[Kerbin Only] Kerbin in Jeopardy

[Barkadia]

Základňa, Barkadia

It's 3 AM in the small town of Základňa.The tram rolls down the middle of the snow covered road, carving its path while the cabin remains empty save for the graveyard shift motorman smoking a cigarette while blankly staring off. The textile factory on the west side of town used to make some of the best clothes in this part of Barkadia. Now it only makes uniforms for the military. The local engineering school, which used to be the main source of higher education, is near permanently half empty. The rural energy of the town was sucked away by the wars. Nowhere in Barkadia remains unaffected. The echoes of the wars cause large ripples everywhere now. Even on the brightest and warmest days, it's just gray now.

But Teodor and his local political group, refuse to give up. There is hope for a better tomorrow, but it's not with socialism. And either by election or force, it will be returned to Barkadia. Not with the monarchy, no way in hell. But a republic like those in Sverna and across the world. They show growth, stability, actual freedom. The revolutionaries in 2005 were a bunch of idealistic fools who don't know anything about how to run the government, and it shows. Decline, wars, destruction. Hell, just look at this town. The collectivization of whatever agriculture there is, the suppression of any loud enough opposition, the lax and hardworking soul of the townsfolk sucked away. What else does socialism mean but red coated authoritarianism? For the last 16 years, this country has been dragged down and ruined by socialism. It is only natural to want to destroy the enemy and create something better. To be better.

As Teodor finished the last sentence in his conclusion, he sighed the biggest sigh of relief in his life. His magnum opus has been worked on for years. His other works were unpopular in the post revolution fervor, when things seemed good. But obviously, stuff has changed. Alternatives are palatable again. As the PDF was uploaded, and as he typed in the email of publishers, ready to turn in his manifesto, he glanced out the window next to his desk. He saw that tram, slowly making its way through the snow, stopping for no one. In his head, he compared his struggles to the tram. The tram was slow, but it always kept moving, and would eventually reach the station. Just like how him and the party will be successful at reaching its goals of liberating Barkadia from the red grasp.

[Barkadia]

Prostredny, Barkadia

The sun still barely peeks over the horizon for just hours a day here. But that doesn't stop the roar of machinery and the hustle and bustle of the industrial districts of this city. A hundred years ago, this place was a small hunting outpost, with only one main road and the railroad stopping just south of the city. But then one factory was built, and then another. And then the people followed the jobs. By the eve of the First Barko-Kolonian War, it was already the fifth largest city in all of Barkadia. The monarchist government mobilized all that it could, and the factories of the city were converted to feed the rapidly swelling military industrial complex. By the peace treaty in 1972, the factories in the city were making plenty of crude vehicle copies and other weaponry. The near revolution and the economic crash afterwards lead to unemployment and migration back south the more established cities and industrial centers. It wasn't until the beginning of the 80s where the investment and people started slowly trickling back.

Ján Mäsiar saw it all himself. His family stuck around after the war, and he was born in 1974, in some of the worst times ever in modern Barkadian history. But the spirit of his mother and father kept them from falling into poverty or having to migrate. They worked double shifts, the odd jobs, all while keeping their child in school and well fed. They watched as the new developments flew up into the sky and cover more ground than the old city ever did. The new factories produced almost everything your typical consumer could ever want. Most Barkadians owned goods made almost exclusively within the city. The rebound and growth in the 80s and 90s was only possible because of us. Barkadia went from recession and poverty to near first world standards of living within just 20 years. And it was all thanks to Prostredny and the workers within it.

Jan watched leftism sprout out of the unfair conditions and exploitation that the factory workers were experiencing. Unions and coops and strikes were becoming more common again. And again and again, the capitalist government and the owners had to fold to their might. He was so inspired that he joined the local branch of the socialist party, and participated in direct action himself for years relentlessly. Jan participated in the 2005 Revolution himself, being part of the armed group seizing the city hall and deposing the oppressive government. He worked as a local bureaucrat until 2015, when he won a successful mayoral campaign as part of the Left Coalition, the then dominant party of Barkadia.

Now, in 2022, the city stands as one of the most important economic pillars in all of Barkadia. The city continued to grow and became the third largest city in the entire country. The factories kept coming, and Prostredny became the industrial center of the country. But it no longer fuels the consumer goods industry of Barkadia, which now is mostly non existent. Instead of the crude copies made during the first war against the Kolonians, it produces the most advanced military technology the Anderians allow us to. Just like everywhere in this country, it was fully mobilized for the seemingly endless amounts of wars this country continues to fight. And just like in the 70s, the country's economy is beginning to decline at faster and faster levels. Jan stares out the window of his office, watching the smoke and steam rise from the numerous factories. He knows the future isn't set in stone, but so far, it's not looking good for anyone.

It's getting bad.

[Faulksnia]

Tank cannons thundered through the forest clearing, volley after volley churning the already pitted dirt downrange. Nearby, rifles chattered between the echoes of each 130 mm shot. Officers screaming orders filled whatever silence could have possibly existed. Faulksnia had spent years de-militarizing after the revolution and Barko-Kolonian war. Now, the factories had reopened and anyone willing was drafted into new training centers. Everyone could see Barkadia was losing the war of attrition, soon there would be imperialists on the doorstep trying to "liberate" her.

Numerous councils had spent the last months debating how much and what kind of aid to send to our neighbors. The unification process was delayed due to the war, if Faulksnia joined, the process could continue and Barkadia have a fresh strength. But the war reports were grim and the slaughter seemed meaningless. Entire peoples were being destroyed in what was becoming little more than a proxy war between the major powers. Joining the war would just weaken Faulksnia for the future. As much food and clothing as could be spared was being shipped across the border, but the Barkadian war effort was a black hole that sucked in anything and everything unlucky enough to fall into its orbit. Faulksnian hospitals were filled with Barkadians seeking faster treatment, although many were shipped off to their deaths the second they got home. People hated the war and were scared it would come to them. The slow re-arming didn't help.

And yet, the birds still chirped in the forest and from atop telephone poles. People biked next to each other and chatted about new gearing systems. Smiley faces and cartoon versions of cats were graffitied onto the sides of train cars. Faulksnia was alive and would continue onwards. Even if this war failed, and the next, and the one after, the international revolution would happen. It took five hundred years to kill feudalism and there were still monarchs left in the world. The red tide was not receeding, just gathering strength.

[Nostrapais]

"Some rain would have been nice, some drama's always better..."

That was the main thought of President, or rather Ex-President Beaujour as he closed the door of the state's head residence for the last time of his life. Outside, on the other side of the tall fences, a small crowd had gathered, shooting his name in support and brandishing anti-war banners. A few journalists where also shooting their pictures, chatting with a few of the peace partisans and scribbling. He sighed and composed his face to show a mask of determination. Sure of his standing, sure of the support of the population after a month of protest against the war, he announced out loud his resolution to leave it to the Anderians, Kicarians and Barkadians three days ago. And the moment the last sentence of his speech echoed between the walls of the conference room, he recognized his mistakes. Too late already. People were already standing, screaming in indignation or booing him. He recognized there the hand of Mersault and Salais. That was his first mistake. He gave them too much time, way too much time to rally the Party against him. He should have struck while they were still startled, and yet, he waited, prepared carefully, sure of his supremacy and power over the country. And there lied his second error. He forgot his place. He was President, and above him was the Party, and the Party was almighty. In a single, unanimous vote of the higher council, confirmed by a vote of the lower party, he was dismissed of his functions and new elections were convoked.

"War, war against our eternal Dolphik enemy, a rightful war to free our oppressed eastern brothers, a just war by the side and in the name of the great socialist fraternity, family" and so on and so on. Such words and variations were on the program of each and every new candidate. Not a single word against it, against the slaughter of the youth of so many countries. He already knew the answer to these objections, they had been hammered in every official newspaper published after his speech. Socialism isn't about the individual, it is about the whole. The International knows no unworthy sacrifices. And they went on again, reciting and paraphrasing the words of the great figures of the Party past and present.

The large door of the garden opened before him and the people waiting outside cheered for him. He couldn't hold back a sad smile that quickly turned into a grin of sincere pain when a journalist stopped him.

"Sir, a question ! How is your son doing on the frontlines ?"

And in the car parked on the other side of the road, Mersault laughed out loud.

[Verkimlund]

Mees Geheim

Verkimlund Ministerie van Verdediging
Gespesialiseerde oorlogvoering bevel
Verkimlund Spesiale lug diens
Noordelike taakmag

O.C.L.R
Operasionele bevel en logistieke verslag


Operasie aflewering

Majoor, Met ons Eerste Minister wat nou vir 'n aansienlike tydperk buite kantoor is, het die tyd aangebreek om drastiese optrede met betrekking tot die voorgestelde Operasie Aflewering te oorweeg. Ek het die afgelope dae na verskeie offisiere binne die Spesiale Operasionele Bevel uitgereik rakende hierdie operasie en het tot dusver daarin geslaag om 'n klein groepie offisiere wat soos ek glo dat hierdie operasie van uiterste belang is vir die veiligheid van ons nasie, veral met komende verpligtinge teenoor Operasie Verkim Aid

Dit het die afgelope dae baie duidelik geword dat die Eerste Minister nie die vermoë het om te veg in die bos en om ons nasie se veiligheid te lei nie, daarom is ek van plan om op eie inisiatief op te tree en u die groen lig om Operasie Delivery te begin.
Jy is kort voor die aankoms in detail ingelig van hierdie kennisgewing, wat na lees verbrand moet word, jy ken jou opdragte en ek het persoonlike vertroue in jou vermoë om dit uit te voer, Kies jou mans hoofvak, soos bespreek, die pakket is geleë in 'n geslote fasiliteit by Mukumbura, is die stasiebevelvoerder bewus en sal u toegang tot hierdie fasiliteit gee om die operasie voor te berei en uit te voer.


Laaste ons gepraat het, het jy gesê dat jy van plan was om persoonlike verantwoordelikheid te neem vir die sukses van hierdie operasie sou die groen lig gegee word, ek is bevrees ek moet nou vir jou sê dat dit nie moontlik sal wees nie. By my laaste kommunikasie met die eerste minister het hy volstrek geweier om hierdie operasie sy goedkeuring te gee en het 'n boodskap gestuur om alle verdere beplanning en voorbereiding te staak, aangesien ek seker jy uitgevind het dat ek nie so 'n aksie geneem het nie, sou jy hierdie bevele aanvaar, weet dat jy dit doen teen die woord van nie net die eerste minister nie, maar ook Housevaaler van ons volk.Ten spyte daarvan dat hierdie optrede verraad in nasie is, sal dit, soos ek en jy albei weet, 'n einde maak aan die Bush-oorlog, wat die nutkaap verseker en die nasie in staat stel om vorentoe te tree in Operasie Verkim-hulp in die beste moontlike lig, om ons nasie aan te dryf vorentoe na die globale verhoog, een man se opoffering is niks in vergelyking daarmee, soos ek seker jy weet.

God wees met jou majoor, Voer Operasie Aflewering uit
Vir land en Kaiser
Kolonel Pieter Groch

DRINGENDE BOODSKAP

Verkimlund Spesiale Taakspan
Vorentoe Na Spesiale Magte se bevelsentrum, Nasionale Sentrum vir Bestryding van Terrorisme, Eerste Ministers kantoorm, Ranger-bevelsentrum, Verkim Ligte Infanterie Hoofkwartier.

Soos gesê by gisteraand se noodinligtingsessie die volgende korrespondensie is by die Mukumbura-lugbasis ontdek, Die Spesiale Taakspan het begin met aggressiewe ondersoek na hierdie aangeleentheid en dit word op versoek van die eerste minister as hoogverraad en terrorisme behandel. Daar word op hierdie tydstip geglo dat "Operasielewering" verband hou met die onoordeelkundige vergiftiging van watervoorrade in die Noord-Kaap om Terroriste-aksie in daardie streek te bekamp. Hierdie plan is laat verlede jaar aan die premier voorgestel en het eensydig enige en alle toestemming geweier om voort te gaan met beplanning, Dit is nou duidelik dat dit geïgnoreer is, verskeie arrestasies is vanaf gisteraand gemaak, insluitend die kolonel en veelvuldige stafoffisiere van die gewone weermag. Die Spesiale Taakspan sal voortgaan om beamptes wat met hierdie operasie verband hou arrestasies te maak. Die Eerste Minister het dit egter duidelik gemaak dat die voltooiing van hierdie operasie nie 'n aanvaarbare uitkoms in hierdie situasie is nie en het my daarom in bevel geplaas van Operasie Turncoat,Twee Maatskappye van die VLI sal nie later nie as 05:00 môre die nutkaap binnegaan in volle toerustinggevegsorde, met 'n bykomende maatskappy wat in brandweer gehou word. Rangers sal ook patrollies na die nurt-kaap uitbrei met die hulp van VSAS-troepe, Enige en alle troepe van No 2 Sqaudron VSAS moet gearresteer of vernietig word voordat hulle doelwitte bereik kan word. No 2 Eskader VSAS is tans onder gewapende bewaking by hul barakke in Estviel, Twee Infanterie Seksies word nie gereken nie en sal na verwagting binne die AO wees.

Ek sê weer, Hierdie Boodskap bevestig jou mondelinge bevele van gisteraand, wat die behoefte aan ontplooiing in die nut-kaap verklaar en die vyandigheid van No 2 Squaron VSAS verklaar. Mag God ons almal genadig wees

Generaal Barke Morkel
Hoofdirekteur, Spesiale Taakspan.

Mede-onderteken,
Trooper Pieter Koch,
Eerste Minister.

---

Most Secret

Verkimlund Ministry Of Defence
Specialised Warfare Command
Verkimlund Special Air Service
Northern Task Force

O.C.L.R
Operational command and logistics report

Operation Delivery

Major, with our Prime Minister now out of office for a considerable period of time, the time has come to consider drastic action with regard to the proposed Operation Delivery. I have in recent days reached out to several officers within the Special Operational Command regarding this operation and have so far succeeded in convincing a small group of officers who now like me believe that this operation is of the utmost importance for the security of our nation, especially with forthcoming obligations towards Operation Verkim Aid.

It has become very clear in recent days that the Prime Minister does not have the ability to fight in the bush and to lead our nation's security, so I intend to act on my own initiative and give you the green light to begin Operation Delivery. You were briefed in detail shortly before arrival of this notice, which should be burned after reading, you know your objectives and I have personal confidence in your ability to carry them out, Choose your men major, as discussed, the package is located in a closed facility at Mukumbura, the station commander is aware and will give you access to this facility to prepare and carry out the operation.

Last we spoke, you said that you intended to take personal responsibility for the success of this operation should it be given the green light, I am afraid I must now tell you that this will not be possible. As of my last communication with the Prime Minister, he utterly refused to give his approval to this operation and sent word to stop all further planning and preparation, as I'm sure you have noticed I did not take any such action , should you accept these orders, know that you are doing this against the word of not only the Prime Minister but also Housevaaler of our people. Despite the fact that this action is treason in the nation, it will, as you and I both know, put an end to the Bush war, which secures the nurt cape and enables the nation to step forward in Operation Verkim aid. in the best possible light, to propel our nation forward to the global stage, one man's sacrifice is nothing compared to that, as I'm sure you know.


God be with you Major, Perform Operation Delivery
For Our Land and King
Colonel Pieter Groch

URGENT MESSAGE

Verkimlund Special Task Force
Forward To Special Forces Command Center, National Center for Counter Terrorism, Prime Ministers Office, Ranger Command Center, Verkim Light Infantry Headquarters.

As stated at last nights emergency briefing the following correspondence was discovered at the Mukumbura Joint Operations Center, The Special Task Force has begun aggressive investigation into this matter which is being treated as high treason and terrorism at the request of the Prime Minister. It is believed at this time that "Operation Delivery" is related to the indiscriminate poisoning of water supplies in the Northern Cape to combat Terrorist action in that region. This plan was proposed to the Prime Minister late last year and unilaterally refused any and all permission to proceed with planning. It is now clear that this order has been ignored, several arrests have been made since last night, including the Colonel and multiple staff officers of the regular army. The Special Task Force will continue to make arrests of officers associated with this operation. In Addition to Arrests, the Prime Minister has made it clear that the completion of this operation is not an acceptable outcome in this situation and therefore placed me in command of Operation Turncoat, Two Companies of the VLI will arrive in the nurt cape no later than 05:00 tomorrow in full equipment battle order, with an additional company held in fireforce. Rangers will also expand patrols to the nurt cape with the help of VSAS troops, Any and all troops from No 2 Squadron VSAS will be arrested or destroyed before their targets can be reached. the main of No 2 Squadron VSAS is currently under armed guard at their barracks in Estviel, Two Infantry Sections are unaccounted for and are expected to be within the AO.

I say again, This Message confirms your verbal commands from last night, declaring the need for deployment in the utility cape and declaring the hostility of No 2 Squadron VSAS. May God have mercy on us all

General Barke Morkel
Directer In Chief, Special Task Force.

Co-signed,
Trooper Pieter Koch,
Prime Minister.

[The United Kolonia Republic]

Iconian-Tunguskan convoy, approaching Muskovo, north-east Etanamic

February 15th, 18:21

For 10 days, it was nothing but blue. The convoy, leaving Iconia behind, ventured out into a cold, winter Etanamic ocean, with forecasts of storms and near-freezing weather. Instead, an anticyclone bloomed over the ocean, leaving the water a beautiful deep blue, and the air well below freezing.

As they neared the Straits of Muskovo, however, the blue skies gave way to low lying oceanic fog, and frequent sleet-filled squalls. It was just 1 day to Tunguska now, but for all aboard the 22 ships in the convoy, it might as well have been those 10 days.

Despite owning 6 of the 14 transports in the formation, only a single Kolonian warship was available to sail for the voyage. The KNS Dominica A. Androv, named for President Androv’s daughter who was killed during his assassination, was the sole example of Kolonian naval prowess. She was not a particularly good example, either. An old Kenneth M. Taylor class destroyer, nicknamed “Fletcher” in Kolonian usage, she had been long refitted and upgraded over more than 40 years of service in the Kolonian navy. These were to be some of her last voyages before she would retire.

Her captain, Lieutenant Colonel Sabina McKenzie, was a Kolonian-Kerthenian who had only just received command of the vessel in late December. Despite the slightly dangerous posting near the conflicts of Andolia, she was confident the ship would return without a scratch.

Her XO, Major Alexej Toman, gave her disconcerting news - a message from Kolonian operations in Tunguska: “All vessels in Etanamic and Muskovo, exercise caution, increased hostile submarine activity.”

It was a frown-inducing message. When she passed the news down to the mix of Kolonian, Iconian, and Tunguskan vessels, she assumed their command staff and sailors were frowning much the same.

They carried on into the squalls.






KNS Androv, Iconian-Tunguskan convoy, entrance to the Straits of Muskovo

February 16th, 05:39

The early morning’s weather had not changed from the night before.

It was only colder now, with more rain, more sleet, more abhorrent weather. With the warning of the night before, anti-submarine warfare officers and sailors had been working diligently to defend the convoy from a potential threat.

Their hard work was soon to pay off.

On an Iconian destroyer at the forefront of the formation, a keen ASW officer noted a pattern somewhere in the noise of the convoy. Going up the command of his vessel, they deployed their towed sonar, and sent an active ping through the formation that woke many sailors up.

There was a very clear result from the ping, however. A shape, somewhere near the thermocline, approaching the formation from the front.

Alarms went off on the Iconian ship. Frantic radio messages were sent throughout the convoy.

On the Androv, McKenzie was woken up.

Racing to the bridge in her sleepwear, she assumed command of the situation.

“All ships, flank ahead! Enemy submarine, 2’oclock!” She yelled over the radio convoy-wide radio.

Despite the engines of all ships beginning to spool to full power to get away from the danger, the submarine's commander had already gotten what they wanted.

“TORPEDO, TORPEDO!”

The right side of the Tunguskan destroyer in front of the Androv erupted into a giant pillar of water. Lookouts on the Kolonian vessel scanned the water, and even in the low visibility, they could see two heading their way.

“Decoys! Fire off the emitters, get me depth charges on the starboard side!”

It took a moment, but the decoys fired off out the back of the ship, creating huge amounts of noise, attempting to distract the torpedoes and save the ship from a direct hit. At the same time, a series of depth charges, set to explode just a few meters underwater, fired off the launcher on the starboard side.

The charges hung through the air for a few seconds, arcing upwards, before hitting the water. One. Two.

THREE! A giant column exploded where one of the torpedo trails had been seen through the fog.

There was still another one on the way, and in the water and smoke of the explosion, it had been lost to the observers. In front of them, the Tunguskan destroyer was slowing down fast, its engines already having ground to a halt to begin damage control. In the chaos, they did not radio the Androv behind them.

The officer controlling the ship saw the danger as it loomed ahead. He turned the wheel hard to the right, getting the ship on a path clear of the obstacle ahead. At that moment, a lookout on the back watched as the torpedo skimmed a dozen meters from the stern of the ship, then exploding as it smashed right into the decoys.

The Androv was showered with freezing cold water - But it had survived the attack without a scratch.

Lookouts across the convoy searched for a presumed fourth torpedo, but no sight of it was found. Running out of fuel, it must have nosed down, and began a long dive towards the seabed, miles below.

The submarine was long gone. It had turned around, and began a run away from the formation. There was no chance to fly their anti-submarine helicopters in the weather they were sailing through, as sleet built up across the freezing decks of the ships.

Getting into direct contact with the General at the Tunguskan command, McKenzie was clear on her intentions.

“Ma’am, I am requesting to detach from the formation with two Tunguskan destroyers and give chase to the submarine!”

The response was very disappointing.

“Colonel, request denied - directly assist Tunguskan destroyer, all other destroyers maintain convoy integrity and steam full ahead to nearest Tunguskan port.”

The Tunguskan destroyer was soon surrounded by support ships from the convoy, along with the KNS Androv. As the rest of the convoy steamed for safety, the submarine raced for Anderian ports.

On the ground in Tunguska, despite the weather, a trolley approached an aircraft on the ground. Rapidly unfolding its bomb bay doors, three torpedoes were attached to a series of railings. Its crew shook hands with the ground staff around them, and climbed up a white and red ladder into the cabin. They received a go ahead from the tower, noted their orders, and began a start-up proceedure for the aircraft and its equipment.

The four engines of a Kolonian P-3 Orion roared to life.

[Toonu Empire]

[Nostrapais]

A grey dusk was rising over Monchastel's Arsenal. Several warships were slowly dancing over the small waves of the new mun. First Admiral Fomitch was on the long pier, looking at the other side of the bay, towards the empty submarine shelters and docks. The last communication of the NPN Alexandre Loujine was confused and confusing, mentioning both success in attacking an enemy convoy, against its orders, and damages sustained from enemy fires necessitating a quick retreat towards Anderian waters. Knowing the ins and outs of naval warfare and its likely enemies, the admiral knew the submarine was likely tailed and hunted by extensive means. That meant radio silence for the next days, perhaps forever if the submarine was caught. The Kilo class was quite silent, and perhaps one of the most formidable part of the Nostrapaisian arsenal but it was an old model which budget constraints bared from receiving the latest upgrades in the fields of discretion, radio-communication and weaponry and damages of unknown extent could doom the ship facing some of the latest anti-submarine warfare technology.
Fomitch and the Minister of Armies were the only ones aware of the incident, and the admiral was ordered to keep it secret. The old mariner knew very well what Mersault was trying to achieve. A Dolphik, Tunguskan or Iconian fleet violating Anderian waters while pursuing an officialy non-existing ship was the perfect casus belli for finally push the large nation to fight and break the increasingly difficult to sustain stalemate at the front.
And yet, the admiral couldn't help but think about the fifty-three men and women whom family had no news from for months, and perhaps never will ever again, all of this to finally open the gate to a large scale war which would claim many more lives and ruin land for decades to come.
Fomitch sighed and kneeled over the wet concrete. Eyes closed, his face swept by the sea's cool wind, he started praying for his soldiers and their relatives.

[Beoiria]

Beoirian legislation has voted and passed a resolution to raise military spend from 1% of GDP to 1.5%. When asked, legislators have stated this was in an effort to completely modernize the military and purchase new vehicles and equipment systems from allies and neighbors, furthering partnerships and securing supply lines.

[Dolphiland]

The night is cold, like many a night before it this far north, and seems to belong entirely to the stars that shine above.

“Do you remember the day you first swore that oath?”

“To shield the Kingsrike and it’s folk, and so on.”

“Why is it that you swore that?”

But this night is unlike those before, and a dull rumble cuts through what had seemed a timeless stillness.

“What a rike is, is it’s folk, all those who live in it’s lands. That goes for the Dolfik Kingsrike as it does many others. And whilst many have lived as lawbreakers in its lands, many more have lived as sailors setting off to distant shores, childhood songs of sailing over the sea to lands unknown in their hearts, or as young lovers spending happy days amongst the wild thyme that grows in the hills, or as all those who take heart in doing honest work for the sake of their fellow folk, and as all the other sorts that make a folk, make their rike, one as fair and worth shielding as any could be.”

“At least, that’s what every young Dolfik is made to believe, for what could make one love their rike, their homeland, more than to be sung it’s songs, and told tales of the fairness of it’s way of life? And they are made to believe that, as a heart beats so that a kerb may live, so too they ought to work for and shield their rike and it’s folk so that they and their way of life may live on.”

The rumble rises, and a far off black arrow pierces through the field of stars.

“And so, when the time comes, there are many who think they ought to take up the sword, to set off for the hills where the Kingsrike meets the land of the Andics, and for the seas where the fleet sails for distant shores, all to see off the foes of the Kingsrike, so that they may never set foot on it and threaten it’s folk, it’s way of life.”

“That is why we swear that oath, not that we hate our foe, but that we have been reared to love our rike and it’s folk, and to shield them against all that may threaten them, whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes.”

The rumble rises further, into the roar of jets.

Over the Northern Icecap, 0200J

The tireless rumble of the jets was as timeless as always, such that they scant took heed of it, except when being suddenly awoken by a slap from the one sitting in the other helm seat of their craft, when it then never failed to be the first sound to make itself all too clear as they made their way further through the night sky.

“Hey, you, you’re finally awake.”

“Wasn’t asleep, just thinking.”

“Sure you were, thinking about what?”

“Why we’re here.”

“One of life’s great mysteries, isn’t it? Why are we here?”

“No no, I mean- never mind. You really pulling out your Traestanish at this time of night?”

“I’ve been learning it, getting skilled with it.”

“Like some sort of Serthenish traitor, eh?”

“Ah, whatever, what’s our time to target?”

“Well, we set off from Xihaigang about a farthing after…”

“Just give me our time according to our speed and where we’re plotted.”

“Right, how come?”

“See those lights up ahead? Looks like a Barkish borough, if we’re on time, that’s our target.”

Looking up from the glass on the board before them, they peered ahead of them into the darkness. Sure enough, the darkness which for the last several hours had been broken only by the northern lights was at last pierced by a new kind of light, that of the Barkish folk who they had flown so far north to deliver their wrath upon.

“Seems like it.”

“I didn’t think it would be so big.”

“Acus, or Ihly they say it’s called now, about two or three thousand thousand folk live there. Oil from here is the lifeblood of Barkland.”

“And we’re here to burn it.”

“Aye.”

They quickly grew nearer to the lights, and soon enough could make out the oilworks they had come to target. Target these, and the lifeblood of this land would soon be crippled, dealing a serious blow to the home of one of the foes whose men they faced in the distant lands of Baydor, a blow that could change the path of things there. The one sitting behind them, the one whose job it was to drop their load upon their target, called out;

“Readying to drop.”

“Two to three thousand thousand folk, you said?”

“Yeah, why?”

“That’s a lot, is all.”

“Having other thoughts?”

“...”

“It’s what we ought to do, for the Kingsrike.”

“Bit of a sour thought, dropping our load on that many folk.”

“Think, we have a job to do. And once we do it, Barkland will be out of this. One less foe for us. Some of their folk may die in this, and for many more it will cut off their livelihood, but it spares both us and them from all the more bloodshed them being in this would mean back home, it means thousands of thousands less dead for them and for us.”

“Yeah, but it can still feel hard to be the one doing it.”

“We’re almost over the target, ready to drop.”

“And we swore an oath to be the ones to do it, for the Kingsrike, for the folk back home. Look at me, think of them.”

“Yeah, we all swore that oath. We all did.”

He sighed, and turned his head around;

“Drop when ready.”

“Aye, dropping in seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, dropping.”

As they spoke, their load dropped down, followed soon after by a series of blasts from the land under them. As they entered a long turn to head back the way they came, they could see the flames now spouting from the oilworks they had hit. Thinking of the harm they had just done, to the folk here and their lifeblood, they could only remind themselves why they had come, and one spoke to themselves as they gazed out;

“For the Kingsrike, for our folk.”

Now behind them, Ihly burned hot beneath the cold night sky.

[Toonu Empire]

The 9th Fleet was tasked with investigating the area of unprecedented attack on civilian ships. This war crime will not be left unpunished and the instigator will be caught, Chief of Navy said. The struck Iconian ship was towed into the port in Tunguska and the evidence of the abhorrent warcrime is being investigated with other intelligence agencies and military personnel. Iconian people will not become threatened and our convoys in the area will be escorted by the redeployed 2nd and 3rd Element of the First Fleet as well as the Ninth Fleet. The Iconian government is also considering an emergency meeting with its allies to discuss the long lasting war and impact on our countries.

[Nostrapais]

It could have been just another day in the capital city of Nostrapais. The streets, in the early morning, were empty, bare for those opposing the conscription still camping in front of the various army owned buildings. Activity only truly started around six, when people were waking up. Slowly, the houses and apartments fronts illuminated. First, a few timid windows, here and there, and then, it was like a tree filled with fireflies. Light everywhere. The streets followed soon, car, bus, bike, bicycle headlights all popping on almost at once. The office buildings, factories, shops were next. And so on. The sun, then fully set, would see the streetlamps going against the general tendency, shutting down one by one after some flickering here and there.
The day, Monchastel was like any other city. Busy people walking around, faces closed to the beggars' pleas, angry people angrily shooting at each other for the slightest issue, police officers walking around nonchalantly, ignoring half the issues their training should have made them notice, cyclists dashing from collision courses to collision courses on the walkways, only avoiding the bystanders at the last second... The sole difference from the capitalist countries were the pins and, rarely, uniforms arbored by the lower party members one could spot here and there amidst the crowd.
Then, on noon, everything stopped. The facades of popular cantinas suddenly filled with workers chatting and rambling on their work, sport, news... at the sound of the state radio letting off the latest song.
And it all began again. Walk, ignored pleadings, angry shoots, nonchalance, willful ignorance, cyclists being cyclists, politics intertwining with daily life. That lasted until seven in the afternoon, when, in the polar opposite to what occurred in the morning, the lights slowly disappeared. Offices and factories first, then shops, car lights disappearing into garages, and finally the apartment and houses. Only those anarchist streetlamps went against the general movement towards darkness flickering on to bath the empty streets in their orange lights.

It could have been a normal day.

Only, Dolphikland had decided to follow the path pointed by the rebellious street appliances.

Night, for a brief minute, turned to day, illuminated by the roaring thrusters of cruise missiles. Then, after an uncourteous amount of noise in the middle of the night, fires took over the task of the light-poles. The Arsenal was ablaze, the ammunition dump shaking the ground with detonations. Its naval sibling, the military port, was not faring better as the large oil tanks, irritated by the blazing demonstration of the gunpowder, started a show of their own. The airport wasn't far behind the curve either, the wrecks of An-2s and Il-76s were throwing high jet-fuel powered flames to salute the performances of the army corps while the great glass dome of the civilian terminal caved in over the head of an unlucky night guard. Last, but not least, missed only by a few meters, the eastern aisle of the Ministry of Armies building, still in construction, had become in a matter of second, all but a memory while the spared structures harbored a singular lack of glass at their windows and the road, a brand new and large pothole.

Like any public services, the sirens, never used before, started blaring after the main event, waking up exactly nobody. In the meantime, poor firefighters raced to meet their doom aboard their red trucks while stunned sailors and airmen, those left alive at least, rushed towards their patrol vessels and aircrafts, or what was left of them.

[Ostreich1]

TAU KICARI UNION PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT

After working tirelessly since the Dolfik attack on Tuesday, we are proud to announce that we have fixed our computer systems and are ready to begin our regular news service once again. We now have confirmation from the Ministry of Defence that the missile attacks last Tuesday were from the Dolfik military and we have confirmed reports that our ally Nostrapais was also attacked at the same time. There are also confirmed reports that the power grid in the Kül Yarı Republic going down was due to a cyberattack that was likely also of Dolfik origin or from one of their allies. The current confirmed death toll from the attack is twelve service members killed from a cruise missile hitting a military barracks, and fifty three more wounded in other attacks around the Union. On the day of the attack several Barkadian stealth fighters arrived in Tau Kicar and are currently awaiting orders from the Barkadian military about whether they should return to defend Barkadia from any further attacks or continue on towards Baydor.

Currently there is the largest anti war protest in Kicari history outside the Oçraşu Building in Qazan, where the Tau Kicari Council meets, demanding that the Union cease the war in Baydor. One of our reporters is currently on the ground and has interviewed several protesters. Here is what a some of them had to say.

"Our leaders have abandoned the long standing policy of neutrality with the world in favour of aligning with the socialist world, and now look at what has happened within a year of doing that. Our sons are dying on a foreign battlefield, in a country many of us have never even heard of, all so our leaders can gain some concessions with the Anderians and Barkadians. And now due to their greedy, incompetent actions we have been attacked on our homeland for the first time in over a century! The War in Baydor is not our war and these 'leaders' need to be removed from power if they refuse to understand this fact."

"I am from Prireçnıy where our politicians and leaders have been condemning this war and the socialist parties decisions to destroy our neutrality and align with the socialist nations of the world from the very beginning. We were mocked by them on TV, and in the parliaments for being backwards, and for stealing from the people to serve corporate interests. And yet it was the socialists who destroyed our neutrality, bringing us into a pointless war just so they can get free military handouts from the Barkadians and bend over for the Anderians in the hopes that they may get more money and support from them. I say it is the socialists who are the truly greedy ones, as the capitalists never got us into any messes like this for the interests of foreign nations, and certainly never sent our boys overseas to die in a war we had no part in."