]Rounds complete. Seventy seconds to touchdown. Out.[/i]"

The corporal groaned, tearing his uniform belt off and tying it around his leg as a makeshift tourniquet. He felt the blood flow stifle, then stop, and the bleeding ceased. He could hear the screams around him, but as if it was just some normal background noise, he tuned it out. He couldn't help them anymore.

"Splash, out." The radio crackled.

Above him, he heard the horrendous screech of rockets flashing past him, like banshees in the wind. They curved down, and he heard the impact and detonation of the rounds. Bright flashes of light filled the air and forest, and the telltale white smoke curled into the sky. Two dozen rockets blanketed the area the mortars came from with their white phosphorous munitions, burning the forested grid with the fury of hell itself.

"Fucking bastards..." The radioman cursed, hearing the footsteps of the medic behind him. "Burn in hell."