[Kerbin Only] Kerbin in Jeopardy

[Nostrapais]

"Move on !"

The order fused. The engines of the Smerchs started roaring in unison. Above them, three small AN-2s flew by. Two hours ago, thet took off to airdrop piles of leaflets over Polgrad.

"LEAVE THE CITY IF YOU WANT TO LIVE. YOU HAVE TWO HOURS." they simply said. The city's death warrant. The rocket launching vehicles were on their way to carry on the sentence. Every troop concentration, storage area, anything looking remotely like a fortified position was to be flattened under a hailstorm of explosives. This was to be the overture of an attack involving Anderias three allies. Then, as soon as the last rocket landed, the infantry would swoop in, clear what they had time to clear and entrench as deep as they could.

"Lucky us eh ?" screamed the crewman of one of the resupply vehicles.

"Better than the poor folks going in after we're done for sure." answered is comrade.

"Just you wait until the Dolfik air force realizes what's up." went on another, tapping on the rocket storage tube he was seating beside. As per usual, nobody listened to him.

They all had that feeling of something big, massive coming and they knew that, no matter what it was, it wanted blood, rivers, a sea of it. Baydorian, Nostrapaisian, Anderian, Barkadian, Dolfik... It did not care, they all tasted the same and, to it, it was good. So, most of them tried to ignore it, frowning upon the defeatists, dismissing their fears and eagerly reading the news from the homefront about the draft of five hundred thousand men, hoping the meatgrinder about to be would cease its dreadful work before their turn.

"Twenty minute before objective, helmets on, safeties off !" the radio yelled.

Three antiaircraft vehicles passed by, the crews waving at them. Everybody ignored them, or at least tried to. Everybody also mentally cursed the pessimist sitting by his rockets. The thick smell of smoke struck them and black colones started appearing on the horizon. Minutes after minutes, the rolling thunder of cannon artillery was becoming louder. The party was already on and, like a Serrian carnival, the piece de resistance, the fireworks, were just coming.

[Verkimlund]

Front Page of the Internationally Ratified Document Outlying Neutrality and Critical Action, Baydor Crisis Act of 2021

On Behalf of The Housevaaler, Parliament of The Armed Republic of Verkimlund .

The Baydor Crisis Act of 2021
On Behalf of The Nation State of Verkimlund, The Armed Republic.
I Pieter Koch, Prime Minster of The Housevaaler. Enter Into Law This act Passed by Housevaaler on this day, The 11th of November 2021.

Summary Of Contents
This Act shall lay out and formalise before the international community The nation state of Verkimlund's commitment to remaining neutral in the ongoing crisis in Baydor setting legal precedent for the prevention of armed personnel or the execution of any military goals in the region. Despite this however the nation Recognises and respects its duty to her sister Meanwealth nations and The international community, therefor This act will contain provisions for The following Sections Relating to the Treatment of International Casualties

Sections of The Act
1:A| The Details of Neutrality
1:B| Protections Under Neutrality
1:C|Exceptions To Neutrality
1:D| Protections For International Casualties And Personnel
1:E|Protected Symbols
1:F| Provisions For Retaliation To Breach Of Neutrality

2:A| Provisions For The Commandeering Of Vehicles And Personnel
2:B| Land And Resource Procurement
2:C| Military Authority
2:D| NMS Authority
2:E| National Separation
2:F| International Evacuation Provisions
2:G| Policing Provisions
2:H| Pay Policy
2:I| Provisions For Resource Rationing

3:A| Basis Of International Arrangements
3:B| International Requirements
3:C| International Interaction
3:E| International Reception of Protected Symbols
3:F| International Donation Of Personnel and Supplies
3:G| International Military Craft Under Verkimlund Protection
3:H| Verkimlund Protectorate Status
3:I| Border Control and Materials
3:J| Emergency Import

4:A| Military Acquisition Of Crown Land
4:B| Military Acquisition Of Medical Facilities
4:C| Military Acquisition Of Medical Personnel
4:D| NMS Emergency Structure
4:E| NMS Triage Policy
4:F| NMS Acquisition Of Resources
4:G| NMS Reactivation
4:H| NMS Reserve

5:A| International Travel Rights
5:B| International Military Personnel Provision
5:C| International Civilian Personnel Provision
5:D| International Flagstaff Rights
5:E| International MPS Rights
5:F| Broadband Provisions For International Useage
5:G| Press Coverage And Provisions

6:A| Fatality Notification Office Establishment
6:B| Royal Mail Notification Expansion
6:C| Casualties Notification Office Establishment
6:D| Historical Account Provisions
6:E| International Chaplaincy Provisions
6:F| Chaplaincy Recall

Ratified By

Pieter Koch, Prime Minister,
The Armed Republic Of Verkimlund

Yevan Vazvaraz, Ambassador To Verkimlund,
The Peoples Democratic Republic of Anderia.

Amitabh Anatasia, Ambassador To Verkimlund,
The Federation Of Malabar.

Viliam Jahoda, Ambassador To Verkimlund,
Democratic Republic of Barkadia.

Kamila Novomedská, Ambassador To Verkimlund,
Democratic Republic of Barkadia.

Vatimar Ilyasen, Ambassador To Verkimlund,
Socialist Union of Northeast Cancodia.

Damir Batyrshin, Ambassador To Verkimlund,
The Tau Kicari Union.

[Islamic Nari]

He looked above a file of papers. Well, refined summary to the council with the only thing needed was a simple little signing. "Interesting," as he flipped through the pages.

The creation of the First Brigade was something to be proud of after two years of envisioning. It seemed a bit rushed due to the onset of the war, but it didn't create confusion. He stared endlessly at the map, how the contours of the elevations in the republic laid across the whole. He stepped over to a wall which laid a large textured map of the world. At its center was the nation itself. He laid a hand on the western mountains, rough, tall, and strong, "the republic."

He looked over east to the flatter plains and small oasis that littered across the nation. "The Revolutionary Guard," as he highlighted the birthplace of the revolution and end of the monarchs with his fingers.

He knew their ambitions and how loose his leash was on them. He was proud to be them once upon a time ago but focused back west. He chortled a bit, "Give or take another year or so to convert the battalions, and we'll see an alternative to the current fighter jet procurement program."

He walked back to his desk, staring longingly at his paper as he took a seat behind his desk. The signature was written and stamped well with a seal.

[Island Paradis]

A man picks up a freshly made cup of coffee from the machine, and he fills up his thermos to the brim. "It's gonna be one of those days," he tiredly moaned to himself as he stared out the window onto the orange morning sky of the northern island.

There was a tall pole that proudly waved two flags. One had the red, a top, and blue, below, circle signifying the sun rising above the sea surrounded by the white cliffs from west to south and the frozen ocean from the north, the republican flag. The second was white and red with the Paradis wheel above the Serrian cross, the monarch flag. He heard the ramblings of his Grand Papi when Paradis had a single banner, the dark blue of the ocean with the Dolfik union jack in the top-left corner and the larger-than-life Paradis wheel in the center. Those days have long passed then, but as he stared into the corner television, he realized that he may have been on the better timeline.

"Hey Christian," said another man as he walked over to him.

Taller, well-groomed, and surprisingly tolerant to alcohol, Christian looked at him up with jealousy and annoyance for anyone who could enjoy an early Wednesday morning. "Hey, can you do these papers real quick? The deadline is next Tuesday to get this done and signed, so we kind of need to get on with it," said the man.

"Sure," said Christian, "anything else you would like me to do, Tyrell."

"You want to go out drinking after work maybe and pass me the coffee and rum," replied Tyrell.

They both chuckled a bit, "you caught me, and yeah," said Christian as he passed the coffee jug over.

He looked down at the stack of papers and said, "what is this all? Are we finally getting nukes from how tall the stack is?"

"No, they were all sent packing into the sea from the looks of the rumors and meteorological events," Tyrell chuckled, "it's a rifle."

The papers were handed over to Christian, "see you later tonight," as Tyrell left.

Walking over to his cubicles and flipping over the papers, he stares endlessly at the pinpoints. He laughed a little to himself, "not as he hated him, it probably just the Wednesday blues."

He sat down and opened the next page, "weird, Iconian."

He put a finger onto it, eyes widen and slightly more awake, "interesting choice."

[Pargesia]

A New Nuntic Relationship

Aniana

Rūlof is sitting in his study. He has been reading the papers about the Minister-President's visit. Neither of the two top circulars is interested in the upcoming event. The word "neutral" came up in a lot of the articles. For some reason, the business papers seem to welcome it. Before he could continue reading, a knock pulls his eyes to the study door.

"Come in!" Rūlof shouted.

The door opens. Dogu Kavak comes in with a thick folder. "Good morning, Mr. Kavak."

Kavak does a curt nod. "Good morning, Your Majesty."

"Has the Minister-President arrived?" Rūlof asks. He folds the newspaper and puts it aside.

"In an hour, sir." Kavak replies. "No one from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs will let you meet with her without last-minute preparations."

Rūlof chuckles. "So not a straightforward fuck off? Getting into this Nuntic Union isn't popular anywhere." Rūlof glances at the business papers. "...At least, anywhere that matters. I might get couped for this."

"I can assure you no coup or paranoia is justified today." Kavak took one of the two seats flanking Rūlof's desk. "This should be an easy decision. Delaying it helps paint our reluctance. The people will know their king doesn't like it either."

"The Serrians claim to be neutral." Rūlof grinds his teeth. "But they're willing to economically integrate their markets with other countries. Something is up."

Kavak adjusts his eyeglasses. "Well, countries usually stand to gain from economic agreements." He says.

"I don't want foreign brands to flood our markets, Dogu." Rūlof raises his finger. "This globalization business isn't a mutual guarantor of prosperity. One market is going to dominate another."

Kavak nods in understanding. "I'm sure Ionus has a plan to mitigate whatever problems that may arise."

Standing up from his desk, Rūlof puts on his service cap. He turns at the body-length mirror next to the desk and checks out his uniform.

"Alright. Let's fuck this up."

...

The welcome ceremony at the airport was quick. Rūlof wanted to make sure the Minister-President felt the lack of enthusiasm for her arrival. In fact, Rūlof made sure their trip to the palace was through streets lined with protests against the Minister-President's visit. Rūlof kept assuring her, of course.

Rūlof barely kept herself from laughing when they passed by a couple of very interesting effigies. A woman wearing the printed face of the Minister-President, thrusting her hips at a mascot parodying Rūlof. This Rūlof was bent over with a cartoonish face that looked too happy receiving the special attention from the Minister-President.

As they drove down a long avenue, Brotorbric Palace appeared on the horizon. The area is devoid of high-rises, making the stately home larger than it actually was. To Rūlof's realization, his home's architecture looked very similar to Serrian palazzos.

Inside, they were greeted by a grand staircase and marble interiors covered in red carpets and ornate furniture. Paintings of past kings from previous dynasties looked down on them as they made their way to a drawing room.

The room is decorated with fine artifacts. Old paintings and vases hung on the walls. A grandfather clock ticks between two large windows letting natural light filter in. An electrified, gilded chandelier illuminates the room. In the middle of the room, a set of sofas and end tables faced each other. Rūlof looks at the clock and nods, smiling his satisfaction. Nice. Rūlof thinks, We could wrap this up earlier than expected.

"Feel free to drop anywhere." Rūlof says as he approaches the drinks cabinet. "What can I get for you, boss?" He offers to the Minister-President.

[Verkimlund]

Douglas sat watching the officers mill about, him and his cohort were training out of Estvel. The First Generation Of Verkimlund's navy, the first portion of their training, handled by Serrian Instructors. By sheer coincidence as far as anyone was aware, the Serrians had just begun renting a large part of the base for their own operations, their officers swaggered around in their navy blue working uniforms, sleeves rolled up, hats handing from sweaty fingers. It was almost comical, on this slightly chilly breezy day The majority of Enlisted Seamen moving around did so in Tshirts with dark sweat patches, in comparison both of the verkim on the bench wore their navy blues with the sleeves rolled down and hands rubbing together.

"so why dont you like em?" Sam asked from his left, he cocked his head looking at Douglas for a minute before returning to his rapidly melting pot of ice-cream.
"Because they're over here, over sexxed, and over paid, I watched one of them buy out all the kendal in the NAFI" douglas responded, watching one of the ships slowly pull into its mooring.
Sam stood suddenly avoiding a dollop of Mint Choc that had leap from his spoon. he sat back down and sighed.
"Didnt you buy out all the Kendal like, two weeks ago?" he asked with a smile
"shut up"

he turned to look at his friend trying to drink the green puddle from the bottom of his paper tub.
Neither of them were officers, both men were learning their trades at the base, and both men had a long way to go.

"how much you think they paying for all this?"

"fuck knows bru, how much you think we're paying for the training"

"fuck knows bru" He stood "Ima go get some cigs at NAFI, ya coming?"

Sam stood, throwing his tub into the bin and smoothing out his uniform.

"ye fuck it lets go"

[The Serrian Archipelago]

Aniana, Pargesia. 11 November 2021

Minister-President Moretti straightens out her suit jacket and interlocks her hands before replying, "Water is more than fine, still please." She takes a look around and observes the ornate nature of the room, reminding her of home. It was evident the two cultures were related, at a minimum in style and fashion. If only the rest of the country had been this welcoming... she thinks to herself.

"Just me then." His Majesty says, turning his back to pour bottled water into a nice glass. He cringes at the sight. He turns around and begins to walk towards the set of sofas in the center of the room, gesturing for the Minister-President to take a seat.

Moretti chuckles, "Not quite for me." She takes a seat and moves her hair out of her face with her fingers. As His Majesty sets down the glass of water on the table and seats himself across from her she takes a deep breath. "First, thanks for having me here. It is always a pleasure to be in Pargesia and learn more about your culture and people."

Nodding, he lets out "I've had Serrians in best company." He gestures with his hand and smirks suggestively.

"For many similar reasons, I believe increased cooperation between our two nations is both a key part in ensuring future prosperity within our region and solely within our borders" says Moretti, leaning in slightly. She continues, "Already as major trade partners I believe we both understand the benefit of our cultural, political, and business relationship. I would like to assuage any and all concerns you, on behalf of your people and government, may have for the Nuntic Union."

His Majesty nods for a moment. He begins to lay out his concerns, saying "Look, Sofia. You can't imagine how many times I've heard the same kind of supportive sentiment from my own advisors and the business community. I'm more concerned about my kingdom's ability to govern itself. The issue of national sovereignty is non-negotiable. It has no price and I have no intentions on letting overseas bureaucrats tell us what to do with it."

She listens closely and takes a sip out of her water, and leans back again. "Serria is one of the most protective nations on the planet regarding this very same issue. In fact, the neutrality clauses of the Serrian constitution prohibit many of the concerns you address, and these protections are imbedded into the latest draft constitution for the Union's treaty. The parliament proposed will not legislate on your behalf, but rather for the relations between member states. Specifically on trade policy."

He juts in a response, "That. About trade policy… Talking about its benefits is one thing. What specific aspects of trade policy is what I want to know. Aspects your Union wants to regulate."

She takes out a sheet in her binder detailing a summarized economic plan, and sets it on the table. Pointing at a specific line, she then says "I believe your economists have been correct here. The net gain is there for your people. Trade agreements will lead to redundant work reduced, and that is specifically why the proposed budget allocates significant resources to preparing for these situations, so no worker or family is left behind. Additionally, Serria and our partner nations have put together an impeccable team, composed of Pargish economists as well, who also endorse the multilateral free trade policy in this agreement- a significant shift from previous bilateral talks, and predicted to be much more rewarding."

His Majesty laughs. "Economists and their charts and figures. How do I know that the Union's parliament is fair? After all, it will determine policy between member countries. Depending on the process I will insist it does not include enough representation from Pargesia."

"Extensive work has been put into the legislative system being fair to all member states. Some actions will require the approval of each state rather than working through the parliament- which I believe addresses your concerns regarding those actions- but the parliament specifically will hold elected representatives who may join parties aligning to their policies" the Minister-President explains. "Specifically which actions subscribe to each body are all documented in the constitution."

He makes a gesture and gets up, dusting off his pants, and puts his hands on his hips. "Let's start heading back out for the first round of photos. But let me ask first- what's in it for you? I don't get this grandstanding from Serria." Moretti finishes her glass of water, sets it down, and knocks twice on the table with her knuckles before getting up.

"Serrians highly value the economic prosperity of their citizens, and our economists believe that this multilateral agreement between our partner countries is the best way to do so in a mutually productive way." She says, as they both begin to walk towards the door. "We found the Nuntic community to have lots in common, be it in culture, political organization, language, and while not all homogenous, linked. We believe this body is a positive next step for all involved."

The King raises a finger. "There is nothing in common between nations. Nothing. Pargesia stands on its own two feet. I don't like other people's feet stinking on my polished floor, you got that?"

"Very well then." She replies.

They both step out of the room and make their way down the winding hallways to continue their program for the day.

[Demitor]

Baydorian pennisula, 17:23Z

It went hot, and quickly. There was little time to react from the Demitorian high command staff commanding the small number of Demitorian forces in Baydor. Everyone knew it was going to go hot, but it was assumed that the activity would remain at it's previous level for another few months at least. There was already an evacuation of forces by ship due to this assumption, but the realization was quick. They would have to evacuate, fight, or die trying.

Immediately, the orders were given to prepare a hasty defense with whatever men, material, and earth they could hold. Guns were quickly turned to shovels as the earth was turned from a series of flat lands and rolling hills into something more defensible. Existing trenches were dug deeper and with more and more tank barriers being installed. Checkpoints were reinforced. AMLIS radars were placed every thirty miles all up and down the "line of defense." This would mean that there would be more of a defensible space. The commanders knew that there was only a small window of time before the front-lines of this new war reached the peninsula, and without the troops to hold both the coastline and the front line of control comfortably, there was no other choice but to abandon positions and ensure that enough troops could withdraw. Special forces would stay the longest in Baydor, as they still had ongoing missions to complete.

It would be awhile before any other troops left, and so they waited to see what was to come.

[Almedian Malabar]

[Demitor]

Demitorian Ministry of Defense Complex, Komsmisze, Demitor

The flurry of activity in recent weeks concering the nuclear test and the baydorian crisis had everyone in the office of the High Commissioner for Defense and National Preservation sweating. A conflict on a worldwide scale could very well go nuclear at any moment.

Chancellor Radacek Orlov and Chancellor Sambor Yablonsky, heads of the State Affairs Commission and the State Revolutionary Commission, respectively, sat in the Crisis Control Room in the Headquarters of the Ministry of Defense. Nicknamed the "Box" by staffers, it was a windowless room far underground and only accessible from the surface by several blast doors. In addition to the control room, the Box contained offices, living quarters, and several support rooms such as storerooms and a kitchen.

Normally the blast doors were kept open in peacetime, however, with the recent nuclear test, all activity in the Box was to be locked behind the blast doors all day. They watched footage coming in from the frontlines as the Dolphik invasion commenced. Orlov shook his head. The mission in Baydor was supposed to be humanitarian, with the military presence there being there for the security of the citizens. With warfare back in Baydor, and fighting commencing, there was no humanitarian mission left. He looked at Yablonksy, and turned back to the military officers and the High Commissioner sitting in front of him.

"Gentlemen, Demitor is to be on a wartime footing. We have the distance from the main fighting to be safe, for now. I want our forces to be withdrawn at the current speed, but accelerate the evacuation of our chemical weapons stockpile from the area. I do not want an international incident to occur with the superpowers finding out we had them there. I want any loose ends tied up. I'll be tasking the General Reconissance Bureau and the Office of Strategic Security with organization the evacuation, we just need to provide the manpower for them. The general committee of the Party is meeting tomorrow to discuss more about our next actions....."

Baydorian Pennisula

The scene was like one out of a zombie movie. The families trying to get on to the airfield, the soldiers trying to keep them back. In the distance another transport plane left for Demitor loaded with soldiers and meterial. Civillians weren't being evacuated yet. News of the invasion spread fear into the populuation, and they were trying to find any way out. So far, the Demitorian commanders on the ground had been successful at keeping them off the airfield to let the evacuation of soldiers continue. It was a twenty-four hour operation. Planes would land, be loaded, and take off back home. Then the news came in that the Anderians were entering the conflict.

It was already known well that the communists had Anderian support the entire time. It was assumed Anderian "advisors" supported the communist insurgents with any war material they needed. The command staff were sure there were Anderians in communist controlled territory nearby. Spetsnaz units of the General Reconnaissance Bureau and the Office of Strategic Security, as well as spetsnaz units of the Office of the High Commissioner for Defense and National Preservation were already working to delay the advance of enemy forces alike to allow for more evacuation time. Bridges were in the process of being destroyed, roads damaged, tank barriers hastily constructed. Anything to buy time.

[Barkadia]

Testing Range, Barkadia

Denis Chren, a gun designer, stands being a table with three different variants of the newly made BR-118P rifles. Eugen Hodža, an important official from the Ministry of Defense, walks up to him.

"Ah, Hodza, you finally made it! Cold today, isn't it?"

"You can say that again. Can you show me what you've built?"

"Yes sir. The first one we have here would be the standard configuration. It's as short as the BR-118C, but the barrel length is as long as in standard BR-118s. You can slide a bayonet on the front like this if you want too. It's also a little lighter overall as well. Shoots just as well though. I or any trained soldier can make the switch easily and handle it accurately."

"Can you show me?"

"Sure!"

Denis unloads a magazine down range into a target.

"What's this like compared to a standard BR-118?"

"Ah, I knew you would ask. Here's a target from when I shot one yesterday for comparison."

Denis shows Eugen a target with similar accuracy and precision.

"Good enough. What about the other two?"

"The second variant has the same specifications, but it's also designed to have an underbarrel mounted grenade launcher. It's not exactly the same as our forces use right now, but for those that are equipped with this, it can help provide additional firepower on the field. I would demonstrate, but I couldn't get my hands on a launchable grenade."

"And the third?"

"The third is basically the carbine version of the standard bullpup version. It's even shorter and lighter. You again have the option of mounting a bayonet on it if you would want to. This was designed as more of a PDW type weapon for vehicle crews and non frontline personnel. I don't think this would be the best on the field but it would be suitable just in case."

"If these were approved, what would you recommend these for?"

"I don't think they should replace the BR-118 and its variants everywhere. I do think that the first two would be great for special forces type guys. They can be retrained to adjust to the new layout and handle the rifle well. The third one I think should be our main PDW weapon though. It fires the same caliber, has some parts compatibility with our BR-118s and the bullpups, and would be suitable until crew or other personnel could retreat to safety."

"Alright. The guys in Nostrapais are clamoring for something like this too, ever since we told them about the program a few months ago. This project is approved. Production should start in full in a few months. I will let my friends in the government know so that they can share the schematics with our friends in Cancodia. Thanks again."

"These will be good, I promise."

[Demitor]

Demitor was on a wartime footing. Industry was directed to switch to ration their material usage while defense industries ramped up production. The Ministry for Foreign Affairs banned the export of wartime materials, and the Directorate for Economic Planning of the Ministry of Economic, Trade and Civil Affairs had taken over direct control of defense industries. The EMERGCON level was at 2, the second highest it could go. It was assumed the nuclear test was someone showing off their might, then the war kicked off. The population was calling for war due to the nuclear blast, but there was no clear indication who it was that detonated it. There were suspects, of course, but nothing definitive. Radar images from the Demitorian Long Range Warning Network showed only flickers, and were rendered useless by the EMP effect given off by the nuclear radiation. Demitor would be watching from the sidelines, armed, but neutral.

The high command staff realized this was going to be a war of attrition between the two ideological superpowers. The Union Assembly was debating involvement in the war behind closed doors. With the nuclear incident still fresh in the minds of the government staffers, there was a clear consensus among them. Stockpiling of war material was paramount to any involvement in the conflict, but doing so quietly would need to be the first priority to ensure that other nations do not notice. Ammunition, Small Arms, and small amounts of heavy equipment needed to be constantly produced in order to equip the large amount of volunteers and draftees that were entering the ranks of the military. It was expected that the military would balloon to almost 50,000 active duty soldiers due to conscription and spontaneous volunteers. The economy would be adjusted by the government to reflect this change in workforce numbers.

Demitor would be ready, but neutral.

[Beoiria]

[Toonu Empire]

The child policies set in place during the reforms established during the end of the 20th century has been said to be removed by the newly elected government as their program states. The new ministers of healthcare and internal affairs are now changing their mind as they have been heard saying that these steps would have too drastical effects on the population and let to an enormous decrease of the bureaucratically apparatus of the government overseeing its enforcement, followed by large surplus in the federal budget which quote “the ministry of defence is eager to spend”. The ruling coalition has had cohesion problems since its winner elections, but the cracks are starting to show and the parties allegiances are starting to prevent the fulfilment of the election campaign programmes.

The new government is also determined to change the constitutional laws concerning the election to the parliament. The government wants to introduce the possibility of empty seats in the parliament equal to the percentage of non voting population. With this change, the consensus ratio will become fluent, based on the amount of filled seats.

The Imperial Air Force has received its third Sublustric single stage to orbit spaceplane which will undergone its first flight as part of the Trinity program mission featuring two Sublustris orbiters to take off within the same launch window and rendezvousing in orbit to perform a docking experiments and orbital habitat tests. The newly acquired craft is expected to take off in advance and finish its orbital insertion before the other ship begin its mission to increase the safety of the crew present only in the second orbiter. The docked duo will remain in low kerb orbit for two weeks.

The Iconian High Command has published its Imperial Defence Force Development Programme 2030 (IDFDP30) as successive document to the finished IDFDP20, which brought the longer term projects such as Project Nestion, FMV, UAH or others conducted with allied nations. Although some of the document goals has been successful, the new document focuses on shorter term innovations and reorganisations to the army, which will expand its capabilities needed for committments to Iconian allies. One of the most criticised parts of the document is the immediate downsizing of the IAF, which resulted in subsequent contracts on selling 48 P299I of the Serrian origin to Tunguska to make space for the A-23. The long searched P-3C Orion replacement has come in vain as the NPD programme with Serria and Agios has been announced to fulfil the naval patrol and ASuW/ASW roles. This year will also show the fruits of the UAH programme which begun its trials recently.

[Nostrapais]

As a war was raging, the Nostrapaisian air echoed of festive sounds and smelled of grillings. The streets were truly a strange sight to behold on this day. Banners and garlands were flying between the houses and buildings as the country's youth was merrily chattering, dancing and street artists were performing their best tricks. The reason for all this joy was simple, stuck on each public display panel in big red letters: the draft. Not that people were happy to go to war, quite the contrary, they were protesting, blocking each and every recruitment office with parties. "Let us live !" they all simply said. And the government, the police and the army were watching, scratching their heads. What could they do against such a large scale campaign of civil disobedience ? Equal treatment of all citizens was required by law and constitution, yet they could not afford to jail thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of people. Nearly no violence occurred, thus charges the disband the crowd were unjustified and would likely only strengthen the protester numbers and a general strike was a the very last thing the government wanted on its plate. And so, they watched haplessly, turning away the complains of the officers on the field, reducing the draft numbers from time to time in the hope of pleasing the crowd, to no avail...

[Zkavkoza]

Zkavkoza Public Announcement

As we near the three week mark and our deadline on the 30th of December 2021, we face an issue. An overabundance of kindhearted, passionate individuals leaves Joint Base Rutte overwhelmed with volunteers eager to contribute to one of the world's largest international humanitarian aid efforts. With this immense showing of support from the Zkavkozan public, we have decided to increase our aid efforts for those involved in the recent events surrounding Verkimlund.

With still one more day for arrivals for in-processing, we are expecting nearly 1500 volunteers, necessitating a last minute increase in equipment. The largest mobilization in the history of Zkavkoza is taking place right now. With 25 H.7a’s and another 15 H.12’s rallying at Joint Base Rutte, we can see now that Zkavkoza will be a big player within this international effort.

We plan on having all assets and personnel within the country in less than one week. In order to ensure that our aid for the efforts in Verkimlund arrive on schedule, the 303rd and 312th Air Mobility Wing will be utilized for overseas transport and lift. We will also be helped by our kind neighbors, Serria, employing their mobility assets within Nor.

As we grow in this world, it is becoming our duty to participate and act steadily in moments like these. As we maintain neutrality, opportunities to save lives still exist and isolationist ideals hold no benefit for our nation or those in which we share this world with. This joint cooperation will strengthen ties overseas and show that we have the means to make a difference, for the better.

[The United Kolonia Republic]

This message is approved for public view by the Parliament of the United Republic of Kolonia


The second-to-last Iconia-bound P-1 moments from landing at Joint Base Edessa, the Federal Republic of Icaria

Three years after signatures, final Iconian P-1 departs for its new home

Just over 3 years after the program was signed into existence, the final Iconian P-1 has departed Kolonia for its new home across the planet. The aircraft will stop in Icaria, refuel, and then continue on to Iconia, where the Kolonian flight crew will board a military transport home. The 22 P-1s, 6 of which are in a non-combat intelligence gathering role, have been leased to the Iconian government for an unknown period of time, and an undisclosed sum of money. It is widely expected, however, that they are to serve as an interim replacement for the Iconian Military until the joint NPD program produces an operational aircraft. With the delivery of the last P-1, Iconia's P-3 and RC-135 platforms have met the end of their service under those colors. In 2019, the program experienced some controversy when 3 of the completed P-1s were requisitioned by the Kolonian Government in order to replace combat losses during the Second Barko-Kolonian War, however, Iconian Officials had agreed upon this as the urgent need to restore combat capability was utmost priority to the war effort. Another step in a long history of cooperation between the two nations, the P-1s will serve Iconia faithfully, as they have in Kolonian service.




A 9-ship F-104 flight buzzes past the parliament building in Kortica, a fitting end for an aircraft long tasked with the air defense of the capital

Kolonian Air Force approves retirement of nearly 100 aircraft

In a similar show to last year, the Air Force has approved the MBC’22’s recommendation to immediately retire four antiquated types of aircraft from active and reserve service. After decades of service with the Kolonian Military for each type, the P-3 Orion, M-50 Molot, F-104 Starfighter and F-105 Thunderchief have been declared too costly to maintain in service. The announcement was commemorated by an airshow over Kortica, involving 9 F-104s, 5 F-105s, 3 P-3s and a single M-50. As stated by the budgetary commission, "The M-50 and F-104's roles have been replaced by more capable ground based assets, in the tactical strike and air interception roles respectively," the commission continued, "furthermore, the P-3 and F-105 have been replaced by newer and much more capable aircraft. These reductions will only free up finances for further development and an expansion of the Air Force's capabilities." The Air Force has stated that the departure of these aircraft from service will not effect its mission capabilities, and that pilots who choose to stay in the armed forces will be retrained to aircraft with similar mission capabilities to the retired planes, such as the P-1, or Mirage IV. Furthermore, P-3s deployed for the defense of Tunguska will remain on active duty for an undisclosed time.

Open ocean, Northwest of the Muskovo Isles, International Waters

December 29th, 15:40

Communist vessels were hard to find out here. Despite the world seeing the opening stages of a massive war in Baydor, the seas were mostly quiet, as almost every piece of socialist and communist material elected to be transported through the safety of Aprezye's land border, rather than face the Dolphik navy in the high seas.

After the withdrawal of combat units from the Baydorian mainland, Kolonian forces had regrouped in Tunguska to prepare for a potential invasion, and to defend against enemy interlopers that might take an opportunistic shot at destroying military installations in the country. Those fears, so far, were unrealized. A Kolonian P-3 Orion, however, had a radar contact that did not align with any allied vessel, and as they got closer, there was concern as to why these ships were steaming towards Tunguska.

Upon getting closer, the radar contacts showed themselves to be a number of vessels. A long range visual confirmation showed five ships, a frigate, two corvettes, and what seemed to be two support ships of some kind. They were in tight sailing formation, but as they got closer, identification cards profiled them to be of Anderian and Nostrapaisan origin.

The P-3 dove for the ocean. They had orders to dissuade and deflect enemy aggression, and what seemed to be an upcoming incursion into Tunguskan waters definitely fit the bill. They raced towards the ships, and began an observational circle around them.

Once entering the circle, they could clearly see Nostrapaisan naval banners flying on every ship. Orbiting again and again around the vessels, the time burnt down as fuel got lower and lower and they moved closer towards Tunguska.

Upon receiving conformation from the officer in command of the squadron, they dove in. Less than a dozen meters off the waters, they aligned themselves to cut in front of the bows of the ships. Streaming past at 350 knots, they buzzed the lead ship, startling the crew on board, and leading to many expletives to clash with the sound of the waves.

The Kolonian aircraft went again, from the other direction, this time leaving more prepared sailors to take photographs and videos. That would surely be on communist news networks worldwide.

As the aircraft prepared to make its third pass, the ships started to change course. As further discouragement, the frigate locked the P-3 up with its radar systems, leaving the crew to pop chaff, turn around, and high tail it back to safety at its base.

[The Serrian Archipelago]

Translated transcript of Minister-President Lucio Marino's Innaugral Speech, Serria, Serria, 19 December 2021. An excerpt

"Your holiness, Your Majesty, Minister-President Moretti, people of Serria, and those watching abroad:

I have been given a unique opportunity to serve my people and the world. We carry on our democratic tradition for another year, since the 19th century, a tradition that is to be defended and preserved. Our nation, one given a rich culture, history, and people by no other being than Himself, is Blessed in every meaning of the word.

We are blessed in our international position, seen as a responsible nation of peace and progress. We are blessed in our situation at home, with a prosperous economic situation and rich culture. We are prosperous at heart, which is what is most important to the Lord.

I have been chosen to submit my talents and passions to best serve the greatest nation on this planet and beyond. A nation that is to send explorers across the stars, a nation that has proven itself resourceful and resilient. A nation which I am proud to call my home.

I take pride in the work of my predecessors, especially Minister-President Moretti, who has overseen trial and tribulations, but also blazing progress. Economically, she has excelled. Militarily, she has excelled. Diplomatically, she has excelled. I look forward to carrying on her torch into my term.

During my time as Trade Minister, I saw firsthand the industriousness and prowess of our nation. Our strength comes from our unity, the bonds between us, and our willingness to dedicate ourselves to altruistic ideals.

Certainly this is no time for any of us to stop thinking about the social and economic problems which are the root cause of the social revolution which is today a supreme factor in the world.

For there is nothing mysterious about the foundations of a healthy and strong democracy. The basic things expected by our people of their political and economic systems are simple. They are:

Equality of opportunity for youth and for others.

Jobs for those who can work.

Security for those who need it.

The ending of special privilege for the few.

The preservation of civil liberties for all.

The enjoyment of the fruits of scientific progress in a wider and constantly rising standard of living.

These are the simple, basic things that must never be lost sight of in the turmoil and unbelievable complexity of our modern world. The inner and abiding strength of our economic and political systems is dependent upon the degree to which they fulfill these expectations.

It motivated me to apply these principals throughout the upcoming administration. In a changing world where peace is rapidly deteriorating it is immature--and incidentally, untrue--for anybody to brag that an unprepared nation, single-handed, and with one hand tied behind its back, can hold off the whole world. We must cooperate, innovate, and dedicate our policy to ensuring our safety, and the safety of four divine freedoms.

Freedom of Speech, a right to every Serrian and every citizen to live in a society of free expression.

Freedom of Worship, even in our culture, must maintain free will as He desired.

Freedom from Want, as failure to help those sick and poor is a failure to fulfill our duties as Servants of the Lord.

And Freedom from Fear, as those who live in fear of oppression and tyranny or subjugation and destruction have been denied their right to life.

This nation has placed its destiny in the hands and heads and hearts of its millions of free men and women; and its faith in freedom under the guidance of God. Freedom means the supremacy of human rights everywhere. Our support goes to those who struggle to gain those rights or keep them. Our strength is our unity of purpose. To that high concept there can be no end save victory."

[Nostrapais]

Admiral Mariette nodded towards the frigate's captain, Moncharmin, as they watched the aircraft fly away towards the Tunguskan coast.

"Let's not push it further, we know what we wanted to know. Order the fleet back home please."

The captain acknowledged and gave the order as Mariette headed back to the room allocated to her staff. The six officers going through reports and papers immediately stood up and saluted.

"Dismissed."

"I heard we heard we are heading home Ma'am ?"

"Yes we are. We've been overflown and shadowed by a plane, Tunguskan or Kolonian according to the recognition charts and behavior, we will get the pictures to confirm it soon. Mission is more than complete, no point taking the risk of an interception by a fleet or more planes. It's already a miracle we are alive."


She grabbed a free chair and sat down before gesturing towards her aide-de-camp.

"Grab some papers, a pen and ready up your best wording Ellie, transcribe what I'm about to say in some fancy long report you're so good at putting together and go bother the captain if you need some details. Johan, you note exactly these words down and hand them over the communication officer once I'm done. To admiralty, high priority, coded."

"Yes Ma'am." answered the officers in unison, used to the ways of their superior.

"Admiral Julie Mariette reporting, NP Maxime Laborde. Operation Dolphin success. Intrusion in Dolfik waters up to the islands met no opposition. Intrusion in Tunguskan waters met with expected response. No damage to report, no encounter bare recon plane to report, pictures attached in report, fleet heading back home. Recommend sending submarines for further probing. Over."

The aide-de-camp and the officer sprang on their feets as soon as Admiral Mariette voiced the last word and headed for the bridge. Soon after, a mariner entered the cabin.

"Sorry to bother you Ma'am, we have an ID on the plane, Captain said he thought you'd want to know."

"So ?"

"Kolonian P-3 Ma'am, nicknamed Orion by them. Antisubmarine or antishipping aircraft."

Mariette spent a couple second thinking.

"Run towards the communication room and tell Lieutenant Maraud to add "Submarines barred from intruding Tunguskan waters" to the preliminary report."

"Yes Ma'am !"

The admiral sat back into her chair, trying to relax amidst the bruising of paper in the room, letting the adrenaline rush of the encounter and ordering cool down.

[Zkavkoza]

[Pargesia]

The state dinner is held at Brotorbric Palace's Throne Hall. The velvet room is furnished with chairs and tables for the evening event. Once the last of the guests arrived, the King and the Minister-President makes their entrance to a string quartet playing the Pargish national anthem. Everybody stood in applause.

King Rūlof and the visiting head of government sat next to each other at the head of the table. Behind them, the throne watched over them as an iron sentinel on top of a marble dais. As protocol dictates, Queen Delfina sat in the Minister-President's side. Sofia's partner for the evening sat in the King's side.

Deflina sparkles in her tiara and diamonds that match her glistening white gown. When their eyes met, Delfina gives the female head of government a warm smile. "Between you and me, I'm glad to see a woman as head of government. Not a lot of Pargish women get to your position."

Before Moretti could reply, Delfina continues, "You know, it does make sense. I saw Rudy shuffling maps and state papers, ranting at his advisors about how he doesn't get Serria. Men can do many things and remain calm most of the time. When Rudy and his ministers do their job, they act as if their wives have simultaneously filed for divorce."

"It's stressful, doing this," Moretti said. "I'm not jealous of anyone else who has to do this - I found a unique opportunity to help my people, and as the first woman to serve as Minister-President, our women too. I would have served another term in service, but this job is called a service because that's what it really is. It requires an immense amount of self-sacrifice and control. Luckily now, I can return to more peaceful things."

"I see... I will never understand politics, Minister-President. I wish you good luck."

Before Sofia could get more information from the Queen, the King stands up and waits for the footman to finish adjusting the microphone.

Rūlof looks at the crowd under hawkish eyes. "Drinks are on the house, by the way."

It gets him several laughs and giggles. Rūlof glances down at the Minister-President and winks at her.

He looks back at the rest of the room and says, "An additional complimentary glass in her honor."

A peal of excited laughter fills the room.

The King's speech was bland. Although it did not repeat a lot of things, words like "partnership," "mutual," and "independence" sound like Rūlof has said them at least a dozen by mid-speech. The only thing that stood out was what he said towards the end.

"...The historical ties between Pargesia and Serria carry unique attributes that help define their respective national character. I hope future partnerships will celebrate this and maintain our distinct national identities. Enrich them and ensure our sovereignty belongs to their rightful owners. May Pargesia and Serria become stronger nations and reject the idea of political globalization."

Rūlof calls for a toast. As people began to stand up, the Serrian national anthem started playing.

At the end of the anthem, Rūlof raises his glass at the Minister-President. "To the Minister-President!" He shouts.

"The Minister-President!" Everyone joins in.

Delfina started her speech by greeting everyone with a pleasant evening. She mentioned her conversation with the Queen, spared everyone the details for a joke that made people laugh—except the King, who only smiled. Delfina extolled international cooperation through cultural ties as an intimate expression of a nation's individuality, not a threat against sovereignty or the nation-state.

“I know we all want to get to food, so I’ll keep this short. I’ve very much enjoyed my time in Pargesia, a truly wonderful country, and one Serria is glad to be friendly with. Although my time as Minister-President is coming to an end next month, I look forward to see how we can work together to keep our nations strong and independent bastions of culture and prosperity.”

Delfina raised her glass to Rūlof. "To the King!"

"The King!"

[The Serrian Archipelago]

Newly-inaugarated Serrian Minister-President Lucio Marino waits in his office. Having just been sworn in less than a month ago, he still often pauses to explore the Executive Residence and find his fit. Today’s schedule was simple, but busy—mostly catching up on transitioning departments. As the outgoing executive was a member of the Liberal Coalition as well, things were going smoothly and many held on to their respective positions. Lucio takes a seat into his chair and begins reading a briefing before an aide cracks the office door, blended into the wall, ajar.

“Minister-President, Minister-President Moretti is waiting for you.” Lucio quickly closes the file and looks towards his bodyman.

“Let her in right away” he says, pushing his chair back slightly and getting up. She walks through the door with a smile on her face as he makes his way around the desk and towards her, reaching out his hand.

“So nice to see you again Lucio” she says, shaking his hand firmly.

“Likewise, Sophia. Please, have a seat.” An aide quickly comes in and pours both a glass of wine before promptly leaving and gently closing the door.

“How are things?” she asks, taking her glass of wine and taking a sip. Lucio chuckles.

“Exciting… to say the least. My favorite part has been talking to all the foreign leaders. It is definitely easier in this country to take all of those welcome calls than it must be for the Kerthenians or Anderians…”

“I bet” Sophia says, setting down her glass. “Regardless—to get down to brass tacks—you wanted my opinion on my meeting with Pargesia’s dignitaries?”

He leans in slightly. “Yes, I was sorry I couldn’t make it on that trip despite your invitation. The campaign was at its height, I hope you understand.” She nods. “What was your reading, personally? I read the reports but wanted your perspective.”

“Of course. Well, they are a more nationalistic people, but there are groups within that see the economic value of joining a trade agreement. Them declining to join the Lirezone was a clear example of that, but I believe that will prove to be a success regardless. They are a very confident people.”

“Confident people?” he asks curiously.

“Yes- the royalty at least are very sure of the direction they want to take their country in. They are very defensive about globalization and preserving national identity, as some factions here are as well, and we are to an extent. It is very important to them and as I outlined in my transition documents you should try not to tug that thread. Otherwise though, they are still committed to signing the agreement and look forward to working together. It was overall successful.”

Before Lucio can respond, his bodyman opens the door slightly. “Sir, your National Security Briefing starts in 5 minutes in the Red Room.”

Having just exited the position, Sophia understood immediately, looked at Lucio briefly for a split second, tapped her hands on her knees and got up. “It was a pleasure, Minister-President Marino.”

“All mine” replied Lucio, extending a handshake.

[Nostrapais]

The streets of Polgrad were echoing with gunfire which sonic supremacy was only disputed by the roaring of several large fires. Amidst this chaos, the rattling tracks of the Nostrapaisian T-55 prowling down a large street, crushing barricades and mounds of litter went almost unnoticed. Almost. On the second story of a small building, a window suddenly burst open. The black dot of an anti-tank rocket followed by the flaming propellant headed straight towards the tank and...


A lound bang !


The fist of President Beaujour slamming against the table echoed in the room.

"A disaster ! This is what this whole affair is ! A fucking fiasco !"

Mersault shivered. He knew his career was standing on the razor's edge.

"Let's not be so hasty in our conclu..." he tried.

"Oh yeah ? Beaujour cut him. Our economy is going down the shitter if these protests against the draft go on and without this draft, we cannot keep on fighting for this damn city you promised me would fall in a matter of weeks ! And meanwhile, our faithful Anderian allies are doing jackshit while the Barkadians are busy suiciding their country like us. And don't even get me started on these waters we could have free reign over if only the Anderians moved their asses if I understand your submarines' reports correctly."

"But..."

"Shut up Mersault. You are half competent, which is the only reason you are still there. Down this stupid mask of pride veiling your eyes and look at the truth in its face. Your little war is a complete failure. We cannot move, we are sending the few volunteers we have into a pointless grinder and our country is on a path for self destruction alright."

Mersault nodded, remaining silent, as the President went on.

"So now, you're going to save this, or else I'll have your head. Have the frontlines stabilized with whatever gain we made, get your little friend Salais to contact the Dolphiks to discuss a ceasefire as soon as that is done and prepare plans for a full retreat and repatriation of our troops for the end of March. If you don't want to do it, I have two dozen candidates lining up and willing to better listen, understood Mersault ?"

"Yes sir..."

"Perfect, dismissed comrade."

[Tungusta]

The fighting had been going on for three days now. Barkadian MBTs, IFVs and dismounted infantry had been constantly battering Tunguskan positions, only to be pushed back by the well dug in Tunguskan defenders. Troops had been fighting non-stop staying awake purely on adrenaline and caffeine. A Barkadian MiG-29 pilot had been shot down and captured by a Quick Reaction Force of the 12th Air Assault Regiment. Barkadian T-72s were slaughtered wholesale crossing open ground in fruitless attempts to draw fire away from infantry positions with limited cover. Tunguskan soldiers holding the line were exhausted and CASEVACing casualties proved to be a challenge under the intensity of the fire. The Tunguskan Air Force was working at its very limit. Pilots were sent up with minutes of rest, providing valuable Close Air Support for the boots on the ground. Commanders on both sides realized it would quickly become a stalemate if they did not act fast.

Another salvo of four Hailstone missiles flew overhead, striking their targets with lethal precision. Barkadian tank crews staggered out of their burning hulls, dazed and screaming in pain. There was a certain scent that filled the air; cordite and blood. Many Barkadian bodies lay lifeless on the fields of Baydor as streaks of tracer set the plains alight. Screams were muffled by gunshots. Brass and brains littered the floor. It was the 28th of January 2022 and never before had Tunguskan soldiers seen this intensity of fighting since the streets of Oserov.

Running across a wheat field, bayonet fixed to his R92 Rifle, was 21 year old Section Commander Corporal Igor. About 200m away was a Barkadian MG nest their section was to take out. Death lurked around the corner for any living being that dare stopped moving. Lead whipped overhead as they crossed from irrigation ditch to irrigation ditch. A loud crack rang out. Suddenly, he was on the floor. Running to his side and pulling him into a ditch was a fellow Trooper.

"Fuck. I think that was my plate carrier."

"That thing isn't stopping bullets anymore"

"No, it isn't"

"Are you hurt?"

"No"

He got back up and caught up with the rest of the section as they rapidly closed in on the nest. 100m to go. They left the visual cover of the tall wheat stalks and were now exposed to the bulk of the fire.

"Alright, this is it! Only forwards from now!"

A fireteam broke off to provide a base of fire as the other four men charged across open ground in plain view of the enemy. The fire was intense. 7.62 blew past, striking the man to the right of him in the shoulder. The terrain was marshy and each step made a distinctive squelch. Returning fire whilst running over waterlogged ditches was no easy feat. He let more rounds fly as they closed in to 30m. 10m, the Machine Gunner pulled a pistol. But it was too little too late. Soon enough, warm flesh met cold steel. Fresh blood dripped from his barrel.

This was only one of several assaults that took place that day. All along the line, Thoroughbred Mk II IFVs pushed the offensive as infantry flooded out and stormed compounds, secured intelligence and cleared out Anti-Tank and Machine Gun emplacements. This was the first offensive operation in Communist Baydor by the Tunguskan Armed Forces since the start of the multi-national conflict.

[Barkadia]

Pristav, Barkadia

The country was once again at war. Until recently, Pristav was the largest and most active port in the entire country. But after the rebuilding of the facilities in Cuda was completed, most of the military and some of the civilian traffic was diverted. It didn't help that the government tried to redirect commerce to help protect against Meanwealth anti shipping activities. Now the city has returned to an uneasy calm, and economic activity has once again slowed as more people are sent out to Andolia or their activated reserve divisions. Civilian industry that was converted years ago continues to pump out BR-118 assault rifles or naval vessel components. The people are tired but begrudgingly continue to work and fight. It's not all bad though. They still have their jobs, autonomy, and other benefits, which are maintained at a heavy cost as the economy continues to be strained by near constant warfare. But that's Barkadia now. Warfare is the new norm. Classes, factories, and offices are all emptier now. Families are smaller now. But the government displays no remorse. Vincent was quietly reelected last December and although a proud peace advocate, having the successful Kora Accords to carry him through his terms, openly maintains the war. Most economic plans were weakened or rewritten to serve the war effort. But the only thing the country is seemingly marching towards is its own demise. Only so many can die.

Sára Kollárová, current mayor of Pristav, is under no illusion of the strain. When she was first elected in 2017, things were so much different. Grocery stores were constantly stocked with goods from Barkadia and around the world. People were excited to finally become adults and go to school or move out and be their own persons. The economy was growing and improving with every passing day. The future was bright and exciting.

But that era is over now. She knows it. The stores aren't empty, but there's no more variety. Foods are diverted to making rations for troops. You're lucky to get a good cut of meat once a month. When kids turn 18, instead of going to college and seeing the world independently, they are given a uniform and rifle and sent off to a front thousands of miles away. The economic growth is gone. Numbers of military hardware produced is seemingly all that matters now. This country is falling into the abyss at a breakneck pace, and there's no-

The ringing of the phone on her desk derails her train of thought. She picks up the handset and sighs before placing it against her ear.

"Ma'am, your boyfriend Peter Biskup is here again. Should I let him go up?"

There is an audible sigh. "Yeah, whatever. Also, for the millionth fucking time, he is not my boyfriend. Stop saying it."

"Whatever, ma'am."

A minute later, there is a knock at the office door. Sara shouts for him to come in.

"Hey, Sara. Looking happy and optimistic as always. I must say that it seems you have continued to improve lately!"

There is another audible sigh. "Yeah, whatever," she says. "I find it hard to smile or celebrate anything these days."

Peter pulls out the chair in front of the desk and plops down.

"You know, Sara, you can't predict the future. You don't know what will happen. You expect collapse and destruction. Don't do that. Be optimistic."

"Optimistic for what, Peter! When was the last time you weren't in uniform one way or another? Quite frankly I'm surprised you haven't been sent to Andolia yet. You were in Mirovana beforehand, and then barely months before that you were in Icaria. Every time you've come back this country has worsened. You're just not here to see it happen right in front of you."

"This war will be the last one, Sara. After we defeat the Dolfiks and liberate Baydor, we will be able to be at peace again."

"You know more 18 year olds now than you did in high school, Pete! Be real for a second. The division you command was a professional armored division. It stood out against the rest of the military. Now, most of your armor crews look like they're missing their algebra class. You wanna know where all your men and women went? Under a tombstone. Shit is falling apart. I've known you for so long, Pete. You're not stupid."

"And Sara, I've known you for so long as well. You're not stupid either. It will get better. Trust me."

"Pete, I hope they don't mobilize you. I don't want you to go. Even with your spirit you know it's wearing down on you. You've seen people leave forever. I don't want you to join them."

"They won't. And if they try to, you have your connections in the party and the central government anyways. You'll be able to do something, maybe."

He stands up from the chair and walks to the door.

"Goodbye, Sara. Don't stress out so much. We'll both be fine. This country will be okay."

"I hope you're right. I really hope you are."