The Continental Wars (IC, New Ausozera Only)

by **Forest State** » Tue Oct 31, 2017 12:59 pm

Golden Empire of Cemeralia: Official Communique
For the United Remnants of America

To the leadership of the United Remnants of America,

It has come to our attention that your ally, Aegypt, is being threatened by the nation of Azenyanistan. We find the Azen intrusion in Aegyptian airspace to be a problem and a threat to our own interests, and we believe that your nation may feel the same way. Our interest is in a free Aegypt and a Syrnistan that isn't threatened by Azen expansionism, for reasons that we will not reveal until a future time. Because your nation is the top influence in Aegypt, we have decided to contact you to suggest a joint show of force around the border, which would also publicly declare our support for the Aegyptian cause and serve as a warning that Cemeralian interests are against Azenyanistan's recent moves.

The contents of this message, of course, are of the utmost confidentiality. Should you accept, we will move some of our own jets into Aegypt for the purposes of the display.

Regards,

The House of Tavaros, Rulers of the Golden Empire of Cemeralia

by **The United Remnants of America** » Tue Oct 31, 2017 4:41 pm

To: Cemeralia
From: United Remnants of America
Subject: Re:Official Communique
BCC: jcanis, bsamson, lkonrad, joneal, bmcaffee, dmiles

Sir or Madame,

The Cemeralian consternation with the current situation surrounding Azenyanistan is noted. In addition, I would like to thank you for your deference to the Remnant relationship with Aegypt. Aegypt is a developing nation that is currently going through a domestic disturbance and is in no state to stand alone against Azen aggression. While as a nation we have no interest currently in Syrnistan, we do agree that the national sovereignty of Syrnistan and Agrabah are of importance. The regional stability has been put at risk due to the actions of a militaristic Azenyanistan. Earlier in the week, a team of advisors and experts were sent to Aegypt to meet and advise the new leadership. Since then, with Azenyanistan's military buildup, as well as with the airspace invasion by Azen military aircraft, I have deemed it directly within our interest to dispatch a military force under the banner of our Contracted Personnel Division. While this was originally reliant upon the reports of our advisors, I have issued this order in response to recent developments that threaten to destabilize the region.

While the Unitary State of the United Remnants of America and her client nations do not require assistance in keeping our distant ally safe from Azen military aggression, we would be remiss to not accept your offer of support. Let it be today that Cemeralia and the URA join hands in the interest of global stability and peace. Remnant-Cemeralian relations shall begin with a joint message that military aggression will not be tolerated in this world. I only hope that other nations stand up and join us.

Wishes,

Gabriel Drake, President of the United Remnants of America and Greater Remnant Co-Prosperity Sphere

by **Imperial Valaran** » Wed Nov 01, 2017 10:32 am

A Test of Flame

Sathren sat in thought. He had taken a different car to Crien and Varkalen, and was now only surrounded by the Ambassadorial Guard (rifles stowed safely in the boot, but pistols bulky and obvious). They were making swift passage to Nusayastatt. Cars were flooding out of the capital; few were driving towards it, and those that did made way for the convoy of black vehicles, each with fluttering pennants and other diplomatic symbols. The outskirts of Nusayastatt could be seen in the distance. Sonic booms could be periodically heard above them, even from within the car. The airforce was rather busy, it seemed.

Sathren took out his phone. Ministry issued, and encrypted to the best of their ability. Ex-Colonel Flint might have a back-door installed, but that aside, it was as secure as one could reaosnably hope for. Sathren typed in one digit and picked the first number that appeared. He hoped reception was good during a coup.

“Sathren, I take it you’ve heard.” A voice sounded, cool and sharp.

“I have.”

“I want to re-route Eric. We can’t have him meeting Dune’s opposition like this.”

The phone was silent for a moment. “Agreed. We should re-route him to the secondary location.”

“I worry that Aegypt isn’t safe enough.”

“We’ll message Bugaboo in advance. We need to do it to get him access anyway, we might as well ask for a guard too.”

“I trust you to make the arrangements.”

“Naturally, You’re away from the pulse, and you have your own matters to attend to.” Sathren found that curt. “In fact, how is our dear foreign secretary?”

Sathren was reminded of the flight. Helen Crien was a cold, blunt woman. She only tolerated Sathren out of professionalism, and probably weakness. They had never really seen eye to eye, though he had taken care to minimise direct conflict. They were too far apart —on everything — to respect anything more than a wary neutrality, and often much less than that. He had made this clear at many opportunities. To him, Crien was a sanctimonious bitch. She was simultaneously grasping and imperious, entirely out of her depth but totally unwilling to let anyone guide her. A person who rather sink from spite, than let herself be carried to the shore.

But something had shifted in that conversation. Nothing dramatic, barely a momentary flash of heat between their mutual dislike. But he had glimpsed a Crien behind her ice and pitted iron, a person of deep commitment and buried longing. Sathren had found an echo of that same person within himself. He had not had the time to think on it. But now, he found it difficult to say what he always had on her. The disdain caught in his throat.

“She is… perturbed,” he managed, eventually.

“Is that all you can discern?” the voice replied. Querulous.

“Perturbed encompasses quite a lot.”

“Sounds rather vague to me.”

“I’ll be sure to phone you when I figure out telepathy,” Sathren replied. “She’s as skittish as she was before, under the same frosty veneer we all know and loathe.”

The voice seemed unconcerned. “As long as she’s not getting cold feet about the venture.”

“I’m here to make sure that won't hapen.” Sathren let irritation into his tone.

“Yes, but events seem to be outpacing us.” The voice breathed static. “I’d rather we were deployed already. That way she and Hesseren would be tied to events.”

I’d rather not put our soldiers in harm’s way just to get the Government agree on something. “There’s still the small matter of who we deploy for. And where.”

“Get them sailing to Azenyanistan. We can always re-route them to Syrnistan while sailing. Or deploy a tripwire force by plane. But they need to be deployed ASAP.”

Sathren shifted in his seat, as if uncomfortable. “Things are just too risky to dive in. I need to get a better understanding of what Dune’s situation is, what is loyal to her, etc. There’s too many unknown variables—too many risks to commit us right now.”

The voice sighed. “Sathren, in my years as ambassador, the most important thing to know was when to plunge your hand into the fire, and when to step back from the flames.”

Sathren blinked in slight disbelief. “You’re saying that I’m misreading this? That my analysis is flawed?”

“Analytically, you’re sound. I’m not describing a point of theory. This isn’t something that can be taught. It need to be experienced, in the field.” The voice paused, as if drawing breath. “But yes: you are too risk averse. Caution is right and fine in many things. But not here. You need to learn when to when to put your hand into the flames.”

Sathren,’s face grew tight. “Fine. I’ll see what we can negotiate in the meantime.”

“Alright. Good luck, ambassador.”

“And to you, Seward.”

Sathren put the phone down, but kept it in his hand. He gazed out of the window, but his eyes did not register what was passing by. He still held a slightly stunned expression.

His car swerved suddenly to the side of the road. Sathren looked up. “Driver, what is happening?”

“The Foreign Secretary’s car flashed me and pulled over.” The man replied. A Ministry driver. His accent placed him as working class from Varhaven, with its odd Varanski lilts and thick burr. He pulled up in front of Crien’s car. The Guard got out, and opened the door for Sathren. He straightened his suit, and breathed in the Azeni dust.

Crien waved him inside as he walked to her care. Clara made space for him, but it was oddly spacious inside. Secluded as well, like a cocoon. The tinted windows made it difficult to see the outskirts of Nusayastatt.

“I have a call from Dune. I want you both in on this,” Crien explained to Clara and Sathren in her abrupt tones. They both nodded. She placed the phone on a desk between them, and replayed the first part of the message.

“I’m Aksesyr Dune ur Kaiteriza. I'm sorry for being late but I'm afraid that the Air Force is conducting a coup. I'm with a friend now. We're on the way to the place we agreed to meet one another. I really hope you do not mind. However, if things go wrong, do you have any boys and girls who can kick some ass?”

Then Crien hit unmute. “It is good to finally talk, Aksesyr Dune,” Crien replied. “I am Foreign Secretary Helen Crien. We completely understand your situation, and have no issue postponing talks until the crisis is over. We wish you luck.” Sathren remind silent. All good so far.

Crien’s voice changed tone. “However, I am sorry, Aksesyr, but we cannot personally intervene in an internal dispute. Even if it is a coup, we have no formal right to intervene, and cannot intrude on national sovereinigty. I am sor-”

“Put the phone on hold.” Sathren called sharply.

Crien looked up. “Sathren, I can’t just-”

“I’m sorry Aksesyr, just one moment.” Sathren reached over and pressed the hold button.

The Secretary’s eyes flashed. “Sathren what-”

“This is the perfect opportunity to help.”

“This is absolutely not the time or place. We have no right to simply order our soldiers in-”

He interrupted her again. “Look, Helen, I get it. You’re cautious. Things need to be deeply considered on before they are acted on. But sometimes, in diplomacy, you need to act before you can sift through all the information. Its risky, but if you wait to sit around and deliberate, then the opportunity will be gone.”

“I’m not authorising deployments on a hunch-”

“You support Dune, right? She’s untested, but she has the right morals to lead this nation forwards.”

“But she might not be leader in half an hour. How will you advance our interests then?”

“Helen, this is true. This goes against how I operate.” He looked straight at her. “But she needs our help. Right now. We have a single moment to provide that, and she will remember if we did not step up.” Sathren sighed. “If this does not work, I will take full responsibility and resign. You can pin this all on me. Most since its true — it is all on me.”

“Sathren,” she spoke slowly. “I appreciate your sentiments, but if I was to do this, if I was to authorise such a thing, it would not only be your name and responsibility. It would be mine.” She paused a moment, and looked to her right. “Clara, what do you think?”

The girl seemed shocked. “I, uh…”

“Child don’t dither. If you have a view, speak it.” Crien’s voice was sharp and fast. She conjure iron into it like nothing, and cause to it lash at someone. A voice of authority.

Clara looked uncertainly at Sathren. He gave no comfort in his gaze. She looked back at Crien. “I believe in democracy. And don’t like coups. I think if we seriously intended to help Azen at all, we should do it now.”

“Fine.” Crien took the phone from Sathren. “And for god’s sake Sathren, next trip don’t interrupt me four times in a row.”

“Sorry. Its just-”

“Yes I know.” Crien interrupted him. “You’re used to being in charge.” She threatened to smile. He face sort of did, but it looked somewhere between an expression of amusement or pained exasperation. “Just don’t do it again.”

Sathren suppressed a smile. “Of course, Minister.”

Crien nodded. She reactivated the call. “I apologise for the interruption, Aksesyr Dune. The Valaran Empire will offer any assistance it needs to your administration. I shall issue a public statement shortly.”

“As for military means, we have a standardised response timetable. If you give us 48 hours, we can deploy a fighter wing with refuelling aircraft, and up to two infantry companies. The transports would only require soft landing strips, but the fighters would need airbases. This force is at your disposal. However, we would need an accurate list of hostile targets and capabilities from you. We would also need access either to a friendly or civilian airbase, or to use a third-party base like the one at SARAz.” Shr recited the operational doctrine by rote. It was a standard Valaran response package, normally used to respond to a crisis in the colonies, but it seemed equally applicable here.

Crien continued. “I also have two squads of Ambassadorial Guard with us now. If it is truly needed, we can divert them to you immediately. However we are still some thirty minutes away for Nusayastatt, and I am not sure what assistance they may be.” Crien neglected to mention that it might place the delegation itself in danger. Or that the Guard were expressly not to be used offensively, let alone contracted out to other states. Sathren still felt a sliver of vindication. It was his suggestion to bring them, even if he had not meant for the soldiers to see actual combat. So, essentially his vindication was irrational, an accident of fate, not deliberate planning. But he still felt it.

“It is up to you, Aksesyr.” They waited for the Aksesyr to reply. Everyone was silent. Crien stared at the phone. Sathren looked away, back out of the window. More booms were heard in the distance.

Clara looked between them both. It was her first real diplomatic crisis. Sathren almost smiled. So very different from the journal articles. It was always much more nerve-wracking when you saw the decision process unfold in agonising detail, and glimpsed messiness and confusion of everything first hand. Worse still when you were dropped into a warzone.

And we are in the thick of it now. At least Seward’s concerns on caution were now irrelevant. Sathren had more than plunged in. He had taken Crien’s hand with his own, and stuck both into the fire. He waited to see if he would be burned for his folly.

by **Pakiranistan** » Wed Nov 01, 2017 5:37 pm

Presidential Palace, Malsuf Province, Aegypt

"I see, I too do not wish to move into Azenyanistan as i-" before Bugaboo was interrupted by his satellite phone ringing, Bugaboo sighed before walking over to his desk, taking a pause before lifting up the phone "Yes?" answered Bugaboo before the a voice on the opposite end of the line spoke urgently "Very good, issue the contract in Syrnistan" replied Bugaboo.

Bugaboo turned towards Grey once again "Well, my men just shot down two Azeni fighter craft and we are sending some forces to recover them, would you like to join us?" stated Bugaboo firmly and clearly.

The man in the brown suit finally walked back into the office, the sound of dress shoes making knocks on the ground. He this time time however, was missing his actual suit coat thus revealing his two shoulder holsters holding what seemed to be a revolver in one holster and a handgun in another, the mans shirts top button was unbuttoned and his tie loosend "Bugaboo, they want more control of the situation" the man said whiping his face with his hankerchief while leaning over with his hands on Bugaboo's desk "They are sending spooks and special forces to monitor the situation, at around 0830 your going to have to get them a ride to here" stated the man all the while taking a seat and pulling out a cigar.

Syrnistan and Azenyanistani Outskirts, Syrnistan

The cold desert wind blew gently through the small town located on the edge of Syrnistan towards the Azenyanistani border, two B.T.I contractors stood guard outside of a walled compound beside their Land Rover Defenders, watching for any sign of trouble... if there was any, they would be quick to get rid of it. Inside the compound however, a briefing took place in a room with a white board and a map of the general area. Lead Contractor Michael Hatfield stood in the center of room in the front having been diverted from his earlier mission to lead the one being currently briefed.

"Alright fellars, we just got a personal contract issued from the top, which for us means more money, but for the sorry S.O.B on the recieving end it means hell" Hatfield paused for a moment as the contractors in the room shot up in the room, cheering and agreeing with him drowning out any other sound, Hatfield raised his and lowered it in a quieting motion to settle down the uproar, before grabbing a dry erase marker and writing on the white board as he spoke "So just in about 3 to 5 hours ago, our boys in the Aegyptian Army shot down two Azenyanistani fighter jets here in Syrnistan, we've been contracted to get visual confirmation as well as to recieve any survivors from the shotdown as they would provide valuble intelligence for us" Hatfield moved away from the white board, positioning himself beside the map and circling a area of the map with a red sharpie "So according to calculations made by the Aegyptians.. God Bless their souls... We believe the two planes to have crashed in this general area, give or take 6-7 miles apart and as such will be split into two teams to locate both pilots if they are still alive that is" stated Hatfield standing at parade rest in the center of the room looking over the B.T.I contractors "Any questions?" said Hatfield firmly when no one responded Hatfield dismissed the group "Alright, go get geared up and meet me at the vehicles"

Outside of the building in the compound stood Githur IMVs with RWS systems ranging from 12.7mm machineguns to 40mm automatic grenade launchers as well as ATGM systems in case the group encountered heavy resistance, however the frosting on the cake stood in a corner of the compound covered with cloth under a shed stood two BTR-3 swith a 90mm gun mounted on them along with two ATGMs placed on each side of the turrets for a total of four ATGMs. The driver of the first APC climbed inside making his way to the drivers seat, as he did he turned on the ignition letting the vehicle charge before firing up the 450 hp turbo-diesel engine, the APC made a few menacing grunts as it started up blowing smoke up into the air, the same was done for each of the Githur IMVs to heat up the engines for the journey ahead, soon the contractors arrived from the armory replacing their usual field caps with helmets and carrying heavy weapons ranging from MGs to anti tank launchers, the contractors boarded their vehicles in a uniform fashion based on their team colors save for the BTR-3s which had 12 man squads embarked on them, some sitting inside while others sat outside ontop of the APC, the turbo charged engines whistled as they were put into gear and driven out of the compound with one BTR-3 leading the convoy and the other taking rear guard duty.

As the convoy began its journey, out on a makeshift airstrip a Mi-17 gunship armed with rockets stood with its rotors cutting peacefully through the air like butter lifting debris from the ground around the helicopter, B.T.I contractors armed with a 12.7mm anti material rifle stood outside waiting for the go to board the helicopter, they were there to provide long range overwatch for the convoy and provide fire support with the rocket pods on the helicopter as well as their rifle for which they held explosive tipped rounds and armour piercing bullets. The contractors soon recieved the go from the crew chief and boarded setting up a steady sling to place their rifle on for stability, the helicopter leaned slightly to the side as it took off and began flying towards the crash area.

by **The United Remnants of America** » Wed Nov 01, 2017 11:04 pm

Commander Susan Grey

Malsuf Province, Aegypt

9/25/2017 - 13:00

While Bugaboo spoke on his satellite phone, Grey's on phone vibrated, causing her to look at it. A short text had been sent from Major Astra Galinsky, the CPD task force commander that was in charge of the overall compilation of forces that was to be sent to Aegypt. Her text was simple; It was a notification that they'd been mobilized ahead of schedule due to Azen invasion. Grey quickly forwarded the message through a group chat app that her team was using and slid the phone back into her pocket as Bugaboo hung up his phone.

Grey nodded to the Aegyptian leader, "Of course we'd love to join you. However, if we go into the field, I request a handgun for each of my team so we can-" Grey was stopped short as the man barged back into the office. He looked more disheveled than previously. He quickly gave Bugaboo a report that Grey only half understood, and when he finished, she began questioning the report, "Spooks? Special Forces? Who are you working with, Bugaboo?"

by **Azenyanistan** » Thu Nov 02, 2017 1:09 am

Safehouse, Nusayastatt

Azenyanistan

Tereterei was worried. Not for herself. She had lost her care for her own safety. As a high ranking Agent of the G171 and the only one responsible for the detachment that should protect the Aksesyr and her Cabinet, all her worry was for Dune. The Cabinet came second to her worries and her men came third and finally, the rest came fourth up to the last.

A Price child, she had the other responsibility of continuing the family tradition of fighting for the government of Azenyanistan. As she stood before Racer, which was what they called the Aksesyr or President, she had to take a look at her fellow agents.

Be they great Special Field Agents or common Security Agents (or simply Agents), she regarded them kindly. As kindly as Dune would for her friends before she became the leader of a nation undergoing a coup, a war and skirmishes with their neighbors.

She heard her leader say "Brief me." And she knew that it was her time to speak. So Tereterei had to step forward and say "Sir, we have enough weapons and ammunition and our wounded have been attended to. However, I am making a strong suggestion that we all move out of this safehouse in order to meet with the Valarans. We would be safer with them. And that way, we could also get the help of those loyal to us. The Army, the Navy, the Guards, the rest of the G171 and everyone else except the neighbors, the rivals and the Air Force."

She continued after Dune gave her a nod "I also strongly suggest that you contact your friends when you were still a racer."

Dune nodded and raised a hand to signal to her that she was going to speak this time. She said quite quickly "And I am still a racer. A gambler, a gangster and an owner of a small electronics shop."

The agent paused.

Then Dune continued "I accept your suggestions, Tereterei, but I can't simply ask them for help. You know how things are in the criminal world. The world I just came from."

The agent nodded but said "Yes, Aksesyr, I understand, but I am very sure that they would help you out anyway. You have done a lot for them, I know, and I am pretty sure that you owe them nothing more. They do."

Dune thought about it and nodded, placing her chin on her hands as the other agents were silently told to leave the room by Tereterei. She waited for the two of them to be left alone when she said "I'll make the call but after I do so, I want you to tell your men NOT to engage anyone who is wearing the colors of their respective organizations. And show some respect so they could return the same."

Jackpot, the Chief Agent thought. She nodded and smiled before she took a satellite phone from her belt and handed it over to Dune. Racer gently took it, dialed someone and then brought the phone to her ear as she waited for a reply.

It happened in just a few seconds. Dune had to speak for a few minutes until she finally returned the phone to Tereterei and said "We're on. The 7V7, ASORA, 17th and Saragons are coming to help us."

"Who did you talk to?" Wondered Agent Tereterei Price. Dune answered with a naughty grin "Hood Priestess, Sulit Kani, Fan Fan and Saragonita."

"Where is Eve?"

"Eve is in Reutoa. She's still exacting her revenge." Dune said flatly. The agent could only nod in horror. Eve Saragon was the matriarch of the Saragon Family. And the only survivor of the massacre that claimed the lives of her daughters and most of her best men.

She was hunting down every single Reutoan man and woman who conducted the massacre against her family, be they related to her by blood or by fire.

Afterwards, Dune stood up and reminded the agent "Get the men ready, Price."

Green Eyes, which was a nickname for Price, nodded and went out of the room. As she walked through the safehouse, passing by agents who were standing guard, she instructed the rest via radio

"This is Green Eyes, repeat, this is Green Eyes. Racer has given authorization. Repeat, authorization has been given by Racer. We are a go, go, go. We are leaving this place. Get everything ready and look out for friendlies wearing colors on their bodies. They're friendlies. Further instructions come later. Green Eyes OUT."

As she got to one of the living rooms of the safehouse, where some Special Field Agents like her were reloading their weapons and empty magazines, she spotted two of her own men on the same detail for Dune.

Immediately, they stood to nod to her but she shook her head and let them remain seated. One was Vanquarian, another was Esgonian. Ironic. But it was great that the G171 attracted foreigners alongside Azens.

She wasn't there for them yet. She had to get her own weapons and ammo ready. So she went over to one of the weapons lockers (Every safehouse was, on the order of the G171 Director and Chiefs, supplied with full weapons lockers.) and began to browse for a suitable set of gear.

In a few moments, she was able to acquire an FN MAG, an UZI and another radio. She also took extra ammunition. She then changed her mind about the MAG and gave it up to another agent who was also looking for some more gear.

Everything was in short order. And soon enough, even Racer was ready. Some agents couldn't hide their smiles when they saw her sporting knee pads, a belt for a Glock and extra ammunition, a combat vest and, in her hands, a CAR-15.

Fortunately for her, that earned another smile from Tereterei, who tossed a spare helmet to her leader. She then told her "I hope you remember how to fight and survive."

"I remember." Simply said Dune. She then asked her protectors, who were as ready as she was "Shall we leave?" And they all nodded.

As G171 protocol demanded, Dunes detail was supposed to be supported by all other G171 agents with them. So they left the safehouse by groups of ten. Dunes group would be the second to leave. Once a group was out of the safehouse, they would get into the helicopters and vehicles, while the friendly paratroopers secured the area and kept it until everyone was out and they could leave themselves.

And fortunately for them, the help that Dune requested from her criminal friends has arrived. When they did, she rushed to meet and embrace a dark skinned woman who wore a combat vest over a silver hoodie and carried a Galil. The two said to each other, with Dune initiating

"What's up, Hood Priestess?"

"I'm all good, Duney. You need my help, right?"

Dune nodded and the two began to greet each other with the signals of their gang, the 7V7. It consisted of the both of them throwing up both hands to form a big V then dropping one hand to let their other hand create a five then a two. Then the both of them laughed at each other and embraced again. Once that was done, arrangements were made to get the Aksesyr and everyone else out of the area and to the Valarans.

Before the hostile paratroopers of the rebellious Air Force could even catch up to them.

by **Pakiranistan** » Thu Nov 02, 2017 3:58 pm

Presidential Palace, Malsuf Province, Aegypt

The man glanced at Bugaboo who nodded to him, the man tilt his head towards Grey before speaking "Our benovelent host here Bugaboo, is working with my nation of Pakiranistan. We've helped organize this coup in order to destablize Azenyanistan in order to further our interests" the mans and Bugaboo's pagers rung as he got up.

He reached towards his back slipping the pager off of his belt, glancing at it before walking over towards where Bugaboo stood "You see, my nation believes these Azenyanistani pilots to be of great value and thus want to get boots on the ground to retrieve them. Bugaboo's men are on their way towards the sites and we as in you and your men and me are going to rendevous with the convoy" stated the man.

Bugaboo walked over towards a drawer in his office, sliding each individual file to reveal all sorts of handguns, SMGs, rifles and body protection "Ms Grey, please.. don't be shy, choose whatever your comfortable with" said bugaboo warmly while gesturing towards the drawer, outside the sound of a helicopter getting closer could be heard.

Tashanit International Airport, Malsuf Province, Aegypt

An Embraer R-99 jet gently touched down on the runway of TIA, the jet cut its speed before taxing off the runway towards its designated parking spot. As the side door of the jet opened, the stairs were lowered and four men wearing dark brown service dress uniforms, one having an eye patch over his head climbed down the steps carrying what seemed to be black suit cases. They themselves were followed by twelve men wearing desert striped military fatigues, the men carried ruck sacks on their backs and gun cases in their hands, they followed the men in the service dress uniforms towards a helicopter which had its engines on and was ready to takeoff before their jet landed. The group boarded the helicopter and soon it lifted off and began making its way towards the Presidential Palace.

The helicopter made haste using full speed and flying somewhat low to the ground to reach its destination. The man with the eye patch whipped out his pager and sent a pager to the man in the palace to notify him of their arrival.

by **The United Remnants of America** » Thu Nov 02, 2017 9:09 pm

Commander Susan Grey

Malsuf Province, Aegypt

9/25/2017 - 13:05

The other CPD commanders stepped forward with Grey. Each one grabbed a vest and quickly slipped them on over their clothes, then each grabbed a handgun and slipped them into their pants. Grey nodded to Haile and Ramirez, "Can both of you grab two jackets for the others? Jacobs and I will grab guns for them." Each of the other three nodded and grabbed the extra vests and weapons while Grey nodded towards Bugaboo and the Pakirani man, "Don't worry, this is enough for us for now. I don't expect you to drop us into a combat zone." She glanced to make sure the others were ready, "Well, after you two. We'll follow."

by **Die Erworbenen Namen** » Thu Nov 02, 2017 10:51 pm

International Waters, halfway between Azenyanistan and USSDEN
Task Force Sierra
Carrier Group Enterprise
NNS NCC-101 Enterprise

"The recent situation in Azenyanistan has degraded even further, with reports of conflict in the capital now coming o-"

"Turn this shit off." Captain Joeseph Waters ordered from his commanf chair in the Citadel. His own personal viewing screen, one of which was situated off to his right hand side, cut off the video of the news channel. With a few motions and a wave of his hand, the window that held the news feed was deleted, bringing the screens display back to the current ship statuses.

"Not quite enjoying the news, sir?" A feminine voice in his ear asked him politely, almost worriedly. "Is that surprise I see? I know for a fact it can't be at the info, sir. We went over that together, after all. You knew this beforehand."

"Oh do you now?" Waters grumbled from his chair, his right foot now resting on his left knee. "Yes, I am surprised and angry. Surprised that they would do this, surprised that the info leaked so fast, and angry that I can't do a single thing about it right now."

"Well, sir, we are moving at our best speed, and you could always dispatch your faster ships to reach Azen faster." The voice again spoke in his ear.

"Are you mocking me, E?" The captain asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, sir. Only pointing out how stupid it is to preoccupy yourself with things you can't control right now." 'E' replied. "We are still only halfway to the continent, and if you were to be this anxious for the days and days ahead of us in this journey, I don't think I would be able to bear it."

"Mm. You're right about one thing: worrying about it will do me fuck all right now." Waters grumbled in reply, tapping his fingers on the armrest. He was growing restless, being stuck in the same chair constantly with not much to do at that time, and he needed a break. "Enterprise, transfer command data to mobile, and assign temporary command to Commander."

"Yes sir," Enterprise responded, changing the personal screens on the chair to blank when the captain stood up. The Commander, sitting in a command chair right next to him saluted the captain, then returned to his duties. "To the mess hall, sir?"

"Ah, no. Just the usual place this time, E. Have a hot cup ready for me please," Waters replied, stretching his body when he stood up. He cracked his neck, his back, and his fingers before turning to his Commander, saying: "I'll be out for a bit. Feel free to retire when your replacement arrives, and notify me of any important issues that crop up, as usual." Then walking out the door of the citadel.

"Just the cup, sir? Nothing in it?" Enterprise chided

"Go stuff it."

"It's being prepared as we speak. Oh, one more thing, sir. The reserve groups we sent ahead of us are at Azen and are asking for orders, sir. Their requests just came through on encoded channels."

"Oh? So soon? Very well." Joeseph muttered as he walked through the main hall of the massive capital ship he was currently on. "Orders are as follows: establish presence around port opening. Demand any hostile aircraft that are on approach to stand down before they reach weapons range; engage as last resort. Provide fire support for ground forces as requested by units."

"That all, sir?" Enterprise asked as he boarded the elevator, selected the bridge, and leaned back against the wall.

"Yes. That's all they can do as of right now. We'll wait for further orders from Central before I give any more." Waters replied. "Don't include the last part."

by **Pakiranistan** » Fri Nov 03, 2017 9:59 am

Presidential Palace, Malsuf Province, Aegypt

While Grey and the other CPD officers in the room were gearing up, Bugaboo had taken off his coat and slipped a vest over his dress shirt, adjusting it around his shoulder holster for easier access to his revolver "Well then, lets see if I still have it then?" said Bugaboo jokingly.

The sound of the helicopter got closer and could now be heard as if it were right on top of them, Bugaboo and Pakirani man led the way with the CPD officers following after to the rooftop via a eccentric flight of steps, as they had reached the rooftop of the palace they were greeted by Aegyptian soldiers, one of whom quickly called the others to attention before being told to ease up by Bugaboo. Out in the distance another helicopter could be seen moving quickly towards the palace "Theres the spooks" said Bugaboo gesturing toward the helicopter while Aegyptian soldiers loaded their helicopter with weapons cases and supplies.

By the time the Aegyptians were done the helicopter had reached the palace and stood above them hovering in place before slowly descending to the palace rooftop. The side door of the helicopter opened as soon as it touched down revealing crouched masked men wearing military fatigues who threw their bags onto the ground before stepping out themselves, the men quickly and methodically began gearing up, putting on their chest rigs, helmets, leg holsters, kneepads, gloves and zipping open their gun cases to reveal their modified rifles. As the men were gearing up the four men wearing the service dress uniforms stepped out with the one wearing the eye patch walking over to Bugaboo and the CPD officers "Senior Agent Rahimuddin Ahmed, we'll meet again soon" said the man gesturing towards the CPD officers before walking away with the other nicely dressed men.

The men in the military fatigues nodded towards the Pakirani man from before "Alright then, lets go shall we?" the man said before climbing into the helicopter followed by Bugaboo, the CPD officers and the men in the military fatigues. The helicopter took off gently rocking to one side before the pilot lifted the nose down gently and began flying towards Syrnistan, the border authorities were paid off already leaving little room for trouble. The helicopter cut travel time by 75% resulting in the team crossing over Syrnistan in an hour and 25 minutes.

by **Azenyanistan** » Fri Nov 03, 2017 11:17 pm

Sala

"Activate Sala." Were the words that Slateface dreaded to hear. As the officer in charge of all loyalist forces in Azenyanistan, she didn't want to hear that anytime. But it was inevitable. And it was happening all around her. Planes kept on taking off, circling around or striking targets that belonged to forces loyal to Dune.

She left the tent and looked up. A pair of Apaches armed with AAMs were conducting their patrol. Around her, her own troops were rushing, hurling themselves into vehicles as more helicopters, belonging to the Army, not the Air Force fortunately, entered her camp and brought in more troops. She needed a lot of things and more, more men.

She returned to her tent in order to continue communicating with the other officers. The Navy remained loyal. The G171 and AIG and other agencies remained loyal. The ACP remained loyal. And everyone else except the damned Air Force remained loyal.

She wondered what would happen again. She wondered if the world will do so much more... She wondered if this was the death of her own country.

She wondered if there would be anything left to go back to.

She shook the thoughts out of her head and said to her fellow officers, taking charge, as the Protocol issued by the Aksesyr said so

"Ladies, gentlemen. Sala is now in effect. We are going to fight and arrest the Air Force.

We will be moving into the airbases and shut them all down. We will tell all planes to land and to stop attacking. And we will move our forces to the areas where the damned paratroopers are getting into. We have a day and a night. Or else the world takes everything we have."

Slateface then sighed and sat back as her officers nodded and discussed amongst themselves. She tuned every noise out as she focused on what she had to lose.

A home. A family. A banner to fight for. A great reputation. A whole lot of men.

A day and a night. Could it be done?

When the discussion was over, after a long hour, she had the final say. She said

"Let's get this over with."

Dune watched the events unfolding outside of her car as Agent Price drove her, her sister and another agent through the streets of Nusayastatt. The markets were empty. The parks were empty. The offices full of workers watching her through their own windows. Homes were full of families who were too scared to go out. And parachutes in the sky. Helicopters sped over buildings. And planes circled the city.

A lot to lose. A lot to repair. Things falling apart.

The Aksesyr whispered to her sister "Do you think our country is going to die? Here? And right now?" The Arshay Seyser shrugged and said "It's coming apart. Our country is coming apart. That is what I think." She looks out too then returns to speaking to her elder sister "Your job, my job. Our jobs. Loyalists. To the end, Duney?"

Dune shrugged and said "To the bitter end."

And then she closed her eyes and waited for the convoy to reach the town where she was supposed to speak with the Valarans. She had already told them that they would be on their way.

Lieutenant Varakadisha flew over the border in her Pyrelight. It was a nap of the earth flight. Very dangerous. But she had done such flights again and again and again. She had done it for fifty times in Azenyanistan. And now, she and nine other Pyrelights were leading the attack. They had to fly extremely low to avoid enemy radar and anti-aircraft fire. While it was sure that people on the ground could see them, hear them and definitely report them, she didn't care.

She was in the Air Force. And her loyalty was to someone else besides Dune. No, it was to Ayza. She was still alive. She had taken control of the Air Force. She didn't know how, she didn't know why, but she wanted this. A war.

Varakadisha expected the rest of the Air Force to follow. To send at least some F-16s with bombs and A-10s to attack ground targets and ECRs to destroy enemy air defense. But in these Pyrelights...fast, small and deadly, just like mosquitos, it was all amazing.

She gave her fellow fliers a reminder "Silver Birds, this is Silver Bird One, we have entered Syrnistani airspace. Our target: the Capital."

"ATGM TEAM! 3000 METERS! IDENTIFY!"

"Target identified. On the way!"

The 127mm cannon of the Desert Runner opened up. Out flew a SHE round that, after a very short time of running through the air, struck the barricade and turned the Air Force ATGM team into a shower of blood and limbs. To the right of Sergeant Mavama, two more Desert Runners ran over the chain link fence surrounding the airbase.

The speed demons made their way to the runway, shooting at a pair of F-14s that attempted to take off. The explosions they caused were enough for the tanks to ram their way into the hangars without any more harassing fire from the Air Force personnel guarding the area.

Mavama ordered her tank to go forward into the airbase and soon enough, she was engaging shaken Air Force girls shooting their rifles and pistols at her tank. Some used grenades but they were not enough when it came to her armor. She promptly cut the bitches down while more tanks entered the base, with infantry women taking the wounded or surrendering Air Force personnel and cuffing them up. Those that tried to keep on fighting when the loyalists stepped in were simply cut down with machine gun fire or stunned with multiple tasers.

"We need more forces to make the arrests and to hurt our Air Force enough to get them to stop." Said a Captain from the Army. Another plane flew over them at a very low altitude, almost throwing the tent over their heads off. A Major from the Reeseeraveesii managed to hold the tent in place as outside, gunfire was wild. The infantry, supported by tanks and a deadly mix of fire support vehicles and mortars, were holding off an assault by the paratroopers from the 3rd Battalion.

The two officers pored over maps as lieutenants were helping them mark their own positions and those of the Air Force. Others were panicked but doing their jobs over the radios, the computers and everything else. Mortars screamed again and again as some rounds managed to cut through the tent. They all missed but it was enough to force people to the ground for cover.

Footsteps. Then machine guns. Shouts that, if the officers thought about it correctly, moved their own men against the enemy with the vehicles taking the lead.

The Major added "I'm still getting more men. Using every vehicle they could just to get here. We really have to hold this town."

The Army Captain nodded and added "Else the Air Force could take the heavy weapons here."

Ships were leaving the ports. Nyra was on high alert. Anti aircraft guns were firing at the sky, warning the Air Force away as planes that got too close were filled with 20 to 40mm rounds or shot down by ADATs and other self propelled anti aircraft vehicles.

Aircraft carriers were ordered to remain at the ports, letting their own Pyrelights and F-14s, F-15s and F-16s take off to engage the Air Force. Other ships were free to go.

Those already at sea like the Blackjack were handling two things. The first thing was to make sure there were no hostile ships in Azen waters. The last thing the loyalists wanted were the foreigners getting into this. Unless they were Union, no ship was to enter. Civilians were turned around and returning military vessels were ordered to refuel and rearm and to restock their supplies for the Donnish war in other areas.

The second thing was to keep the skies clear. Green blips now meant loyalist planes. Blue ones meant they were Air Force. Red ones meant unknowns. And the order for all ships at sea under the Azen loyalist command was to shoot down all Air Force planes down if they ignored the first warnings.

by **Pakiranistan** » Sat Nov 04, 2017 11:37 am

Outskirts of Syrnistan and Azenyanistan, Syrnistan

The aircraft from Prince Al Fasahl Airbase soared over the border at high speed, the ground seemed like a blur to the pilots as they pushed their Su-27SM3s hard up to Mach 1. The aircraft were there for a very specific reason, eliminate not escourt but eliminate any Azeni aircraft that crossed the border in Syrnistan and thus flew fully armed to the teeth to tear apart anything that came in their way.

As the aircraft neared their destination the Wing Commander made a announcement on open comms "This is the Aegyptian Air Force, any and all Azenyanistani aircraft spotted in Syrnistan or Aegypt will be shot down and eliminated with no mercy, I repeat any and all aircraft from the previous mentioned nation will be destroyed with haste, This is your only chance to turn back cause if we find you, you bet your sorry ass we are going to destroy you" as the announcement was complete the aircraft split into 4 groups of six aircraft each to better patrol the area.

Meanwhile in the rear the IL-78 AWACS aircraft flew peacefully through the aircraft escourted by its Su-27SM3s, the aircraft was there to monitor air traffic and notify the fighter groups of any enemy precense in the area as well as establish a link to central command in Prince Al Fasahl Airbase. Currently inside the craft the air control operators sat patiently staring at their screens patiently and jotting down notes.

by **Urran** » Sat Nov 04, 2017 7:57 pm

Presidential Palace, Sakura City, Urran

Saki yawned, putting on a robe and stumbling into her office where an international phone call was waiting. It had been hours since Urranese troops had been placed on combat alert. So far they had not fired a shot. Unfortunately, it seemed that the Porteans had gotten wind of it and their leader was calling her to tell her to stand down. Saki took a deep breath and took the phone from an aid. “Hello?” she asked, though she had a pretty good idea about how this conversation would go.

"Miss Prime Minister" started Kawashima with what authority she had "my aides inform me you've begun military operations in Azenyanistan. I should strongly suggest you reasess the implications and authority of your actions. Your hasty reaction to the situation in Azenyanistan yet further strains the situation and I would prefer that not be the case. I insist, at this moment, you cooperate with us before more serious actions become necessary."

Saki was taken back. She’d expected Kawashima to politely ask her to remove troops from the border, but what she hadn’t expected was such an authoritative response. The Urranese and the Porteans were very similar in culture and politeness was a virtue. A virtue that was apparently easily sacrificed for the sake of national security. “I am not sure what you think you are implying Madam President” Saki began, speaking of harsher actions, which sounded vaguely like a threat. “But Urranese forces have not entered Azenyanistan. Our build up is only precautionary. I assure you that Urran will not take any unjust military action, especially without informing our allies.” She replied, mood thoroughly soured and not feeling at all friendly towards her friend and colleague at this moment.

"... my sincere apologies, madam Prime Minister. It appears I must discipline my aides about the use of urgency in status reports. Panic and paranoia seem to be quick to spread among the old guard. It also occurs to me what precisely the situation is. Forgive my manners, for rude awakenings and grossly exaggerated reports of military action have worn my patience down. You are, of course, free to reject my apology. In which case, I have an offer for you..."

“No, forgive my rudeness, I should not have...snapped at you as I did. Your apology has been fully accepted. I understand completely that the lives of world leaders can be stressful.” She said sincerely. Saki was often stubborn and prone to rash action, both un Urranese qualities, but she was quick to forgive and did not hold grudges. Truth be told, she was very fond of the Portean leader and the prospect of an offer intrigued her greatly. “But, an offer you say? Can you explain further?”

"The government in Azenyanistan has proven to be of... middling competency. I fear that another government will not be more stable. The Azen culture does not seem to be particularly appreciative of loyalty or honor. Outright military invasion of Union territory cannot be stomached. But, if the honorable people of Urran were to offer assistance in maintaining order in Azenyanistan, we may not mind Urran's continued indefinite custodianship over parts of the country. It does appear that the portions of Azenyanistan that have fallen under the administration of Asiatic enterprises are more prosperous than others. Of course, the caveat remains that Azenyanistan proper continues to be a dedicated, sovereign member of the Union."

“The Azen culture speaks more of loyalty to tribe than loyalty to country or leadership. It is an attitude not entirely conducive to stability.” Saki explained. “As for your offer, I must confess that it is not entirely up to me, as you well know. If a conflict occurs I can only maintain it for 120 days before I must get further approval from Parliament. However, I will do all that is within my power if it comes to that. My party and our political coalition maintain the majority. I should not have difficulty gaining consent.”

"I too shall have to gain approval from the Kaisar, but given Azenyanistan's increasing instability and the possibility of further foreign intervention, I feel he would welcome assistance from an ally rather than a rival. It is decided then. Now if you will excuse me, I have some leadership changes to make..." Kawashima hung up at that point.

“Goodnight to you too.” Saki chuckled and hung up the phone on her end. Back to bed again.

by **The United Remnants of America** » Sun Nov 05, 2017 9:31 pm

Commander Susan Grey

Over Syrnistan

9/25/2017 - 14:00

The CPD officers had readied themselves. Grey burned the image and name of Rahimuddin Ahmed into her mind. She had no doubt that she would see him again before this situation was over. It seemed familiar faces always showed up, as if the world really was as small as everyone said it was. Grey knew differently, though. The world was a big place full of big threats. Like the Azen Air Force, it seemed.

As the Aegyptian helicopter flew low over the ground, and Tanney noticed what he thought was a border checkpoint while looking through a side window in the helicopter, "Oi, Grey." Susan looked up from her cellphone and looked at the young medical officer, "I think we just crossed into the 'Stan." Grey looked out her side window. The ground hadn't changed noticeably. Still desert and dirt.

But if they had entered Syrnistan, that meant several things. That Aegypt and Syrnistan could be working together. The two nations barely ever acknowledged each other. The two were political rivals, but militarily equal enough that neither would ever risk a conflict. Had they teamed up to deal with a mutual threat? Grey nudged Bugaboo, who was sitting beside her and leaned close to yell and be heard over the helicopter's rotors and engine, "So you're friends with Syrnistan now, right? Is the entire region teaming up against Azen?"

by **Free Asian Ports** » Mon Nov 06, 2017 9:01 am

25km West of Rakshan, Azenyanistan
Altitude: 3,000m
25/9/17 - 1800 h
Operation Viper Strike

More than three dozen aircraft clustered into a cloud on approach to Azenyanistan. They were a mix of transport aircraft and jet fighters, hastily flown in from around the world and dispatched from Abu-Habbibi, Mariq. At the head, two squadrons of tactical strike fighters flew in formations of 4, arrows aimed at the coup attempt. At some unseen signal half the fighter group surged ahead, accelerating to leave the main group behind. These were the 12 F-15EJ Strike Eagles of the 302nd Tactical Fighter Squadron, Portean Air Force. The multirole fighters could take on even the best jets of the rebellious Azen Air Force. Though the pilots that flew them were not the elite of the FAPAF, they were most certainly more experienced than their opponents.

These fighters thundered over the open desert of Azenyanistan, bringing themselves to supercruise. "All allied units, this is Skyeye. Enemy aircraft have been spotted in the region, but the corridor to the drop zone is clear. Callsigns 'Victor' are to provide air defense for the transport aircraft en route. Callsigns 'Saladin' are to eliminate surface emplacements, provide support to ground units, and engage enemy aircraft in the event of interception. All units, begin combat operations!"

With the message from the AWACS complete, the fighter squadrons sprung into action. One aircraft was outfitted as an Electronic Warfare attacker, and mounted a suite of ECM gear. "Picking up air search radars in the vicinity of the air base. I believe them to be air search and anti-aircraft radars" reported the EWO in the back seat. "Jam them!". Presently, a massive bombardment of radio waves and other exotic forms of radiation slammed into Rakshan Airbase's anti-aircraft batteries and air search radars. These radars had been provided by ISAT, and the Portean pilots had jammed these very same radars in a number of war games when their allegiance remained with ISAT. It was no trouble for the Portean combat aircraft to fill the air over Rakshan with electronic white noise, effectively jamming anti-aircraft missiles.

A scant minute later, the jets were almost over the air base. The groups split up to avoid becoming convenient targets for AA that the jamming had missed or did not affect. The Strike Eagles rained steel havoc upon the base, dropping guided munitions on key defensive works like guard towers, ATGM positions, and anti-aircraft sites. A couple aircraft strafed the flight line to discourage the base from scrambling any fighters they happened to have on the ready line. Anti-tank missiles flew into armored vehicles guarding the entrances and perimeter positions. Shock and awe was the objective, suppressing the airbase before they even knew they were under attack. Speed was paramount, accuracy was secondary. The Eagles needed to carry out their objectives fast and hard, keeping up the pressure while the combat drop was under way.

5km further west, the cargo aircraft had arrived over the drop zone. The Eagles defending them spread out to hold air superiority. The Kawasaki C-2s formed wide diagonal lines of 6, spaced so that they wouldn't fly into each other's drop. Their ramps gracefully opened up, exposing the red-lit interiors of the aircraft. Promptly, the lights turned green and drogue chutes were thrown out the back, rapidly expanding and tugging on the cargo inside. The drogues pulled out the extraction chutes, which pulled with even more force. Clamps holding the cargo in place were released, and sequentially in each aircraft a 13 tonne LAV-25 rigged for paradrop slid out the back of the aircraft, promptly followed by another. Some aircraft were dropping light trucks. Two had not opened their ramps, instead opening side doors and letting out static lines. Paratroopers, members of the Portean Marine Corps Force Reconnaissance unit, parachuted out of the aircraft and gently followed their vehicles to the surface. The LAVs and light trucks popped their own arresting chutes on time, landing with a dull thud on the salt flat they had dropped over.

With all the vehicles, paratroopers, and supplies deployed, the cargo planes swiftly turned around and, under the cover of the fighters, left the combat zone. The Strike Eagles remained on station, continuing to suppress the air base's defenses and providing support to the newly deployed ground forces. The paratroopers landed next to their vehicles and hurriedly prepared to move out. Straps were removed and the light vehicles driven off their pallets. Before long, a company-sized force was hurdling towards the air base.

6th Field Army Headquarters, Yokohama, Free Asian Ports
25/9/17 - 2000 h
Operation Pegasus Gallup

General Nagashimi Nagato put down the phone and turned to her staff, the Lieutenant Generals, Major Generals, and Colonels that led the units under her command. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have been ordered by the Prime Minister to immediately relocate a division of my forces to Azenyanistan to put down the developing coup. We have units in the region, but the scope of their participation is limited and their numbers are insufficient to put it down for good. Therefore, I have been given command of the 17th Strategic Airlift Wing. General Kayama," the General she was referring to came to attention, "prepare the 2nd for immediate redeployment. We have 48 hours to deploy completely. I expect not only rapid but orderly movements at all levels. Dismissed."

The room moved into action, this being this Field Army's first operation in decades. And they were itching to do it right.

by **Pakiranistan** » Mon Nov 06, 2017 6:05 pm

Outskirts of Syrnistan and Azenyanistan, Syrnistan

Bugaboo glanced over at Grey trying to comprehend what she said over the sound of the helicopters engine and rotors "No ma'am, we just have mutual gains from them allowing us to do this" yelled back Bugaboo before turning back around to stare out the window of the helicopter as it flew low over the ground at high speed.

As time went on the sound of another helicopter approaching could be heard and soon on the right side of their helicopter, a dark grey Mi-17 helicopter gunship armed with rocket pods moved up beside of them. Leaning out the side door of the helicopter were two B.T.I contractors with one resting a heavy anti material rifle onto a sling while the other stood with rangefinders. Bugaboo noticed the helicopter and slipped the radio off of the back of his belt "Hey there boys, were about nearing the crash site so why don't yall split up and see if you can spot the pilot" said Bugaboo over the radio and right as if on cue there were two light smoke trails in the sky out in the distance.

The Mi-17 crew chief replied with a confirmation before veering off and banking hard right and entering a shallow dive to lower altitude and increase speed, Bugaboo and the CPD officer's helicopter did the same but banking to the left and heading to the crash site that was on their side as they did they could notice sand being keeped up on the ground near them, the perpatrators were soon confirmed to be the B.T.I contractor's convoy moving through the desert swiftly and peacefully. The convoy soon however splt into two and increased speed pushing their vehicles to their limits, jumping through the desert making haste towards the pilots.

The Pakirani man tapped one of the soldiers in the military fatigues on the shoulder "Your up buddy, come on lets go" he yelled trying to make sure the man heard him, and he did, the soldier grabbed what seemed to be a guncase and layed it flat on the floor of the helicopter, he opened it up to reveal a scoped SSP-69 rifle with two magazines. The man gently lifted the rifle and loaded one of the magazines into the gun before making his way to the side door and tying a hook onto the strap on the back of his chest rig, the man then opened the door and leaned out aiming the rifle at the crash site as it came into visual view, he scanned the site throughly moving his rifle side to side before resting it in one area "Yea I got em in sight, permission to engage?" said the man with a nonchalant voice.

by **The United Remnants of America** » Tue Nov 07, 2017 12:17 am

Commander Susan Grey

Over Syrnistan

9/25/2017 - 14:45

Grey watched the Pakirani troops, then glanced out the window at the smoke, signalling the location of the crashed aircraft. She glanced at Bugaboo, "You're killing on sight?" Grey nodded in appreciation. A good move, and something she probably would've done if she were in his place. They were invading pilots after all. They knew the risks when they crossed the border in Syrnistan. They were also the reason she'd been sent to Aegypt in the first place.

Fuck 'em.

Major Astra Galinsky

International Waters

9/25/2017 - 16:00

Two fleets of vessels had been thrown together for the Contracted Personnel Division to send troops to Aegypt. Almost 44,000 troops were being transported on these two fleets in order to be dropped off and act as a blocking force against any possible invasion of Aegypt. With them were 48 UH-60 Black Hawk helicopters, 150 Marder IFVs, and 162 Challenger 1 main battle tanks. A large portion of the CPD's force was being deployed to protect Aegypt, and by extension Syrnistan and Agrabah, from imperialist endeavors. This irony wasn't lost on the CPD troops who had enough memory to remember the URA's own imperialist exploits.

Major Astra Galinsky had been placed in charge of the entire force for the time being due to the rest of the CPD command being already in Aegypt meeting with the Aegyptian leadership. The last report she had was that the C-37B that had been sent to Aegypt had been recalled to Zhangua amidst rising tensions in the region, and the last thing the CPD wanted was to lose a private unarmed jet because it was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Major Galinsky wasn't Remnant like Commander Grey, but she had served in the CPD just as long as Grey had.

There were five main infantry units she had to keep track of aboard the fleets. The first were the SA Stormtroopers unit under command of Captain Youssef ibn Ahman Ihsan. A division of infantry with ten battalions of armor and mechanized units each, the Namenian Stormtroopers were probably the biggest problem group. Originally sent to serve the CPD when the URA and DEN were allies, they'd recently been finding themselves at odds. The problem with this was that the Stormtroopers were the biggest threat of a full-on mutiny. This meant the URA had given them raises to keep them placated. The Stormtroopers requested never to directly confront Namenian regulars, or else they'd betray the CPD. The CPD had no reason to disbelieve them, so the request was kept in mind.

The second unit were two heavy divisions of infantry known as the Red Claws under Captain George Tanaka. Tanaka and the Red Claws were a fairly profitable PMC before being bought out by the CPD several years ago. They didn't see much action due to their size, but they'd been called up to go on this action and comprised half of the ground force that would be deployed in Aegypt.

Captain Gennady Alexia and Captain Adam Danielsen both commanded hodge-podge units. Alexia's infantry division was supported by an armor regiment and airborne regiment, while Danielsen commanded a couple battalions and smaller specialized units that could be used for specific missions.

The first naval fleet was the largest and led the CPD fleet. Major Galinsky was aboard this fleet, but Captain Dan Quen commanded this group of ships. 5 hospital ships dominated the center of the fleet. The retired former Remnant Navy vessels were refitted to act as transports for the CPD. They were mostly unarmed except for MANPADS. 8 Wasp-Class LHDs supported them and offered the brunt of the heavy equipment carrying capacity. The LHDs circled the hospital ships, acting as a defensive picket. Spread throughout the LHDs were 8 more Runnymede-class landing craft, which carried vehicles and equipment not able to be put on the Wasps. They were smaller and much less prepared for combat, but they made good vehicular transports. A further 20 air-cushioned landing craft spent time keeping along with the fleet while making pitstops in the well decks of the Wasp LHDs. Once they made it to Aegypt, the LCACs could be used as amphibious assault craft were the Runnymedes and Wasps would be at a disadvantage. Underneath the water, a full dozen Barbel-class submarines acted as hidden guard dogs. The old diesel subs had been produced by the dozens for the Remnant Navy, but were now so old they were only good as CPD patrol vessels. While generally not equipped for a modern fight, they made up for it in numbers and their armaments, which included the Mark 16 torpedo, a two-ton weapon that could spell death for most vessels if it hit.

The reserve fleet followed a far-off fifty kilometers behind the primary fleet and was commanded by Major Greg Farhammer, one of the most experienced commanders in the CPD and the URA in general. The reserve fleet held a dozen Runnymede LCUs which were full of humanitarian supplies as well as ammunition and were to only be brought into port if the initial supplies held by the main fleet were running low. The Runnymedes were only defended by a couple MANPADs aboard each vessel. However, these LCUs were defended underwater by 18 more Barbel-class submarines motoring along just under the waves. The relative lack of defense was due more to an overextension and use of the CPD than anything else. There were more defenses in the CPD, they were just elsewhere and needed more time to be brought back to the URA or a GRCS member state to resupply and be sent out to support the cause. But for now, the reserve fleet was a relatively soft target.

In all, 63 CPD vessels and 20 landing craft had been assembled for the trip to Aegypt. It was one of the largest official naval deployments by the URA and the largest deployment of the CPD. They were currently five days out from Aegypt.

by **Azenyanistan** » Tue Nov 07, 2017 7:31 am

Aksesyr Dune Kaiteriza

In Azenyanistan

9/25/2017

Two calls to make. Not a single one of them easy. She made the first call to the Valarans. She listened to the woman.

“I apologise for the interruption, Aksesyr Dune. The Valaran Empire will offer any assistance it needs to your administration. I shall issue a public statement shortly.”

“As for military means, we have a standardised response timetable. If you give us 48 hours, we can deploy a fighter wing with refuelling aircraft, and up to two infantry companies. The transports would only require soft landing strips, but the fighters would need airbases. This force is at your disposal. However, we would need an accurate list of hostile targets and capabilities from you. We would also need access either to a friendly or civilian airbase, or to use a third-party base like the one at SARAz.” Shr recited the operational doctrine by rote. It was a standard Valaran response package, normally used to respond to a crisis in the colonies, but it seemed equally applicable here.

Crien continued. “I also have two squads of Ambassadorial Guard with us now. If it is truly needed, we can divert them to you immediately. However we are still some thirty minutes away for Nusayastatt, and I am not sure what assistance they may be.” Crien neglected to mention that it might place the delegation itself in danger. Or that the Guard were expressly not to be used offensively, let alone contracted out to other states. Sathren still felt a sliver of vindication. It was his suggestion to bring them, even if he had not meant for the soldiers to see actual combat. So, essentially his vindication was irrational, an accident of fate, not deliberate planning. But he still felt it.

“It is up to you, Aksesyr.”

Now it was her turn to reply. Hers was

"I am very thankful for you help. After some careful consideration with my Cabinet and other officers present with me, I can let you send your fighters to the airbases in the West or the North. Be careful of our Air Force though. I do not want your planes to be shot down by the traitors. Anyway, your transports could make their way to the Free and International Airport in Yaneza.

As for the list, my officers shall supply you in a separate transmission. As for the guards, I urge you not to send them to me. I am on my way to see you. We will come to you. My only concern is that I and you survive. And you surviving is perhaps more important than I surviving. As things are in Azenyanistan, it is very easy for leaders to come and go here."

She continued after looking to some of her companions "Just note that only two of our airbases remain under government control. If you cannot make your way there, I urge you to send your fighters to civilian airports or to Iodinae or to the former SARAz. I must go now. A situation is developing."

Retired Supreme Commander Salade

Near The Border

9/25/2017

It took her a few minutes to speak to her people who lived near the border and to those who lived beyond the border. But it took her around an hour to reach the border personally. When she did, she took command of a nearby detachment of Azen tanks and New Azen infantry and artillery. Fourteen tanks, six hundred men and their motorcycles, AFVs or IFVs and two batteries of 105 to 155mm howitzers as well as some mortars and multiple rocket launchers.

The detachment was already there for a few days. The commander, a New Azen, allowed Salade to take over, but without replacing her as she knew more of the situation.

The commander told Salade that while the tribes have sent fifty men and are sending seventy men more soon, agents and special forces already in Syrnistan were moving to save the pilots.

While it seemed so absurd to all for Salade and the men here to try and save the pilots, it was not in the face of sanctuary.

Salade had hailed from the tribe of Northern and Western Azenyanistan. That tribe had one rule she had to follow: If men come to seek sanctuary, no matter who they are, you provide them sanctuary.

She had requested sanctuary to be extended to the pilots who crashed into Syrnistan. Now that Remnant and Aegyptian and, what seemed to be rumored, Pakiranistani troops were coming after the pilots, most likely to kill them than to capture them, and at the request of Dune, the former Supreme Commander of all Azen forces stepped forward to serve once again.

The pilots will be protected by her. She was their host.

She instructed the detachment not to move into Syrnistan, not to violate their sovereignty and not to do anything offensive. But she allowed the tribes close to the border or in Syrnistan to do so. And once the tribes, should they succeed knowing that they would suffer heavy losses, because while they were great at fighting they have not fought stronger forces, get the pilots moving toward Azenyanistan, she could get the men to move to secure them.

And she had faith that this could go her way. For behind her and to her right and left flanks, within Azen territory, there were more detachments of armor and infantry and artillery. Not all have abandoned the borders.

Pilot Fuelai Iommag

Crash site

9/25/2017

The youth ran for her life. Not because she did not wish to be saved but because she knew there was great danger coming for her. She didn't know about the Remnants or the Aegyptians. But she knew about the Syrnistanis.

Before she ran, she looked for other pilots. She found them but one was attempting to help another deal with her broken leg. She didn't stop but the one attending to the injured one shouted for her until the youth had ran far enough that she could not hear them any longer.

She kept on falling. But she would pick herself up and run again, heading for a nearby village. A pair of men on horses were coming to her. But she didn't stop. She had to make it to the village. She hoped that they would shelter her. Or at least, get her a transport. A horse was okay. A car was better. She just hoped she could live.

Even as she carried her Uzi and her own pistol, she did not trust in them enough. She was hearing helicopters. She was hearing vehicles. She ran faster.

She was going to die if she did not try to make it for her own life.

Aksesyr Dune Kaiteriza

In Azenyanistan

9/25/2017

Another call was made to the Atreidyans. As she traveled on with her guards and her companions, she had to give them a message. This one was short and sweet...were it not for the gravity of all that was happening

"This is Aksesyr Dune. I need your help. Very badly. I am on my way to meet the Valarans in a town close to Nusayastatt. This call is secure but I don't want to risk being tapped. I could really use some more help in getting this coup under control. If I can't get this over, then this country is open to invasion. Without the Air Force, I can't keep the skies of my people clear. And if they are not clear, we might be lost."

by **Pakiranistan** » Tue Nov 07, 2017 1:58 pm

Outskirts of Syrnistan and Azenyanistan, Syrnistan

The Mi-17 soared down from the sky flying low to the ground near the crash site, the B.T.I contractor with the anti material rifle noticed something moving in the desert towards two shapes, he braced his KSVK into his shoulder before peering through the scope on his rifle moving the rifle towards the shapes. He adjusted the setting on his scope till he could clearly make out the shape as a women running towards two men on horseback, the contractor realized that the women running was one of the pilots and quickly went into action “Hey pilot, get me in closer to those shapes one of em is the pilot we need” said the contractor over the radio, the pilot complied moments later putting the helicopter into another nose dive in order to gain speed and lower altitude, the helicopter soon closed in.

The contractor handed his rifle to his spotter instead gesturing towards an MG3 with a ACOG mounted on it laying on the floor of the helicopter, the spotter took the rifle and placed the anti material rifle down before grabbing the MG3 by the carry handle and placing it on the sling for the shooter, he opened the ammo hatch and placed a belt onto it before closing it and holding the belt for the shooter who slammed the charging handle back and forward before bracing it and turning off the safety, he sent 3 short bursts in front of the running pilot and the two horseman in order to scare them off before announcing on loudspeaker to the pilot “Azeni pilot stop right now and I can guarantee your safety”

Meanwhile In Bugaboo’s helicopter “ Unfortunately no, we’re gonna attempt to capture the pilots for information” replied Bugaboo to Grey before patting the Pakirani sniper on the back “Whadya see son” asked Bugaboo,

The sniper replied moments later “ I got one injured and another attending to him” upon hearing this the Pakirani man quickly grabbed his radio and spoke into it “pilot, get us down there as fast as you can, you boys be ready” he said opening the other side door and unholstering his revolver from its holster before leaning out looking down at the convoy making way towards the site. The helicopter soon dove towards the crash site and was upon it in as if it were a Cheetah pounceing on an Elk, as soon as the helicopter touched down the Pakirani Special Forces jumped out racking the charging handles on their rifles, they ran up to the pilots with one of the operators slamming his rifles butt into the pilot attending the other ones wounds knocking him out cold before removing his weapons from him and cuffing him, the injured pilot was watched at gunpoint as his weapon too was removed and tossed. Bugaboo and the Pakirani man had exited the helicopter with the special forces and began giving orders "transport the injured one in the convoy, as for the one that is out cold, we will take him with us in the helicopter" yelled the Pakirani man.

The first convoy arrived moments after the helicopter had touched down with the vehicles soon forming a protective circle around the helicopter and the crash site, B.T.I contractors rushed over to the injured pilot with a bed and placed him on it, tying him down to make sure he did not do anything rash before taking him away to be placed in a Githur IMV. Lead Contractor Michael Hatfield walked over to where Bugaboo was standing and gave him a brief on the situation "Sir we have the the crash site theirselves locked down and under our control and will be moving the injured pilot soon but theres another pilot and she is currently running towards the Azeni border" stated Hatfield urgently while looking towards the Mi-17 hovering some distance away from them, Bugaboo listened attentively before speaking "Damn it, make sure that we get her too, we can't lose her Hatfield and I mean it, WE NEED HER" said Bugaboo authoritively while looking around him at the enviorment "Aye sir, we got a helo on her and the second convoys about to make contact too sir" replied Hatfield while gesturing towards the Mi-17.

The second convoy was moving in on the running pilot at full speed, wasting no time as they had orders to either kill or retrieve the pilot...

by **Atreidya** » Wed Nov 08, 2017 12:06 am

The Hand Meeting Chamber, Royal Palace in Kaladan

The message replayed for the gathered listeners. At the head of the large table, Arkon lounged back, but his expression betrayed his internal feelings. He was distraught at the idea that his ally and neighbor was essentially on the ropes and on the run. Around him the members of the hand sat. They fidgeted as the message played once again. Rasan finally broke the silence by clearing her throat.

"Well, Arkon, what are you thinking?" She knew he had an idea in mind but his silence had taken far too long already.

"We really only have one main option, we have to support our ally." Arkon said while shifting forward into a more authoritative position.

"I want a reply sent to the Aksesyr as soon as possible to let her know she still has support from us. Inform her that units from our Hammai'riva will be en-route to rendezvous with her and the Valarans to help to provide additional security. Basara I want you to lead them personally." Arkon stood and pointed at a specific location on the map that covered the large table.

"Here we will begin deploying lighter units to try and retake this air base here. I want to cut into their ability to launch attacks as quickly as possible and this is the nearest striking position to our border. Around one hour flight from our own Dallak air base there." He slid his finger, crossing the line marking borders. "Prepare a wing of fighter bombers to soften up the enemy and get their attention while we get some men there. Try to avoid any unnecessary casualties but don't throw away your lives." With that the Arkon gave control of the operation to Kadim, it was better that his military experience was put to use.

"Kadim, I want an idea of what you will be doing by the morning."

With that the hand split apart. Basara left and made way to her office to contact her strike team. They would be leaving in extremely short notice, luckily they had been on standby since the beginning of this mess. The others made their way either to Imperial court for Arkon, Rasan, and Tenim, or in Kadim's case to his own office to begin contacting his field officers.

Kaladan Hammai'riva Headquarters

Basara shoved her pack into the cramped space of the small helicopter. She had cobbled together her gear in a space of only a handful of hours. Around her, her team of fifteen agents readied their own gear. A few yawns was the only thing beyond the whir of the vehicle motors and the muted conversation as the agents prepared their equipment. As a part of the first Hammai'riva security detachment they were some of Atreidya's best, specially trained agents for small unit engagements.

Now they prepped eight small helicopters for their mission to a tiny village outside of Nusayastatt. Six of the choppers would carry the agents while two were outfitted specifically as support for the teams. As the last of the agents finished checking their supplies they circled up with Basara.

"Alright, team one with be in the first two helicopters, team two in the second two and team three in the last two. I will be with team one which will be the first in position. Should things go sideways and our opponents move on the village Python 1 and 2 will try to keep them off on you while you land. Our main opponents are the Azen air force. Therefore a lot of space is being given over to shoulder launched systems I borrowed from our pals in the army. Myself and team one's objective are to link up with the Azen and Valaran groups, while team two is to head to the south side of the town and team three to the east. I don't expect any ground resistance but keep your heads down and weapons ready you never know. Further orders will come from your team leaders, so let's move out." Basara lifted the mask up onto her face, the material was enough to filter out dust particles but thin enough to easily breathe, something that would be needed in landing with the choppers in Azenyanistan.

The first vehicles to lift off were the support craft, equipped as gunships they were nimble and deadly perfect for this kind of operation. Slowly the rest lifted off, paired up each chopper was crammed full of ammunition and weaponry in addition to the agents in each. Pivoting south east, the buzzing helicopters swept high over the land as it made it's way towards the border.

by **Forest State** » Wed Nov 08, 2017 10:52 am

Stormhold, Cemeralia
The Roaring Boars

When you needed something done in Cemeralia, and you needed it done cleanly, effectively, and without too many trails leading back to you, the best people to do it for you were the ones from the Imperial Special Corps, and specifically the ones from the First Section. The ISC had ended wars before in Cemeralia, and were made up of some of the veterans from the conflicts of recent memory. The battle hardened ones, and they were joined by some of the brightest from the Cemeralian intelligence community. Where they operated, things typically went their way, and they almost always avoided detection.

This time, Section One’s Fifth Unit was being called upon to do some work, not within the borders of the country, but abroad. Far away, in Syrnistan, specifically. The Fifth Unit, also known by their nickname, the Roaring Boars, had experience taking down governments before. Their actions behind enemy lines in the Airpine War resulted indirectly in the war’s end, with the country’s infrastructure not being able to keep up while being under attack by Cemeralian special forces units, the Fifth Unit included.

“This is a job for you, and by you, I mean the first and the second platoons only. We’re not moving in with a full unit this time. We don’t even need two full platoons, really, because our work is going to be overseeing an overthrow by a third party that we will get into contact with before we make the trip. The locale? It looks like we’re going to be sent to a third world hellhole, I didn’t have any say in choosing the location,” said Major Alexander Lucario. “In this case, the hellhole that we’re being sent to is Syrnistan, and the third party is the military of the country, which is primed for a coup against a government that is largely ineffective.”

The Major stopped in front of the whiteboard, sketching out a rough map of the country and pointing to the city where they would enter. “We have friendly forces in Kha Bi, in the form of Cemeralian contractors from Marando Security. They are working with the Azen rebels there, without knowing that their contract is from the government of Cemeralia. We have orders to fly into the city, stay briefly with them, and then proceed to the capital and incite the military into performing a coup, which we will personally oversee the success of. We will be blending into the local area, changing out our equipment and clothing to look less like an army of foreigners and more like local forces. The First Platoon will be responsible for making contact with the local military, and potentially coercing their leadership into this, while the Second Platoon will oversee the actual coup, with the First providing backup. Of course, you will receive more instructions as we depart for the country.”

“What do we want in Syrnistan?” asked the First Platoon leader, whose codename was Titan. “Oil? If it’s oil we want, it’s smarter to put everything into ending the Second Kortalian War and keeping the business there alive. I’ll do whatever we’re ordered, like I’ve always done, but the decision just seems baffling to me. Like I’m missing the reasoning behind it.”

“The reasoning behind it, Titan, is that it’s better for Syrnistan to be in our hands than the hands of our enemies from the Union. The Union’s values stand against our own, their nations have a different ideology than our own, and the more power the Union gains, the more of a risk there is that they turn that power on us. A coup in Syrnistan curbs Union expansionism through Azenyanistan, just like funding Azen rebels does, assuming they can break off some of the territory of that country,” the Major said, before looking directly at all of his men again. “Remember the events happening in Donner Land. An unfavorable government can quickly lead to an entire world being against one country. Our goal is to make sure that the Golden Empire never suffers the same fate.”

“Nipping this expansionism in the bud is the only way to prevent the Azen menace from getting bolder and turning their attention to North Cemeralia,” stated the Second Platoon leader, codenamed Doubletap. “First they expand into Syrnistan, and we do nothing. Then they expand into Aegypt, and we do nothing. And then eventually, they have a fucking continent under their control and they turn their sights to North Cemeralia, and we have a fucking problem on our hands. Especially if they turn the union against us because of our levels of political freedom, or some fucking bullshit like that. A takeover of Syrnistan isn’t going to be harder than anything else we’ve done in the past. Let’s just get it over with, it’s for a good reason.”

“Doubletap makes a good point,” said the Major, before starting to walk to the back of the room. “Unit, you are dismissed. Make sure to have everything packed in the next couple of days. Weapons, clothes for the desert, and anything else you need. We’ll be flying charter to Kha Bi on two different flights, and you’ll be in civilian dress. Don’t bring any weapons that can’t be easily packed away, either. We’re not entering Syrnistan as an army. We’re entering as Syrnistani citizens. Any further questions should be brought to myself or to your platoon leaders. Oh, and one last thing…”

“Blood for the Sun God!” shouted the soldiers, repeating one of the rallying cries of the Cemeralian Armed Forces. And with that, the hard men that filled the room stood up and headed towards the exit, going to pack and prepare for their little expedition into the desert. The one that was going to be called Operation Desert Phalanx.

by **Urran** » Fri Nov 10, 2017 8:01 pm

Megumi Shrine, Azenyanistan

Azenyanistan, at least large portions of it, had been occupied by the Urranese for years. It was long enough for some Urranese to settle down and take root in the former Asiatic nation's territory. Many, most actually, had left after the territory had been transferred back to Azenyanistan, fearing the seemingly constant instability brought about by the "inferior cultural values" that the Azens possessed.

Still, not all had left. In a quiet little corner of Azenyanistan, a group of Urranese priests and priestesses had turned an old mosque into a shrine to the Christian God. Some had chosen to dedicate their lives to holy service, others had signed on for a time and still dutifully attended the shrine, despite the considerable dangers of staying in such a disaster prone country. Children and widows were fed and educated. The needy were attended to and occasionally given shelter. That was especially the case today.

The chief priest, an old sage that had spent more than five decades as a priest was alone in the main abbey, kneeling at an altar and surrounded by candles. Nothing stirred in the silence. "And I ask your protection for those caught up in this mess. Your will be done sovereign of sovereigns. Amen." He opened his eyes to the gentle, flickering light of hundreds of candles and looked up at an ancient, wooden cross that had replaced many of the islamic decorations that had once adorned the former mosque.

There was a mew and a purr, and the calming sensation of a warm body brushing up against the silky robes worn by the lone worshiper. "Well, hello there. Come for your dinner?" asked the old man, reaching down and stroking the aging calico cat that had been adopted into the priesthood. "Come old fellow, I'll see to your needs." He chuckled, stiffly rising to his feet. "oh, these old bones might not have much left in them, but they will have to do."

He stooped to pick up the feline, bones creaking and snapping in protest. But before he could leave the large chamber doors flew open and a much younger priest came frantically into the room, flooding the area with sunlight and causing the elder to squint. "Gato, what ever is the matter, you look as if you have seen a ghost." the old priest exclaimed.

The junior didn't answer right away as he bent over panting. "High priest. It's the Air Force, they have mounted a coup and lost many aircraft. We have a few of the pilots, many of them wounded. The Azen government and the Pakis will be looking for them soon. What should we do?" He asked, looking up from his bent over position.

"Take this." the elder handed the younger the old cat. "Gather the priestesses and other young priests. I shall gather the elders. Keep the pilots hidden. Remember the Israelite midwives. It is just to lie to protect the innocent from being hunted."

"But they mounted a coup." The younger protested as the old man hobbled as quickly as he could out of the rectory.

"History and God will decide who was in the right Gato. God will decide." the old man replied in turn, leaving the younger to his orders. Hopefully, the Pakiranis and Azens would have reservations about tearing apart a sacred building or harming the holy. Time would tell.

by **Valaran** » Fri Nov 10, 2017 8:15 pm

Under Pale Sky

"I am very thankful for you help. After some careful consideration with my Cabinet and other officers present with me, I can let you send your fighters to the airbases in the West or the North. Be careful of our Air Force though. I do not want your planes to be shot down by the traitors. Anyway, your transports could make their way to the Free and International Airport in Yaneza.

As for the list, my officers shall supply you in a separate transmission. As for the guards, I urge you not to send them to me. I am on my way to see you. We will come to you. My only concern is that I and you survive. And you surviving is perhaps more important than I surviving. As things are in Azenyanistan, it is very easy for leaders to come and go here.”

She continued after looking to some of her companions "Just note that only two of our airbases remain under government control. If you cannot make your way there, I urge you to send your fighters to civilian airports or to Iodinae or to the former SARAz. I must go now. A situation is developing.”

Crien left the car as soon as the message came through. Sathren didn’t ask what she was doing. It was obvious. A phone-call to the Prime Minister, to explain that his government had authorised force without his approval. Assuming he agreed, he would summon Valaran High Command. In approximately twenty minutes, orders would roll out across the country — the usual battle plan would be called up. The juggernaut would be rolling, and there was nothing anyone could to do stop it.

Satrhen waited inside the car for a moment. The interior felt like it was frozen in time. It was still, as everywhere sprung into action around them. Even the dust particles were suspended, little flakes of light that were trapped in stale amber.

Clara stared uncertainly at Sathren. He ignored her.

The diplomat took about as much as he could bear. He opened the door, and got outside. The wind was slick with dry oily heat. It had a metallic tang, probably fuel or cordite. Sathren smelt burning.

The door opened again. This time Clara emerged.

“So, what, are they going to meet us on a roadside?” Sathren took out a cigarette. “That doesn’t seem very safe.” Clara didn’t answer. The wind blew strands of hair across her face. Clara had a deep red hair, common enough in North Valaran. Most was tied back, bar a few curled strands that would settle on her cheeks. She wore a slim business suit and a medium-length skirt. Practically standard ministerial attire.

Sathren squinted at the sky. The thunderclap of planes was a constant rolling noise over Nusayastatt. There an intermittent drone of cars whizzing past. Horns could be faintly heard from the other side of the motorway. There the traffic was jam-packed, as citizens all fled the capital. But on the road leading to Nusayastatt, there was nothing.

He held his pack towards her. “Want one?” Clara waved it back. “Oh yeah, you kids don’t smoke.”

Sathren stuck the cigarette in his mouth. He diced to continue. “I don’t know about you, but Dune sounded odd. She had a weird energy to her voice. Kept stopping and starting. Like we were meant to laugh in the gaps. Or she was.”

“She’s nervous,” Clara finally spoke. It was a quiet voice, but clearly wilful.

“Of course she’s nervous. Several thousand people want her dead. A good proportion are actively trying to make that reality”

“No.” Clara’s voice had soft tones of admonition. “She seems nervous of us.”

Sathren twisted his neck and looked back at her. “Oh, you think? I’ve seen people who are nervous of us. They don’t act like this.” He took out a lighter, shielding the flame with his hand as he lit the end of the cigarette. “They’re quieter. Dune wasn’t quiet.” He drew in the cigarette smoke.

“How do you stand this?” Clara asked, suddenly.

“Stand what?”

“This.” She waved her arms about, to encompass the whole setting. “The waiting. The fact that people are being slaughtered four miles away. That we might be slaughtered ourselves. That we have’t even seen Dune yet.”

Sathren smiled. “I take up smoking. Really calms the nerves.” He puffed again, and took the cigarette out of his mouth. “This is what I would call a bad assignment." He nearly laughed at his own understatement. "When everything is so tenuous. You never know whether the next hour will lead to a breakthrough, or whether you’re simply stuck in a field somewhere, because your contact is busy, or lying in a different field with three bullets in their stomach.” He flicked ash from the cigarette and drew back to Clara. “Crien feels the same anxiety you do, by the way. ”

“She does?”

“Oh yes. She’s as tense as wire right now. She would just never say it. Well,” Sathren half-smiled again, “at least, she wouldn’t say it to me. She might say it to you.” He looked at Clara. “You both have a lot in common.”

Clara appeared to chew on that though. The wind whipped strands of her hair back across her cheeks. She hugged her shoulders and looked at the distant outline of Nusayastatt. An odd feeling disturbed Sathren’s thoughts. He turned away before it could infect. Drawing on the cigarette helped too.

Together, as the oil-slick wind caressed them, they stared at the Azen Metropolis.

Crien returned some fifteen minutes later. Sathren gave a questioning look. Her face held no answers, but her voice did. “He wasn’t happy, Sathren. He blames you for this. But he’s given the go-ahead.”

“Well, the coalition efforts might cheer him up.” He faked a smile.

“I doubt it.” Crien strode over the tarmac. The car door was opened for her. “I got an update from Dune’s people as well. We’re all meeting at a warehouse in a nearby town.” She looked at the sky. “Let’s get going.” Sathren flicked his cigarette into the dirt. It was not even half-finished.

The drive itself was quick. The road towards Nusayastatt remained almost empty. Checkpoints were unmanned. One was a blackened crater, thanks to an errant airstrike. Sathren just about made out charred corpses amongst the ash. Only as they reached the town, did soldiers flag them down. G171 agents searched the vehicles, then waved them through. The town itself was ghostlike, the only human presence being the long spectres of gun barrels in windows. Sathren blinked when he a saw a parked race car. The brightly coloured thing stuck out amongst the ochre houses, like seeing candy during a famine.

The cars were stopped, and they proceeded on foot, down steps and then along corridors. More G171 were clustered around, and the Valarans marched past. Crien first, then Sathren, then Clara, and then a dozen Ambassadorial Guard. It was a brisk, uncertain walk, passing yet more clusters of Azen soldiers in yet ever tighter spaces, until finally, they came to an open room, with a flash of cold daylight to illuminate it.

A room with a single occupant to greet them.

Dune.

Sathren felt like a smoke. He was going to need it for this.

In the Empire

The Valaran engine of war slowly lumbered into life. Fuel had been shovelled into its furnace, and the command lever had been yanked forwards. But a nation gong to war was not an spark, that could set the land ablaze in an instant, but a slow ungainly tread, each step serving to drag the national edifice down into the mire.

The first motor began to whir. Tulsa airbase was a hub of activity. A stretch of tarmac now hosted a small armada of planes in preparation, each surrounded by a cluster of technicians, refuelling trucks and weapons transports. All the planes were point west and south, each beak aimed at the cloudless sky.

First there was a fighter-wing. Some 54 aircraft — three squadrons of the ubiquitous ‘Varja’, the strong heavenward arm of the Empire. Varja’s were multirole strike aircraft. One squadron was fitted to ground attack, to strike at Azeni bases and Sam sites. The rest were expected to engage the Azen planes. They would be supported by a squadron of ‘Taethas’ aerial superiority fighters, and a smaller formation of Sovrys EW aircraft. A Fighter-Wing’s strength was its versatility, and this was to be used to puncture the Azen airforce, and cut a line of fire across its power.

The Fighter Wing would be deployed around an Airmobility Wing of 24 TF-14 Parsus transport planes. The Parsus’s were ferrying a reinforced VRF infantry company, with an additional SAM Battery.

Each of these Formations would require the use of a Tanker Wing of 9 TF-7 Ulkis refuelling planes. The final unit was, 2 TI-25 Ilasi AWACs, and 6 UA-9 surveillance drones. The Ilasis would command and direct the force, while the UA-9 would provide extended ISR operations. The total Strike Package was thus 112 Aircraft. An extravagant affair for a short-notice operation.

Final checks were completed. Engines began to roar, rotors disappeared into whirling motion. Short bursts of confirmation were sent out. The planes began to take off, in a steady stream of silhouettes climbing into the sky. As its machines of fury ascended, the Valaran Empire began its descent into the mire.

A much more ponderous affair was the preparations in Varhaven. The VRF 7th Corps was slowly assembled, with lines of vehicles rumbling onto the ramps, into the waiting transports. Further out to sea, packs of Frigates and Destroyers gathered. The whole force might take a week to assemble, and another week to be fully transported. Far too late to really impact the events happening right now, but in the end, it was the far important step. The Empire could send planes back and forth, could have its forces dance across the sky, all without any lasting impact. But the VRF could not be so easily withdrawn. They were an iron vice, a cast that kept the Empire from rising up out of the mire, until darkness closed around it and its vision had turned to black and crimson. Then the Empire would truly know what it had done, by setting its furnace ablaze, with life and fire.

by **Azenyanistan** » Fri Nov 10, 2017 11:05 pm

vein

Aksesyr Dune ur Kaiteriza

The leader of the Azens, as the Air Force dared to fly so they could snatch her from the ground and take her life away, so that she would not rule, drank water from her glass slowly. She observed everything.

The chair she sat on. The table she was behind. The agents outside of the room. And the smoke, the planes, the distant gunfire, the passing vehicles, everything.

It all changed when in what seemed to be quite a time. When the officials from Valaran came into her room, she stood up and gave them all a proper Azen nod. She went from face to face, determining who is who. She seemed to recognize Sathren. And she thought the one with the deep red hair was Crien. But when she realized that another woman entered the woman first, she concluded this one was Crien and the other one was someone she couldn't know because she had no more time.

Immediately, she was the one, not her guards, who took chairs and gave them to her guests. And soon, she was serving them glasses of ice water and even offering the man a smoke. She thought the women didn't.

She said "I'm Dune ur Kaiteriza. I'm really happy to see you all here. Thank you for coming and for understanding." She let a few seconds skip and then continued "I really need your help. There's a lot to do and I do not have much time. After we have our meeting, I will ask my guards to send you to a place where it is safe for you all. We could escort you back to your embassy."

She sat down and placed her chin on her hand, sighing "I will have to talk to the Atreidyans and then the rest of the Union and maybe the Dominion. The Namenians are coming also to help but I am not sure if this situation would go well."

Fuelai Iommag

The youth reached the men on horses. After that shocking strafe from the machinegun, she picked herself up and ran faster. She told the equally surprised tribesmen "Please! Help me! I am running away from these men! They are trying to capture and kill me. They already took my partners. Please, you have to help me!"

And one of the men said, after giving the ones chasing her a look "We will help you. But you must leave. You cannot stay in our village." The man then instructed the one with him "Radi! Take her and give her a horse and go with her."

Soon, Fuelai jumped on the horse of Radi and with him entered the village. The other man then rode towards the one who chased after her and shouted, raising one hand "Peace! Peace! Do not shoot. Let us talk."

But as he did that, the village saw what happened. Men and women left everything that they were doing and gathered their weapons and ammunition. Children and their guardians were rushed to the houses and shelters far from the ones coming after the pilot.

Three men were setting up a mortar in the village square while at the entrances, women and men were taking cover behind thick stone and sand walls or in their own homes. Radi took the pilot deeper into the village, gave her a horse and instructed her and five others to head into Azenyanistan, to cross into it. Radi then followed as the villagers began to prepare to defend themselves.

And to get more assistance, young women operated the radios, requesting for assistance from nearby villages and from Azenyanistan herself. This was because this village flew the Azen flag and it was where a number of soldiers of the Azen army were from. The villagers knew how to fight.

They have survived the Seven Wars. And now they wondered if they could survive this possible battle with the ones chasing after the youth.

Ufrfacii Salother

While the border was almost left behind, there were those who refused to abandon it. Others simply replaced those who did abandon it. Among those who remained was Tank Commander Ufracii. While the order given to her unit was to return to the core of Azenyanistan to fight the Air Force, she sought out permission to stay and she did.

The woman who had no tribe now watched what was going on in the village she had been monitoring for quite some time. Just a few kilometers from the border, she could see with the help of the excellent optics she brought along with the rest installed into the M84-AZN Recce tank that the villagers were arming themselves. A young woman in uniform was fleeing on a horse with young men on horses and with guns.

The tank commander reported this soon to the outposts at the border. And once those outposts received, the message was passed on from them to the nearby Azen armored and mechanized infantry units that stayed behind.

Lieutenant Varakadisha

She ignored all warnings from the Pakiranistanis. To stop herself from becoming afraid, from hesitating, she switched channels so that she heard only her fellow fliers.

She trusted that the other planes following them from the homeland would get those bastards off of them for just a while.

In 10 seconds, she and her fliers all broke formation, spreading themselves out and then engaging their afterburners, pushing their Pyrelights to the limit, throwing themselves towards the Syrnistani capital. They also readied their long range air to surface missiles. Weapons meant to blow whatever remains of the Syrnistani government to kingdom come.

Lieutenant Eefere

Flying the F-16 was never easy for her. But after year after year of training, month after month of practice and weeks of personal preparations and motivation, she took off, flew and crossed the border. Joining eight other F-16s, she was at the front. Their mission was to protect the Pyrelights. If they couldn't get those planes through so they could start the war, then it's all worthless. The coup, everything else? A spit in the eye.

Eefere had her plane going as fast as it could, hoping to catch the Aegyptians before they could interrupt their mission. Once they got in range, half would go for the AWACs, the rest for the SUs.

And behind them, Eefere recalled, were four A-10s and a pair of F-16s meant to clean up whatever the Pyrelights didn't manage to accomplish.

Slateface

"The Air Force crossed into Syrnistan. What do we do?"

The woman in charge of all loyal Azen forces in Sishai thought about it. Without sufficient aircraft, they could not chase the traitors down and shoot them down so they could avoid starting a war. If they could save the Syrnistanis and Aegyptians from whatever the traitors were planning to do, then there was hope of regaining control.

Slateface nodded to the Air Force officers who remained loyal to her. Her instructions were sharp "Have your Pyrelights and F-16s in the air. If you have any AWACs and other fighters or interceptors, now's the time to send them after the traitors."

To her air defense officers who had forces close to the border, she instructed them "Tell your troops to shoot all the planes of the Air Force, if they dare to enter foreign airspace, and to spare no one. The Air Force is a significant enemy of the state until it will give up or until it is pacified."

She hoped now that her instructions would still have effect, no matter what time it is or what time it may come.

Machbetia

Having these many anti air weapons and ammunition so close to the border was the source of all the nervous sweating and thought of the woman. As her men watched the skies for traitorous pilots and their planes, the armored and infantry units protecting them were equally anxious of other things. She worried for foreign planes coming in and destroying all of them. They worried about enemy tanks and infantry pouring through.

If only there was no coup, if only Ayza was not being so confusing and provocative, if only. But nothing can be done except to do the job that every person had right now. And Machbetia should be careful.

Hopefully, she would only shoot down Air Force planes, taking their pilots down with them too.

Arinshania

The rebel leader was amazed. At the news and most of all, at the support she was getting.

She was moving to meet the contractors. As she was escorted by twenty of her best fighters and forty others, she thought over her plan.

To engage the Azen forces now would be unwise. It would be better to sink into the cores, to disappear as they receive training and other assistance from the foreigners. Cemeralians, huh? She didn't get any message back from Kramania but...eh, she shrugged at it and hoped for the best now. As long as the chaos continued and their cars and trucks brought them into the town outside Kha Bi where they were supposed to talk to the contractors, she worried by no means at all about herself and her forces.

Badass Blackjack

The Security-class frigate sailed swiftly. Naval planes have already been sent off into the skies, searching for the traitorous Air Force. Already, the Navy shot down five planes. The Army shot down fifteen. Yet the Air Force continued to rebel. Paratroopers were losing ground that they took but in the face of overwhelming armor and infantry, they kept on standing strongly. Airbases were being lost to the loyalists. It seemed that it would come to an end soon. If only the Air Force leadership was easy to find and arrest.

The Badass Blackjack detected the Air Force planes heading for Syrnistan. And according to friendly planes, the Aegyptians were coming to fuck those planes up. Now that they have crossed over, it was up to the Azen Navy, with the Badass Blackjack and the friendly planes it already had in the air, even though they were Tomcats and Eagles or even Tornadoes that haven't been upgraded for some time, thanks to the Azens putting ground forces above them, to unfortunately shoot them down.

After some time spent on locating, confirming and locking on to the planes, the Badass Blackjack launched Basketballs, Softballs and Baseballs, missiles which were installed into her for anti aircraft duties. They followed up their missile attack on the traitors trying to enter Syrnistan with modified Standards, while a trio of Navy Pyrelights was being sent in five minutes to make sure that the traitorous planes would never come back to Azenyanistan.

by **Forest State** » Sat Nov 11, 2017 8:00 pm

Kha Bi, Syrnistan
Marando Security

“So we’re finally getting this thing rolling,” muttered Hessica Costa, as she joined Cam Marando outside, both of them in their military dress that consisted of grey fatigues and loose black berets that were a symbol of their organization. They were supposed to meet with the rebel leader that had set them up with this stronghold in the first place, the one called Arinshania. And despite being sent here to help her and her movement, they hadn’t actually met her yet. “I’m just hoping the leader is someone we can work with. If we have to work with Azens in the first place, it would be better if it’s with someone that isn’t a piece of work.”

“You sure look down on the people that are responsible for our paycheck right now,” Cam remarked, adjusting the rifle that was strapped onto his back and then gesturing for Hessica to follow him towards a courtyard. “We’re not here to make friends. We’re here to do what the clients want, so we can get out of this with a paycheck.”

She pulled at her fatigues and pointed to her neck, showing a shrapnel or burn scar from long ago. “If you’d toured North Cemeralia as a mercenary, you would also hate having to work with these people,” she said, still speaking in a low tone that was almost a growl. “If it wasn’t for company loyalty, I wouldn’t be here right now. No paycheck is worth reliving the times when I nearly died at their hands.”

“Let me do the talking, then. And we’ll get this meeting over as quickly as possible, before moving to more interesting things,” Cam said, placing a hand on Hessica’s shoulder and reassuring her. “Everyone else has welcomed us… I don’t see why the leader wouldn’t.”

The Continental Wars (IC, New Ausozera Only)

Pocket Aces

vein

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