The 4th Malesti-Bohi War (Sunalaya Only)(CLOSED)(IC)

[Molenston]

The sun which beat down heavily on the Wukund Desert is the only infinite being to know of the plight and anger felt between those of Bohi and Malesti. For 5000 years of recorded history, the two tribes have fought long and bloody feuds. Situations grew more tense as weapons advanced and the peoples could now claim millions within their ranks.

Molenston sided with their history; those nations belonging to the West and to the Empires of old. To better themselves through science and art and literature. To become important in the eyes of a parent, while keeping its sense of history and honour.

The Bohin sided with their new god. A place of hardship and riches, their god would bestow upon them the mental wealth of their enemies while their land granted them the material wealth of the earth. It was in their god and their leaders they trust. With their armies and power which they proclaimed this trust.

No two people have been in conflict for as long as these two. And the situation is destined to continue until the end of time…

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Welcome to The 4th Malesti-Bohi War RP! This is planned out to be a fun one. But take it easy, it’s school time. No need to rush into things or even post long winded posts. I expect nothing resembling a novel in this RP. A couple sentences to a couple paragraphs is all that’s required. And have fun! That’s what this is all about. While the situation will focus mainly on the border disputes and war between the two Ziamban countries, feel free to add your own national subplots and arcs to this story. The more the merrier! If you have any ideas that you feel will tie well into the main story, feel free to tell me!

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Mortar fire ricocheted off the metal bracket which made up the makeshift defense wall. “It’s a dud!” shouted the Molenstoni captain, first in Malesti, and then in English for the others to understand. He quickly reached over a short outcropping of the wall to pick it up and throw it back towards the Bohinian border. His gun hung on his shoulder. There was nobody for him nor his team to shoot. Just to duck and hope that Bohinian mortar fire did not hit them directly. He expected another hour before the mortar fire would stop and the firefights begin again in earnest.

This was not their usual strategy. Where were the waves of tanks and soldiers, hoping to steamroll the border? Did the Rezuan strikes truly take out the masses of forces the Bohin had prepared? The captain thought it was unlikely, not that he did not have faith in the precision of the Rezuans. But, for once The Bohin was thinking strategically and not falling into old habits, and that worried him more than anything else. What could they be planning? He looked around at his squad of 24 soldiers, all huddled together under the sound of the mortar and artillery barrage. The ground shook were sand and dirt rose up into the air. But luckily no one in his team as of yet was injured. Not today at least. His last thought before turning to look towards the Bohinian side of the Wukund was if they would finally be allowed to attack. To show the Bohi that they would not hold the course of this war in their palms.

Initial Malesti-Bohi War Map.
Yellow is capitals
Green is Bohi cities with military bases
Purple is Malesti cities with military bases
Pink are small towns of some relevance
Brown is Malesti Port cities
Blue is Bohi Port cities
The pink crosses are locations of fights and or battles in the passed 3 weeks.
That weird dirty green border is the current lines of the war

[Ophioneus]

Marxist Controlled Uszwa

Ferapont Aleksey walked off the staircase and met the man welcoming him with a warm embrace. "Ah, Aleksey, it is a pleasure to see you," the military man smiled. Aleksey returned the favor. Feroze Hassan was the leader of the Marxist State's forces in the region. Or rather, the bunch of scrawny men in the bed of pickup trucks holding assault rifles. Or at least that is what they were until Aleksey arrived. A undercover trainer provided by the former Soviet Republic to arm and trade the Marxists, Aleksey was back. Despite doing what he formally was doing, a few things would be changing. The agent pulled out of the hug which morphed into a handshake. "I am glad your people still see the value of supporting us, freedom fighters," the commander added. Aleksey smiled. He was glad the man did not take his two month leave poorly.

"The goverment change happens, as you know. We will give you some different weapons this time," he added. "Same rules apply. Unloading under a shed or darkness. I will have a few men coming soon to continue training the freedom fighters," he added. The commander broke the handshake and pointed over to a small tent by the control tower. Despite the obvious shrapnel holes, the airport could still handle small passenger aircraft. That is what Aleksey needed. Calmly the two men walked over to the tend, where ice water and chairs awaited them. Aleksey listened closely while the commander spoke about the struggles of the past month. Land taken, some land lost. Men killed, others joined. They were basic things. While Aleksey would remember valuable points for later, he had a different mission. Over his months in the poor country he had created a network Aleksey's employers wanted to exploit. However, he had to change his network. Now he had to smuggle weapons into the Bohin and make contact with radical Bohin Baptists. It was a new mission, one that would be dangerous. However, it would be easy. Commander Hassan controlled a strip of boarder along the Uszwa/Bohin boarder. With the new supplies coming in, a little money would hopefully turn one connection to another. To smuggle weapons across the boarder and to train insurgents would be tough work. But Aleksey was paid well.

[Belantica]

200 Miles off the Molenstoni Coast
2nd and 3rd Fleets of the RBN
For the past two weeks, the two carriers, being the BNV Wallace Macomb, a light carrier formally known as the FRAS Menderson when it served Aznazia, and the BNV Viktoria Kellner, a Rubin-class supercrarrier, and the other vessels safeguarding the carriers from any hostilities, continued on their humanitarian mission to sending in fresh food and water to Molenstoni civilians. So far, nearly half of the two-million gallons of water were sent into the nation via VTOL aircraft traveling to several airports to drop the much-needed aid off to be dispersed across Molenston. This was not the only mission of the RBN's deployment to the region, but to ward off any attacks or blockades on civilian cargo ships going in and out of Molenston, making sure the nation did not have it's supply line cut off by hostiles. On top of that, fighters that were carried on board kept watch from the air and escorted the transport planes to and from their drop-off locations, as they were a potential target.

Fleet Commander Grace Holton watched over operations on the bridge of the Viktoria Kellner, while consuming what probably is her 6th cup of coffee that day, truly living the stereotype of a Belantic naval officer. For the last week or two, all her job had to do was to make sure supplies got loaded, the planes made it to and came back in one piece, and no major disturbances on shipping lanes were caused by armed assailants. Not too long later, a petty officer came into the bridge and saluted Holton. "Madame," he said, "We just got confirmed reports that The Bohin has began to attack Molenston from sources on the ground there, and high command told me to inform you, Commander." Holton then took off her glasses, "Is that so?" she said, "Well then, that means we will have to redirect some of the fighter aircraft towards the mainland then, get me the flight commander and the captains of the carriers on the horn (slang for telephone/radio) to make sure they can free up some jets for the mainland, and make sure they keep some on standby in case it hits the fan in these waters."
"Yes, madame!" the petty officer said with a quick bow, and then he proceed to inform the captains the the flight commander. Not too long afterwards the pilots were given a briefing on the new plans.

"Alight, listen up!" the flight commander said in a strong tone, "Our orders have been altered by the MOD and Commander Holton, however these new orders are more or less built off the previous set of orders. Thos assigned to the airlifting and escorting of supplies will continues to do so until all deliveries been been made. For the squadrons patrolling the air around the shipping areas, half of you will remain on marine patrol duties, the other half will be moved to patrol the mainland over the Molenstoni-Bohini border, and assist the Rezuan air force with anything they need assistance with. This will go into affect at 0700 hours tomorrow, understood?"
The pilots nodded their heads, aware of the new set of order given to them by the flight commander, who was now heading to his bunk to change out of his officer's uniform into a flight suit, as he decided, despite opposition from the captains and the fleet commander, to lead his squadron towards the mainland, and he didn't want to waste time before departure. His name is Joseph Alta, a veteran fighter pilot within the navy's air force, and jnow he wants to prove that he still has what it takes to be both an effective commander and pilot.

[Rezua]

Bohin's Southern Sea,
RIN Augustus Everen

It was not usual for the pride of the Rezuan Naval to be sent out to war. Although, this was no ordinary war. Captain Andre Schmidt knew very well that the otherwise supportive role that the Rezuan navy played in war was suddenly thrust into a very important role. Only 4,000 Rezuan troops guarded the Bohin-Molenstoni yet, nearly forty warships and hundreds of aircraft hung about the Bohin like flies to a plague ridden corpse. And that's what these people were to Captain Schmidt. Well...their military at least. They were a plague that needed to be destroyed.

Technically, Captain Schmidt was not the main man in the operation. Nor was his friend, Captain Morgan Grimelle, the Christina Everen's captain. No, the men in the super-carriers were only the "field" commanders. Regardless, Schmidt had assumed the responsibility of coordinating strikes on the Bohin. He was the acting commander in this operation.

It was a simple enough plan, have the jarheads hang back by the border until the Bohin capitulated. Schmidt highly doubted the stupid bastards would ever surrender though. The Naval Aerial Warfare Department (NAWD) and the Rezuan Air Force were tasked with destroying Bohini tanks and armor by the border. Meanwhile, the Kurzeran Province would constantly hurl missiles at key Bohini military installations. Captain Schmidt did not give his fleet permission to fire missiles at the Bohini. Instead, he was waiting to use them to defend the fleet once it fell under attack. For now, the fleet just had to be patient.

The Bohin-Molenstoni Border

I'm getting too old for this goddamn shit. Master Sergeant Isaak Gutermuth stood with the last member of his original platoon, Volker Bachmann, looking across towards enemy positions. Isaak's old platoon had either not re-enlisted or had been killed. Most had survived, but the loss of those who were sacrificed was a burden that weighted on the survivors dearly. So it came down to a stubborn master sergeant and a hopelessly optimistic field sergeant to continue the "Raiders". There was, of course, one other person who was still enlisted, but she was not Rezuan. Ymira, or as she liked to be called, "Y" was a Rhodeve who had fought in the same war that Isaak had been wounded in. For as far as he was concerned, they were still a unit, whether she was in his army or not. He had heard that the Commonwealth had deployed its army and wondered if she might possibly be looking at the same dismal landscape he was looking at. Every now and then, an explosion could be seen in the distance. Sometimes, Rezuan fighters screamed overhead to rain missiles and lead down on enemy units moving into position. It was nothing new.

"Hey, Isaak" called Volker "looks like shit doesn't it? Do you think we should ask them to cook 'em medium rare for us?" The older soldier pondered so a moment "I'll take mine extra crispy and served like the shit they are." While they did chuckle a bit, it was mostly forced. They'd used that joke dozens of times already, boredom being their enemy well their real enemy sat on its ass and took a beating from above. Like the navy, they too were waiting.

[The Bohin]

Iwen Wakker bowed low in front of his leaders, the council of leaders whom are themselves ruled over by the dictator Abdu Sugmei. Iwen did not ever attempt to fool himself into believing that Abdu was a noble leader, voted in by the people term after term. Abdu was a dictator as was his father and grandfather and great grandfather before him. Just another leader in a long line of dictators. Not that Iwen generally cared much for the dictatorship, nor the religion which his regime so strongly enforced on its people. For all Iwen cared about, it was no worse than any other political system. As long as he was allowed to rise up higher, he would do as was asked of him. And presently, much was asked of him.

"General", Iwen turned to see a young boy, no more than 13 years old missing two front teeth, yet still holding a machine gun over his shoulder, rush into his room. The boy's Bohi was rough, missing the hard 's' in most words and the almost guttural quality of the language which came about through age and time. Iwen nodded to the boy, allowing him to continue on with his message. "Captain Besiji said that his men are done with their tasks. Molenston's lines are ready and-"

The room shook, dust falling from the ceiling. The boy stopped and looked up, nervously. Iwen did not even budge. "Continue." He ordered. It was most likely a Rezuan air strike. Not that it mattered. No foolish general would put their important weapons above ground in range of a simple air strike.

The boy regained his nerves. "The bombs are placed. Everything is awaiting your orders."

Iwen nodded, more to himself than to the boy. His strategy had been slowly coming together over the last few weeks. It had taken almost twice as long to convince the Bohi leadership which stood before him to accept his plan. Break from their strategies of attacking on mass. "Thank you, now be off." The boy saluted and ran from the room, not daring to even look at the wizened old faces of the council before them. Iwen could remember being just as scared of them as this young boy was now.

He turned to face them once more. "It seems like the Malesti and their allies are ready to attack. And we are ready to meet the first wave and counter it. My spies have also informed me of Rezua's continuous involvement. They seem to be getting a bad reputation amongst their own allies of pushing too hard too soon. And of course they are placing too much money into matters such as this. With a strong first strike, we can make up for lost time. And possibly gain ground. Instead of the last war."

He looked directly at the man sitting to his far left. A Wazi Kinn, an old general of The Bohin and the one to lead the country in the disastrous 3rd Malesti-Bohi war. Wazi nearly flinched at Iwen's gaze, but didn't. Yes, all was going according to plan...

[Rhodevus]

Captain Singh tied her hair back into its usual braid, letting it fall on her upper back. She placed her cap on her head, a sort of desert camouflage colours which went along with the rest of the uniform. On her right shoulder, a golden eagle insignia. On her left, the flag of Rhodevus. Under both were the common markings which represented her as a captain in the Commonwealth Army. She had been stationed in Molenston for about four months and was still getting used to the heat of the mid-afternoon sun. She was lucky enough to be in the second line of defenses; where the majority of the Commonwealth soldiers were situated until Molenston and the Commonwealth agreed on a plan of attack. For now, it was Molenstoni against Bohi. Singh had grown used to the occasional mortar attack from The Bohin. Maybe accompanied with loudspeakers shouting dangerous remarks in the native Bohi. Or Malesti. It always confused her how the same language was called different things on either side of the border, yet there were absolutely no differences. She was still rusty on her Malesti, but it had been improving greatly.

A loud whistle was heard overhead, followed by an explosion. Singh flinched slightly. It was closer than last time. She turned to her superior, a major who was reading over maps and whispering into his walkie-talkie, which fed back to the Malesti front-line. "Sir." She said cautiously. The major lifted his head, acknowledging her.

"When do you think we will be going on the offensive, or at least finding out The Bohin's plan? It's unlike them-"
"It's unlike them to stay so quiet for so long. I've heard that too many times. It even has the Triumvirate stumped. The Molenstoni military and government are itching for a fight and while the Rhodeves are pressuring them to hold back from an offensive, it seems like many in the Commonwealth, us included are siding with them. Not sure how long it will be until the Rhodeves themselves get involved." He scratched over the Ispanzan flag insignia on his left arm. "Probably won't be until Molenston officially requests it."
"Would they seriously wait that long? The Molenstoni are..."
"Hard-asses? Stubborn? Already indebted to the Rhodeve after half a dozen battles? You pick. If it were up to me, I'd have them involved already. We might need their navy. Or air force at the very least. They do have two bases here, but they have orders not to engage. Something about Divergia? I don't know." The major was cut off by the buzz of his walkie.

Ndi ochichi Molenstoni ekwenyewo. Ihe mkpasu iwe na-amalite na akara ise.

Singh could not fully understand the message. "Government confirmed? Mark hours? I think I missed some words there."
The major nodded, his mouth in a deep scowl, but his eyes shining through careful joy. "Molenston's government has confirmed. The Malesti offensive is to begin in 5 hours. Pack your bags kid, we're going to be the zeroth line."

[Rezua]

Bohin-Molenstoni Border,
Command Station Wyvern

Though not the furthest from home she'd ever been, Lieutenant Colonel Rebeka Lizbont certainly was growing impatient. After her involvement in a war against a large Bannerless Brotherhood cell, Rebeka had never felt free. Whenever she tried to serve her position as an ambassador, she was reminded of the blood that was being spilled while she talked. On her hands, she could still see blood. True, that blood deserved to be taken, but that did not make it any easier to do. Rebeka felt torn between her job and her memories. Fighting to recover a friend from the hands of the enemy. Smashing in a man's face with her fist. Blowing a man's joints out one by one with a revolver. Staggering from her own wounds. A plush chair and a desk could not keep her out of the military. These memories couldn't be buried or forgotten. They were who she was. She had to embrace them. After all, Kurzera was still a possible target of the Bohini. The mainland had Christina Everen as the face of its military protection. Perhaps Kurzera would soon discover one in Rebeka.

Despite currently having aerial superiority, Rebeka was expecting the Bohini to move soon. They had declared war and then simply sat around and taken air strike after air strike. The fact that they had been so blatant before and now were quiet troubled Rebeka deeply. Growing tired of reviewing Bohini movements and known positions, she turned to Major Fredrick Bauren. He was a bit on the shorter side, standing at 5' 6". He had a trusting face that was almost always in some sort of smile. His wide glasses only added to his already bright face. "Major, take over for me, I need to walk a bit." Without another word, the dark haired woman stood and exited the command station. Fredrick called after her "Ma'am, Colonel Orswel wants to see you by the Armory!"

While technically a lieutenant colonel, Rebeka was the sister of the grand duke, making her a duchess. Therefore, she decided to make Orswel wait a bit. Long enough so that she could grab a coffee. She turned left and entered the cafe, where she got on line for a coffee. While waiting, she noticed a man she'd seen two years before under much more dire circumstances. Rebeka tapped his should and said "I think we met before, Master Sergeant..uh..." The man smiled "Name's Isaak. And you probably wouldn't have remembered me by rank, I was promoted after that incident." Rebeka shook her head "Damn shame that so many nations have just...forgotten our loss. They never want to actually admit that the Brotherhood almost had us. And that horrid weapon they used..." Issak shrugged "It's politics. You can't be a government if you just admit to failure all the time. Failure to spot danger, failure to act, and then failure to respect those who died acting for them." He signed and smiled wanly "Well, nothing we can do about that right?" He picked up his mug, now steaming with bitter coffee. He walked past her towards his forward position "See you around Madam Ambassador." She smiled "It's Lieutenant Colonel now!"

Reflecting on her choice, Rebeka wished it was strong alcohol and not strong coffee in her mug. Colonel Orswel was a rather hard man to deal with. While not physically imposing, his tongue and his colorful vocabulary could make enlisted men shrink into their kevlar vests as if they were turtle shells. His bold swagger and tendency to screw up his face in a grimace or curse only added to his interesting charisma. "Goddamn, woman, the taxes aren't paying you to get a bleeding coffee. Fracking savages got their panties all up in excited knots just waiting to slap us in the balls. We're just sittin' here with are ass in the wind waiting for it to be-" The duchess interrupted "I know you're upset about not invading-"

"Upset about not invading? We could be fracking in their capital by now. Let's stop screwing the inevitable and go balls deep-" Rebeka nodded "Yes I get it. It's not me you have to convince." Orswel was momentarily halted in his profanities. He quickly found his tempo again "It's that panzy Parliament ass licking in the Navy that's keeping us at bay. Hold the dogs of war 'eh? I'll shove my boot down his throat so far he'll deep throat that sucker!" Rebeka sipped her coffee, thankfully she took it so strong. Dealing with the old colonel was was draining on the ears and sanity. Unfortunately, he was somehow connected to her father, possibly serving as his second in command. Her brother just didn't have the heart or the energy to tell the old fart to retire. At sixty-seven, most men wanted to leave the field. As the colonel poetically said when asked by his superiors to retire, "I'm not going to be some desk humping waterboy! I'll keep his field for myself." He was like that grandpa you couldn't get to shut up about how badly West Rezua smacked East Rezua without even firing a shot. Rebeka grinned suddenly, it was a damn good think the Everens were made the monarchs. Her family and their close friends were rather...excitable to put it gently. She deeply loved them, but she believed that they're be a bit more chaos and lead in the world if it weren't for Yosef Everen keeping certain personalities in check. And now that task was Ymira Everen's.

Innocently, Rebeka asked "Did you talk to the general?" The old man snapped, "General McBootlicker? No! I talked to the Chief of the Army! Madam Arwenia's too young to tell her mother's milk from napalm! I've been ass-kicking since before Commander Everen and her husband were. And who do the people rave about? The attractive youngsters. The girl with the billion Rusig airplane. All it takes is a gun and some ammo! Boom! Their go those Bohini asses!" But he wasn't even done. Not even close. "Then I phoned the Empress. It took me an hour, a fracking hour to be connected. Those panzies are like 'Who's this?' and I'm like 'It's your fracking mother! Who do you think it is? Colonel Franklin Orswel, Triple Imperial Star winner! The palace has a fracking picture of me shaking hands with the passed Emperor!' So anyway, I'm roasting this snobby nosed secretary when the empress finally answers. And who know what she says to me? 'Colonel Orswel, do as everyone else has told you and just wait for them to attack. Our only goal is to defend Molenston.' And I'm trying to be polite here so I said 'With all do respect, Ma'am, but they're all nitwits!' And then she said 'Do as you were ordered or so help me I'll come over there and smack you around so goddamn hard the Bohini will think I've just demolished their entire army.' And then she hung up!"

The old colonel crossed his arms "Mothers and their baby hormones driving them crazy. Her father woulda said to me 'Frank, you're right, lit up those smucks.'" He signed "It was a damn good time when we were kicking the Tsar's balls from under the table back then. Such good times..."

[Belantica]

Bohin-Molneston Border Area
Altitude: 7000 feet

for airmen John Gossling and Adam Bryant, the flight towards a Molenstoni town named Wasenna , 30 or so miles from the border, was smooth, there wasn't too many clouds out, so the view from the flightdeck of their small cargo plane was quite beholding, on one side, they saw Molenston, on the other, they saw The Bohin. Both of them thought that there wasn't much they saw from high up that stood out, the land on either side looked the same to them. They were about an hour from the airstrip that the town had, their job was simply to deliver, offload supplies, and head back to base, not much more. Gossling was piloting the plane, whilst Byrant got onto the radio to contact ATC.
"RBN one-oh-two to Wasenna approach, we are approximately one hour out from arrival, flight has been smooth sailing so far."
"Wasenna approach to RBN 102, good to hear from you, if you can move a little faster, we are in need for those provisions you have on board."
"We're trying, but we have have is not very light and we are running at full speed on only 200 knots, hope you have a welcome party for us when we touchdown."
"Wilco, see you soon RBN-102."

Everything seemed to be going smooth, until a loud "BANG" was heard coming from the rear, which shook the plane. "What the hell was that?" Gossling said in a disgruntled voice. Seconds later, another loud bag was heard, and shook the aircraft even more violently, which then triggered alarms relating to fuel and engine power. "Shit! They got Engine 2, we're losing power rapidly!" Bryant yelled at Gosssling. Then the altimeter started to drop- 6900, ten seconds later, 6800. "Great, they must have spotted us and fired AAs on us! Engine 2 is now fubar and we don't have enough power or fuel to stay airborne to Wasenna!" Gossling then yanked the yoke all the way to the left, heading into Molenston. "I'll be damned if we let the Bohini even get their hands on these supplies!" The altimeter kept dropping lower and lower and Gossline was now setting his eye for anywhere he can crashland the plane without too much breakup. Bryant then got back in contact with ATC.

"Mayday! Mayday! We've been shot by Bohini AAs and are going down!"
"RBN-12, hand in there! Are you guys going to make it?"
"Negative! We are putting this bird on the ground due west of the border. We're trying to save it, but are unsure."
"Do you know where you're putting it down? We'll send forces your way to collect you and whatever cargo's been sparred."
"We're heading into Molenston, it looks like we're in a relavitely flat area and *static*"
"RBN 102, do you copy? RBN 102? Are you there? Do you hear me?"

The plane's radio died, and now Gossling and Bryant were unable to get in contact with anyone over radio. Gossling aimed the plane towards a flat area. "This is a good enough impromptu runway!", he said to Bryant, "but our landing gear is locked, so this is gonna be one one rough-ass landing! Better brace yourself!" It wasn't long for the belly of the plane to touch the ground, it did so with enough force that it started to carve into the land much like a plow did, leaving a trail shaped like the plane's fuselage, with fragments scattered about. Once the plane came to a stop, Gossling and Bryant began their slow accent from the wreckage, and climbed out one of the emergency hatches. "Shit, I was not expecting this to happen, and where are we?" Bryant said. "War has nothing to expect, and right now, we are somewhere not far from the border, with no way to comm our location. You still have those charts?" "Yeah." Bryant said, "they're in my bag, along with a compass." "Well don't just stand there, go grab that shit! And also grab those pistols and ammo they gave us, we might need them to save our asses or get dinner!" Bryant then clmibed back into the wreck, and was able to retrieve not only navigations tools, but their standard-issue 9mm pistols that they had in case of situations like this.

Gossling:"C'mon, let's get the fuck outta dodge before them Bohinis roll up on us!"
Bryant:" What about all this supplies? Are we just gonna let them take this food, water, and a whole-ass jenny?"
G:" We don't have a godman way to carry that shit on out back! We have to leave it and risk losing it! We have no choice until we find some friends!"
B:"I see, let's take a a good amount of water, this place is as dry as a bone, and the last way we're gonna die is by dehydriation, I'd be damned to let that happen!"
G:" Well hurry up! Grab what we can carry on our bdoeis, and let's book it!"

They collected enough supplies to last a few days in the rough environment, maybe a week at the most, and begun their trek away from the sight, heading westward into Molentston, hoping they can find some allies or friendly locals. The map some something to go off of, but didn't show everything, as both of the airmen now needed to rely on their sruvival skills to make it out.

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BNV Viktoria Kellner
2nd and 3rd fleets, RBN
200 Miles of Molenstoni coast

Commander Holton was overlooking the paperwork regarding the mission, making sure everything was being sent to where it needed to be, what plane it was being transported on, and who was piloting said planes. She seemed rather calm, for the time being. Suddently, a young female officer stormed into the room the commander was in. "Madmame commander!" the young officer said, "One of our transport planes went down!" The commander got up from her desk and set the cigar she was smoking onto an ashtray. "Which transport plane? Holton asked the officer. "Number 102, it was heading towards Wasenna," the officer spoke nervously, "ATC has confirmed that 102 made a distress call, but they are unable to pinpoint where it went down. It was reported by 102 before losing radio contact that it was stuck by AA fire."

Holton then took out a handkerchief and wiped her face with it, "Just we we fucking needed." she did in now a very upset, almost angry tone. "Why did they shoot down on of our planes? Are they trying to disrupt aide to Molenston?" The officer scratched her head and said, "I believe so, they would have seen the news about us conducting for humanitarian operation, and it wouldn't shock me if they wanted to throw a wrench into that." Holton was now beginning to turn red, "Did they even realize what they just did? Did they even dare to spit on our nation trying to help our brothers and sisters?" Holton then leaned over the desk, "Then, they have asked for war, and war they shall receive. Get in contact with Commonwealth command, the Rezuans, the Rhodeve, the whole lot of them. We need to make sure they remember what happens when they tried to spit on us." The officer then bowed, and asked, "Is that all, commander? What about reinforcements from the homeland?"

Holton then smiled, "Yes, that will do, and make sure this message is passed along to Karen and the woman this ship owes its name to."
"Yes, commander, I will inform them" The officer then proceeded to the ship's communications area, where they made the necessary contacts, declaring assistance.

[Molenston]

Bohin-Molenston Border
4:15am
“All good on lateral.”
“Check. 200 meters to the Bohin border and closing.”
“Formation is optimal.”
“No sight of Bohi artillery or tanks. Infantry positions are in A1, A3 and C17.”
“Copy. Commonwealth forces to follow suite when missions is deemed successful.”
“100 meters to the Bohin border and closing.”
“Keep your eyes peeled. Stay in formation. Do not lose track of your wingman.”
“50 meters and closing.”
“Weapons free.”
“Fence is being pushed over. No movement or noise from the Bohin lines.”
“Nothing? Keep a close lookout. Objective remains the same.”

Captain Iddi followed his wingman tank over the stretch of no-man’s land. Between the downed fences that made up the heavily guarded border between Molenston and The Bohin. And yet it was silent. Not a single attack by the Bohi as they pushed farther inland. Some 20 tanks pushing towards the nearest military installation. A perfect first outpost in the Bohin’s territory to bring about the Bohi’s surrender. And yet, nothing. They were prepared for heavy fighting, with air support and infantry standing by if the onslaught was too much for the tanks.
“400 meters to objective.”
“No sign of movement.”
“Speak up, Lieutenant.”
“No confirmed movement. Infantry lines still stable.”

The captain grumbled. “Speak up Lieutenant. 350 meters to objective.”
Static.
He looked over at the driver of his navigator of his tank. ”Where is the Lieutenant? And the rest of the division?”
“Still here Captain. Still in perfect formation.”
“I am losing communication with them. Can you-”
“Tank P3 is offline.”
“What?”
“It… is gone from the map. P7 is offline.”
The captain quickly peered through his visor. He saw multiple tanks in close formation progressing to the target. The military base. Yet, he did not have full view of all his division. And communications were failing.
“P9 is offline.”
“Call in air support!” The captain yelled, moving his tank, so that it fell within range of as many of his line as possible. The other tanks slowed down to follow his lead.
“P4 is offline. Air support is bringing in only static.”
With that, the captain saw a plane flying low, swoop in, firing on a tank, blowing it up high.
“P5 is off-”
“I know. Gunner! Fire on that plane!”

Bullets began echoing through the night sky. The sounds of the captain’s tank were copied by the remainder of his division. The captain scanned the ground for movement. He saw a whistle of smoke and then his wingman’s tank shook with the brunt force of an RPG directly in its side.
“Navigator. Keep me up to date and try to get a signal back to base. We need air support. And infantry. I think we’re-”
His wingman’s tank blew up.
“Change of plans, get us out of here. Full retreat, I repeat, full retreat!”
As Captain Iddi began turning his tank around, he heard his navigator. “P11 offline. P13 offline. P8 offline.”
The remainder of his tanks followed him, slowly being picked off by heavy fire. The Bohi were heavily dug in, with the best disruption technology the country could buy. It was a trap. One which the Molenstoni fell into.
“Navigator. How far from the Molenstoni lines?”
“Just another 150 meters.”

With that, the captain saw his route being blocked as tanks, hidden among the sand dunes came into view. The captain stopped his tank. He signalled to his shooter to aim at the closest Bohi tank, letting out a strong blast which shook the metal vehicle. The Bohi returned fire. One more strong =, well-placed round and the Bohi tank exploded, bringing a cheer from Iddi’s tank. This was quickly silenced when the navigator said, “P10 offline.” Another one of their team, gone.
Bohi tanks encircled the captain’s which stood alone among the enemy. His division mostly gone or lost among the sand dunes facing their own perils.
The captain heard static on the radio. A small voice coming through. “P1, I repeat P1. What is your situation?”
“They’re back!” Iddi shouted in delight. “Tell them to send in air support!”
“Homebase, Homebase, this is P1. We are facing heavy fire, we request immediate air support on our location. I repeat, immediate air support.”
“I hear you P1. Air support inbound in 5 minutes.”
The captain was unsure they would make it that long. He pushed the tank hard, sending sand flying out behind it until they were beside the destroyed Bohi tank, using it as a shield. “Listen up. We have 5 minutes. Nav, you try to get in contact with whatever remains of our division. Get them here as quick as possible. We are building a defensive line. Gunner, take out the closest tanks. Try to block the line of fire for anyone else. If you need me to move, let me know as soon as you can.”
They echoed their agreement and quickly got to work.
“P20 and P19 are held up 50 meters South. P18 and P14 are offline.”
“Keep going. Bring them here as quick as possible.”

“Captain! P6 is at your service.” A rugged voice said from the radio.
“P6, This is P1. Start a defensive line near us.”
“Confirmed.”
“This is P15 with P16, where do you want us.”
“Help P19 and P20. Free them and get over here as soon as possible.”
“Confirmed.”

Quickly, the battlefield was littered with tank fire. The RPGs and air attacks by The Bohin seemed to stop as soon as the Bohi tank lines engaged.

P1 was very banged up when the Molenstoni and Commonwealth bombers appeared overhead, raining down hellfire on the Bohi tank lines. The air support allowed the few remaining tanks, only 8 from the 20 tank division to retreat back to the safety of the Molenstoni border. But, things did not look good from that side either.

Captain Iddi climbed out of his tank, watching as lines of Molenstoni soldiers walked passed them. All bruised and battered from some sort of intense fighting.
“What happened?” He called out, unsure of what to do.
“The Bohi attacked the coast. Sent fishing boats through the mines and then sent in their Navy. Ours was prepared for an ocean based attack, not one coming in next to the shore. The port is gone. Hundreds dead. Don’t think they lost a single ship.”
Iddi became furious. Not only did they rout his own offensive, but they used Molenston’s focus on a quick attack to cause massive destruction. A port like the one they lost in Ubbeval would be irreplaceable during wartime. The Bohi had a strategy. And it seems like they were now unafraid to play the long game.

[Rezua]

Molenston-Bohin Border

Isaak was enjoying his sandwich when a enemy shell flew over his head, imploding behind him. The blast sent the sergeant flying five feet back into Volker. Isaak sat up groggily, his eyes swimming and his ears ringing. And god that headache. "Jesus Christ!" shouted Private Monvek as he jumped up to look over the fortifications. "Fracking idiot get down!" Volker shouted and he dragged the young man to the earth. A few seconds later, a bullet zoomed over their heads. "Sarge those mothafrackers are advancing!" Private Norbis yelled. Volker laughed "No fracking shit. Are all you boys from Kurzera geniuses?" Leave it to Volker to make jokes whilst death zigzagged over his head.

The four imperial marines fired over the sandbags from cover as they moved to a better spot. Volker lead them back to the mortar the privates had been sent to. The sound of an advancing tank scared the shit out of Isaak. Rezuan tanks were holding back a group of Bohini tanks but some were slipping past. He looked up for a second to see the flash of a barrel. Behind him, a Rezuan tank bucked with the shot, damaged but not dead. It fired back, missing the Bohini by inches. It did manage to kill a couple of infantry. "Boys, we got armor! Take them out!" Isaak shouted. Another shot and an explosion let him know that their countrymen in the tank we probably dead. Just as he was going to mutter a curse, a machine gun roared to life from the tank. Volker glanced over and yelled "She's not gunna move again but their gun turns. Just-" This time the Rezuan tank was struck by a shell dead center. It exploded, having taken three shells. It had taken one tank with it. Still, there was a tank baring down on Isaak and his men. One soldier tossed a grenade but it fell short. The tank answered by obliterating that soldier and those around him. Volker screamed at the mortarmen "Fracking privates fire! Fire!" Needing no more encouragement or preparation, Monvek and Norbis launched a shell from the mortar. It struck the enemy tank, knocking out the treads. Their next shot destroyed the turret. Volker smiled and hugged Norbis. "Thank you. Finally, someone can shoot a mortar right, even if they're slow as shit." he said. Isaak took pity on the poor men, they were close to being shell-shocked and had to suffer Volker's shitty battle humor.

Above the Molenston-Bohin Border

Technically, she was just supposed to be observing the fight. Thing is, you don't ask Christina Everen to fly into a warzone and then bench her. That's like benching your best player during the championships. Christina didn't need to beg the coach to put her in, she just went. The only issue she had was that her husband was her wingman.

"Goddamn it, Richard, please just go back to base!" she shouted over the radio. The Rezuan ace rolled as a SAM zoomed past her aircraft. Her husband, while a lower rank, wasn't going away that easily. "Just because you're a superior officer and also our princess doesn't mean I can't protect you. You're my wife. Where you go I go!" Christina was stubbornly debating that "Are you going to make me order you, Captain Everen? I'll write your ass up. You were not approved for this mission." Christina rolled past another missile, firing off flares to redirect it. She dove low, firing a missile at an enemy tank, destroying it. "Either were you" was her husband's reply to her last comment. Christina scoffed "I basically own this branch. I'm the flipping heir until my niece is eighteen. What are they they gunna do, fire me? They'll court-marshal your ass. Then I'm suppose to support you and a future family on a military salary? Bullshit. Ground your ass." Christina saw Richard dive down to destroy a mobile missile launcher. He pulled away just as an old AA turret mounted on a truck opened fire at him. Christina grit her teeth and rolled upside down and throttled down. In a matter of seconds, she targeted the turret and fired a missile. It lit up like a rag soaked in alcohol. No one had the right to try to down her pilots. not after those she was helpless to save in Rhodevus. Christina was about to roast her husband again when another pilot interrupted "Christ Almighty people, I'm here to kill Bohini not listen to a domestic dispute. For the love of jumping Jesus, just give him the flipping clearance."

There was a pause. "Shit. Frack you Jakob. Hear that Richard? Yeah, you're cleared to fly. Un-fracking-believable." Jakob answered "You're welcome Mom. Now that Mommy and Daddy stopped fighting, everyone please be quiet so I can have peace-shit mothafracking missile launcher is below us. Someone go get that while I shake their lovely present. Jakob swerved and fired counter-measures. He had plenty of time to spare and soon continued "Right. Be quiet. My allergies are killing me." Luckily for Jakob, the enemy was being routed.


Molenston-Bohin Border
Command Station Wyvern,
Five hours after the attack

It did not take a rocket scientist to tell that Colonel Franklin Orswel was pissed off. Expect he wasn't pissed off. Rebeka looked on while Orswel looked down at a map sadly. He spoke to her in a calm tone, most unlike his usual self. "Hundreds dead. Gone. They pin ranks on us, give us stars for bravery and courage, and do they listen? No. Hundreds dead over fracking politics." He hadn't raised his voice, but he knocked over a collection of books, logs of patrols and the like. His jaw was set in rage as he reached for a drink. His shoulders sagged as if under a great burden. "They give us impossible jobs. Defend our allies but don't go into the Bohin. Politicians. They don't understand a goddamn thing. How many people are going to have to die for the empress to stop giving a shit about the west? When are we going to elect a real leader? For Christ's sake, they sent five ships to guard that port. Five ships. Our navy is pathetic. Laughable."

Rebeka was caught off guard by the colonel's sudden shift of the conversation. "Sir?" Rather than answer, the old man turned to her. "Rebeka, do you remember General Saxton? Good man, friend of Emperor Yosef, killed in the Summer War? He told me once, during that exact war actually, that the Rezuan Empire had shot herself in the foot. The issue is our war guilt, from the Tyrant's War in the 40s. Emperor Augustus was a great man, honorable man, but he was so eager to please the West. Frack them. Frack them all. Rhodevus, Aznazia, the lot of those rotten pigs." The duchess of Kurzera stepped away from her superior office. "Sir, what you're talking about is treason." she said sternly. The old man sighed "See? This is the issue. A man talks anti-west and suddenly we're tsarists. No, I'm not a tsarist. I'm a patriot goddamn it. Look, I actually do care about Molenston. And the west. The people. It's the governments I can't stand. Except Molenston's. Those people got balls and accountability. Let them handle their stuff and they won't frack with yours. But the west? Their have the balls to tell us that we aren't keeping the peace. It's because they wrote the wrong, fracking, rules. We can't keep peace if we can't topple these religious wackos. Hundreds dead because some pussy in Aznazia or some cunt in Rhodevus or some dick from Ventismar tells our empress that she can't kill these dogs. They tell our government that we must speak to wolves as they devour the flock. No. I'm done with this bullshit. That's not how the world works. It's us versus the assholes. If a dog barks at you, you tell him to shut up. If he doesn't, you clobber him into submission."

Orswel took a drink. "Hundreds dead." he spat "hundreds dead because we bow to the rules of the west. We aren't a western nation. They're push-overs. They don't lift a finger if their country is safe. Tell me, where is Aznazia? Isn't the Commonwealth their ally? Belantica is here, putting these frackers into holes. Damn fine people. They don't give a shit about the west. Frack their sanctions, frack their rules. They rule with their sword arm. They protect their people and they strike down their foes. That's who we need. A queen who will kick instead of bow. Empress Ymira should take some notes from Queen Karen. Goddamn! What a woman! What a leader!" He paused "Your brother and I are supporting Ana Leonart in the next Parliamentary election. Imperial Party take over time, completely legal of course. We're going to get the veterans and the working man, Rezua for Rezua. And her allies. Her real ones. Like Belantica and Molenston. Pretty words mean bull to these nations. It's Rezua and Belantica and Molenston and whoever else wants to, to beat them into submission. Peace can only be won with sacrifice. I want you to vote for Imperialist Candidate Ana Leonart. She's fought with us, for us. The empress fought with this woman at her side. Absolute badass. I wish we'd had chicks like this when I was a lad. Leonart will bolster our military and give us a navy worth a damn. The empress is a warrior, she just needs the right woman whispering in her ear. Her wife keeps her from ruling Rezua like she did once. Military funding over education and welfare. Remember those days in 2011? Good days." He pointed at the map behind him "She'd have won this war like those battles against the tsarist remnant. We need to stop listening to the west and start telling. Hundreds died because they would pisss themselves if we advanced first. Hundreds died over hurt feelings because of "invasions". It's stop to stop making Bohin and these assholes into victims. They're not victims. They're assholes. And I'm gunna roast me some assholes. Just wait for that election."

Port Ubbeval

Though not technically hers, Viktoria Pearson was growing used to the whole "royalty" thing. Each ship in the fleet might as well have been hers, if she asked she'd probably be given them by her wife. If only to annoy parliament. True, this wasn't a large fleet and their captains had different orders than her. But she had command of the marines and military police aboard these ships. In total, she directly directed 1000 troops herself. Other Belantican commanders had more, but that only made sense. Viktoria had never commanded this many men before.

She smiled at the sight of the winged sword and golden stars that rested on the navy blue banner of the Rezuan Empire. Her homeland. Karen was her family, and thus her home, but her love for Rezua would never fade away. Even if she had become a Belantican citizen. Her smile was both in reflection and of pity. Reflection of her old life, and the knowledge that the Empire had sent five ships to protect a port already hit. True, the Rezuan fleet had begun patrolling, but there was no way the Rezuan fleet could cover the entire nation. That was one flaw about her former nation that Viktoria realized early on. Despite their will to protect and their might in arms, their navy was a poor companion to the rest of the Commonwealth. Strength in the skies and on the soil would not be enough, and Rezua was too stubborn to admit it. So here Viktoria was, coming to help her kinsmen once more.

The Belantican escort fleet would drop off Viktoria and her mixed unit of military police and marines and turn for the larger Belantican fleet that was baring down on the Bohin. For now, Viktoria wanted to restore a semblance of law back to this obliterated port. Destruction brought opportunity to cause chaos, which Viktoria would not stand for. At her heart, she was a stark believer in equality and justice. She was a Rezuan at heart. Yet, she also knew she couldn't fix every problem herself.That would take time and consolidation of power and hierarchy, a restoration of order. She was Belantican in thought.

When her ships launched the landing boats, Viktoria was glad they had warned the port of their arrival. The Rezuan destroyers loomed overhead, turrets posed to aim on any ship that refused to stop at a certain point and identify itself. Their precautions were too little, too late. Viktoria had heard that the Rezuans had sent parts of their fleet to other ports to try to prevent this from happening again. And she also knew that they would be leaving their own carriers less protected to do that. Such a Rezuan sacrifice. Noble and infatuating too extreme or too careless.

The Belanticans landed ashore and were met by Molenstoni and other Commonwealth troops. Viktoria Pearson went to meet their commander. They were an international mix of Commonwealth troops with a Rhodeve as their leader. Beside the bearded man with the rank of captain was a blonde woman. Her neck was scarred from fire, burns that had healed long ago. She wondered what had happened to this woman.

"I wasn't expecting to see Belanticans here, outside of our unit of course." the Rhodeve Captain said," I'm glad you told the Rezuans of your arrival. They're...a bit overprotective when it comes to civilian casualties. Good people, but sometimes I think that they're doing too much when it should have been done earlier Still...I'm sure they'll be helpful the next time this happens. We won't be taken unaware." Viktoria nodded "I agree. Anyway, I am Princess Consort Viktoria Pearson, Commander of the 304th Marine Battle Company and the 12th Precinct of Military Police. We number one thousand troops and are willing and eager to assist in anyway you think we could." The captain scowled "The Molenstoni in command here wants all new units to be put where he wants them. He's a general snot nose and thinks that since this is his country he must be the final voice in everything. Still...he probably has a good idea of where you need to go."

He turned to the burnt woman beside him "Sergeant Ymira, please take Princess Viktoria to see General Alomi." She frowned when he said "Ymira" as if that weren't her name. Or rather, she didn't like that name. The woman saluted Viktoria "This way your Majesty." As they walked away from the captain, the woman hissed. "Bastard. I hate that name. Why can't he just call me Y?"

[Belantica]

RBN 2nd and 3rd Fleets
50 miles from Port Ubbeval

The boats that transport Princess Viktoria and her men made their way back to the fleet, which moved more towards the Molenstoni coastline to provide protect after the attack on the port. The Rezuan navy kept watch over the ports, but it's size wasn't enough to cover it effectively, but could when combined with the Belantic fleet in the area. The carriers were moved closer to the coast, in order to increase the effectiveness of the fighter aircraft now being deployed.

Commodore Holton, and captains William Greeves, Dane Bohner, and Marie Davis, were gather around a a table, on which lied a detailed map of the region they are operating in. It not only contained points of interest such as major cities and towns, but also know military installations. There was also lines sketched on the map, indicating where they thought the Bohi submarines came from to attack Port Ubbeval, something they don't want to happen again to any remaining ports. "From what we know," Greeves spoke, "their subs came from one of two possible ports, which I have highlighted on the map, since both of these would be able to host submarines while keeping them out of the eyes of the public." Bohner rubbed his chin. "Is that so? And do we have any form of confirmation on whether these ports are in fact places that can host submarines? Because if these aren't military and we decide to take them out, we're going to attract unwanted attention to ourselves. The last thing we need are those damn Divergians over here fucking up everything." Greeves then cleared his throat, "Well, lucky for us, one of our satellites was able to capture an image of what appears to be naval vessels docked at these ports. However, we cannot confirm this with footage taken hundreds of miles above." Commodore Holton then said "We have to know for certain about what is happening in The Bohin, and right now, we don't have a really clear view on what they're doing, let alone where those two missing pilots are."

"So, should we get a hold of our friends in the Bureau to see if we can get a pair of eyes on the inside, commander?" Bohner asked Holton. Holton then nodded her head "Yes," she said, "we should take and utilizes any advantage we have, if we can get someone on the inside, the better it is for us to end this war quickly."
"But, we aren't authorized to do that, either Parliament or the queen has to give approval to get a spy active." Davis said to the others.
"In that case," Greeves added, "we should get a hold of the queen, chances are, she'll say yes, since her wife Viktoria is now over here with about 1,000 troops."
"Then so it is," Holton said, "we'll do just that, you three are free to return to your normal duties, I will get in contact with the capital to get this ball rolling."

---

Royal Palace
Eastern Enfield
Nowadays, it wasn't common for both Karen and Viktoria to be separated for so long. Even if Karen didn't 100 agree with her wife on this, she still let her go to Molenston, just with ample protection. Now, she sat alone in her office, looking out the window in which rain pelted against the glass, while smoking on a cigar, thinking about Viktoria. She really has a need to serve, I can't blame her for that she thought to herself, maybe because she is there, it may give Belantica some extra leverage should anything arise. Karen knew that not only would Belanica's allies would have expectations, but she knew that other countries in the region, and some of the more dominant nations, would be watching their moves closely, waiting for any mishap to paint Belantica as a nation of war criminals, and she wasn't going to let them have that chance by planning every action carefully to avoid such confrontations. Soon, an aide knocked on the office door, in which she told them to enter. The young aide then said "Madame Queen, we just received a request from the fleet off the coast of Molenston, direct from Commodore Holton."

Karen was now standing by the edge of her desk, "And what sort of request did they have? I already am working on providing some assistance on the ground with tanks, so what to they want?"
"Well," the aide started, "they are requesting that we employ some espionage tactics in The Bohin. They have identified possible sources of where the Bohi has stashed away their navy, but can't confirm whether these sites are truly naval facilities, and would want someone on the inside to give us a pair of eyes on what's going on that we can't see from our own side."
"I see," the queen said, "but I'm concerned about whether or not that plan will work. Sending in someone to conduct espionage work can be difficult, and could pose consequences if word gets out, meaning all of our asses, including mine, would be on the line."
"I understand, madame," the aide continued, "but, I'm sure the Bureau would be able to pull this off without exposing this, they are quite good at keeping things quiet."
"That is true," the queen replied, "and when I come to think about it, having someone over there collecting intel for our cause would prove to be a useful advantage for the entire Commonwealth at this point. So in that case, I will authorize the Bureau to deploy an agent. Send notices to the commanders of our allies, the Commonwealth, and our own about this. They might find this very helpful."
"Yes, madame!"
The aide then walked out of the office and went towards the area in which messages were sent out. The message below was sent to those who needed it the most:

To: Commanding officers of Belantica, Molenston, Rezua, and the Rhodeve Commonwealth
Encryption Level: High
Message: As a part of the effort to subdue The Bohin into not being able to fight, we have come to the conculsion to use espionage tactics to gain valuable insight and intelligence on The Bohin's military moverments and capabilities. We find that using such tactics, including the deployment of a spy, will be useful to the cause of protecting Molenston and pushing The Bohin back. The spy's job would be to identify and report on Bohi military movements and installations for our forces to deal with. This of course, is a ihgh-risk operation, and we understand this, however, we feel as though the benfits will outweigh the risks at the end of all of this. On top of that, Belantica will be sending over at least 300 tanks and an additional 100 fighter aircraft to help push back Bohi forces. Please do not to hesitate to get in contact with Belantic commanders, inldui9cjg Commodore Grace Holton and Princess-Consort Viktoria about his, or alternatively, contact either the MOD or the queen's office directly. We hope that this will help our ally Molenston, and deliver swift justice to it's enemy.

From: Queen Karen Pearson

---

Bohin-Molenston Border
"C'mon, we gotta keep moving, we'll hit civization eventually, if if we have some pissed off soldiers trying to find us!" Gossiling told Bryant as they continued to make their way through the wilderness, with Bohi units not too far behind. "Well, that's easy for you to say!" Bryant yelled back at Gossling, "I wasn't no fuckin' track star in school like you was! besides, we've been going for hours now since the sun set." Gossling shook his head, "Well we can't stop to rest now, the night is our friend if we're on the run. if we'd travel during the day, we'd be spotted damn easily, and probably be riddled with bullets." Bryant sighed, but knew Gossling was right, it was safer to move at night rather during the day, as being detected is much harder when one has the cover of darkness. They continued on, until they spotted something over the hill they climbed up. "Would you look at that," Bryant said, "looks like we've found a shack, out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Who'd live here?" Gossling looked over at it, "I don't know," he said, "but whoever lives in that shack down there is clearly someone who has no intention on being found, or even being on the grid. Because it looks like they have a setup to where they can grow their own food, collect rainwater, and get energy from a solar array, a very nice setup indeed." For a few minutes, they sat there, think about their next course of action. "We should go down there and see if anyone's home," Gossling said, "because who knows, they might be nice and take in a couple of stray foreign pilots for the night, and give us a chance to create some distance from those guys, because I know they sure as hell won't want to climb up this steep-ass hill for a couple of pilots, in fact, I think they've stopped for the night, probably because someone out there might be giving them a hard time." Bryant nodded his head, "Okay, let's head down there, and hope we aren't killed."

They made their way towards the shack that sat of of view of everything in the general area, and soon were upon it. They looked around, and didn't hear anything aside from the bugs and nightbirds. They saw the grille of an old Lancet pickup truck from the 70's tucked away in a shed, and the greenhouse that looked rather out of place in the desert. They went towards the main door, and knocked. "Hello? Is anyone home? Hello, anybody in there?" No responces, but for some reason, they tried opening it, in which it did without much effort, and inside revealed a small living area, what something cooking on the stove inside. "I don't like the looks of this, someone is here, I can sense it." said Gossline. Bryant didn't care, and went inside, Gossline of course, followed him in just to not be left alone. They looked around the dark living area, and couldn't see anyone, but focused their attention on the pot being cooked. Gossling lifted the lid off of the pot, and beans were being cooked inside. As both of them watched the stove, a silhouette appeared in one of the dark rooms, and slowly moved towards them, and then stopped before the light, pumped the shotgun in his hands, and said,. "Who the hell are you two? And what the fuck are you doing here?!" The two pilots froze in place, put their hands up, and turned around, "W-we mean no harm, sir,j-just wanting a place to crash for the night." Bryant said very nervously. "Hmm, that accent, clearly you're someone from New Albany, I lived there once, long ago." the voice said, now slowly walking into the light, revealing his bearded face and glasses, "So you boys are Belantican, huh? I was born there, and now I'm here." He then lowered his shotgun, seeing that the two pilots are not a threat to him, only wanting refuge.

"Wait, you're from Belantica?"
"Yes.
"Then why-"
"Quit asking questions, that is my job. Now, why would two Belantic pilots be in my home that isn't even found on a map?"
"Our plane was shot down by The Bohin, and-"
"Ah, so you are here because you're helping Molenston. Fair enough, I can see why, a man like me can live pretty well without being bothered here."
"we wasn't expecting to find this place, we've been on the run for the last few days, and need a place to hold up, rest, and maybe get something to eat."
"Well, I guess I can provide that for you, seeing you don't mean any harm and hail from the same place."
"Why thank you sir. And what's your name by the way. I'm John Gossline, and he's Adam Bryant, both serving in the air force of Royal Belantic Navy."
"Nice to meet you, I'm Douglas, and what did you say about "Royal Navy" now? What happened?"
"Didn't you hear? The old government got thrown out for many reasons, and we now have a queen that's getting the country back on track."
"A queen? Interesting, I never thought Belantica would do such a thing, replace the rpulic with a monarchy."
"Well Doug, some things just happen, like us walking into your house."
"I guess whatever happens, happens. Now, you two can rest on the floor, I only have one bed and that has my name on it. There's extra blankets and pillows in that closest over there."
"That you, we won't bother you too much, or stay for too long."
"It's fine, I don't have many unexpected guests, so rest well, you boys will need it."

[Rezua]

[Molenston-Bohin Border
Command Station Wyvern

Silence captivated the command tent. In the center of the room, Colonel Franklin Orswel was red in the face. He had gotten his wish, Kurzera was sending an addition 3,000 troops to Molenston to curb the Bohin's attacks. But he would no longer be in command. "Bullshit." he hissed. "Goddamn bullshit. Pushing me to second in command for some pet of the empress." Rebeka Lizabont answered him almost immediately "General Brandon Ramford was in command during Konetya. He's proven his ability to command an outnumbered force and claim victory. The Bohini have more troops than we do right now. General Ramford is our best option for a defensive war. Sorry, sir, but you are a man of action. Right now, we don't need you to be leading an offensive." The colonel wheeled around at her, forgetting who she was for a moment "The hell did you just say to me pencil-pusher?"

The duchess crossed her arms "Empress Ymira chose to have a different man lead this war. We should trust her judgement. I did, back when I was killing Brotherhood members. Or did you forget that? Colonel, we've all killed men. If not all, then most. And even then, we've all fought. Before you go mouthing off, I suggest you be silent. Accepting orders rather than arguing against them is probably why Ramford is a general and you are not." Orswel snarled "So that's it? You're an Everen then? The Empire is more than just the Mainland. Kurzera is the Empire too. We need more than just words. We need to take back our military might." Rebeka shook her head "Well until election day, we're not going to be rushing into conflicts. Wait for the reinforcements and let's keep the Bohini back, like we have been."

[Vesvai]

With Vesvai’s internal unrest being settled, it was now fully ready to commit to the Commonwealth defense. The Royal Vesvaian Security Forces originally deployed to Molenston early on, when the tensions only began to rise, but no open fighting was happening. Vesvai had deployed 115 troops for military exercises and to remain stationed in Molenston combat-ready. In addition to land forces, Vesvai had sent 2 fighters and 1 bomber jet as part of an aerial contingent. 2 frigates were deployed as part of naval presence. It was not what Vesvai was ready to commit in total, but it was more of a symbolic gesture of Vesvai’s military presence. Vesvai showed it was ready to fight for the Commonwealth against outside enemy.

Post-election unrest in Vesvai caused the military to pull out and focus on troubles at home. 115 troops, 2 fighters, 1 bomber and 2 frigates have all been withdrawn. Vesvai’s army was facing the troubles of collapse. Half of Vesvai’s military broke away and formed the traitorous anti-government Vesvaian Revolutionary Army, which raised risk of civil war. Vesvai’s soldiers had to fully commit themselves to their homeland first and allies later. It betrayed Vesvai’s ideals of being a committed member that cared for the whole Commonwealth as much as it did for itself. Fortunately the unrest eventually calmed down and life returned back to normal. Pro-government and anti-government forces never clashed, but never fully reunited either. It still left the military with personnel deficit. Still a change in situation brought back Vesvai’s chances of committing to Molenston and the Commonwealth defense again.

Royal Vesvai Air Force and Royal Vesvai Navy had deployed back to Molenston, joining the war against The Bohin that has broken out. PM Matthew Praeterit was seriously committed to defending Molenston and though he has since resigned because of party pressure, Vesvai’s government has remained on course. His successor PM Jonathan Mollisal has made it clear that Vesvai remains committed to defending Molenston and is very protective of its Commonwealth allies. He had regularly repeated that to the media since his appointment.

Molenston’s border regions with The Bohin

The Royal Vesvai Air Force was policing Molenston’s skies close to the border with The Bohin. Their goal was to bomb and strike invading Bohi forces advancing into Molenston’s villages, towns and cities. Their goal was to take the invaders out in their tracks, preferably in the fields and deserts, before they could reach civilians. Vesvai did not yet deploy ground troops, but was open to doing so. Their mission would be to train Molenston’s forces on the frontlines, but Vesvai was also ready to send soldiers to fight in defense of Molenston’s capital, in case The Bohin got that far.

Molenston’s territorial waters, international waters close to The Bohin

The Royal Vesvai Navy was expected to see less action than the Royal Vesvai Air Force or the land army, if it were sent. They were stationed in Molenston’s territorial waters and also in international waters outside of The Bohin’s sovereign waters, without crossing into them. The warships had very similar objectives with the jets. Off-coast, they would fire shots at the advancing Bohi forces into Molenston, also in order to stop them in their tracks. At certain cases, they were ready to fire shots at The Bohin, targeting strategic objects.

[Molenston]

The allies of Molenston filled the airs, sea and grounds of Malesti land, swarming like buzzards and flies. To the aid of the people and country but adding greatly to the stresses of war. It was clear that The Bohin was not acting alone. It had aid from somewhere. With the announcement of the “Rhodevus Agreement” between Rhodevus and Divergia, many suspected the Rhodeves would enter the war before long. It had been three weeks and four days since the war had started. The Port of Ubbeval had been destroyed leaving countless dead and displaced. Many moved for inland, towards the capital which lay in the heart of the deserts of the Wukund. A place many thought foolish to build a capital city, but did not know of its history. Of the ancient magics which those of old had once believed filled the desert.

Molenston City was inhospitable and hot, but it was near impenetrable. The desert being the first line of defense. The brave Malesti, Molenstoni and their allies being the last. Inside this formidable city, the senate held session as usual. No air raid sirens would be sounded. The war was still too close to the border, mainly along the farming lands to the South.
“What can we do?” spat a Molenstoni senator, speaking in the language of the land. “Our army is combined with that of the Commonwealths, Belantica, Rezua and others and yet there is no point to these massive forces when the Bohi will not give us a target to hit.”

“Our last raid into the Bohin was an utter defeat. Seventeen tanks. Seventeen! Destroyed before we even breached the city. The desert is just too inhospitable.”

“What say you to end this war, Gunthed?” The senator Weibba rocked in his seat. “Should we do what The Bohin is doing? Make small border skirmishes and slowly bush back our border? It was three weeks ago that the attack on Port Ubbeval, god rest their souls, happened. And since, they have been pushing towards it. They now border the city ruins. If our navy was not still stationed there, I bet it would have fallen. It is still set to take another week to find any remaining people trapped as well as remove any security and confidential files from the navy base there.”

“The Rezuans have offered their support to defend the remains of the city and to help with relocating our people.” Chieftain Bwubba said. “I have already accepted the offer. With Bohi anti-submarine vessels and submarines themselves patrolling the international waters and along our coasts, we are losing the war at sea. One destroyer gone. Four Mine-Warfare Ships and two patrol craft. If we don’t win a decisive naval victory soon, we might not have a navy left when this war ends. Win or lose, without a strong navy, we will be unable to defend our oil deposits along the shores.”

“At least we have air superiority.” Gunthed relpied.

“For now.” Weibba responded. “We have the numbers. But we also need decisive victories there as well. And the Bohi army under their new general has opted for a different strategy. He hits us with glancing blows. Targeting areas that are weaker. If the Rezuans and Belanticans are in Reikyama, he hits the Vesvi in Subbelan. If the Commonwealth army is preparing an attack to push back the Ubbeval border, he attacks along the Bauir.”

“So, we need to secure our connection to the front lines.” The Chieftain nodded.

“Secure the connection and rid ourselves of spies and traitors who are no doubt helping the enemy gain this intelligence. And like what was previously said, we need a decisive victory. Not in our homeland, but in The Bohin itself. I think it may be time to risk a push against the capital.”

The crowd of senators filled with shouting and arguments across and inside party lines. The gavel hitting the hard wood did little to diminish the rowdy senators, yet the Chieftain demanded their silence. After a few minutes, the room grew quiet once more, yet still filled the air with great intensity. He beckoned the senator to continue.

“We are losing our navy. Very soon, we will be relying fully on our allies for the defense of our coasts. Why not attack Sugmei City? It is near the coast, if not directly on it. We send our entire fleet along with whoever’s navies wish to join. When we cross into Bohi waters, it would be clear to The Bohin where we plan to attack. They would have no choice but to defend their capital. It would give us the opportunity to win a decisive naval victory. We can limit their control of the seas. And, if it is decisive enough, we can fire on Sugmei City itself. Even a moments attack on their capital would be a great victory and boost in morale for our soldiers. Especially after the defeats and retreats of the last few days.”

The Chieftain nodded. “I would like this be pushed forward as a quick resolution. Do I have any support?”
“Seconded.” Called out a senator.
“Thirded.” Called out another.
“Fourthed.”
“Fifthed.”
“Sixthed.”
“The six parties are in agreement. We will call a fifteen minute break and then we shall vote on this course of action.” With the pounding of his gavel, the room of senators dispersed.

The voting itself did not take long. Attacking Sugmei City was a tense issue dividing people not on party lines but on moral ones. It could be a great victory, or a horrendous defeat. But the votes were cast. When the final numbers were displayed on the screen behind the Chieftain, the room was quiet. 124 to 211. The yesses had it. They would be attacking the capital of The Bohin. Word went out to the generals and admiral of Molenston and to those in high ranking positions in the Commonwealth and their allies who were helping in the defense of the country. And to Rhodevus.

The attack would be launched in four days.

[The Bohin]

General Iwen Wakker poured over his maps. The war was going beautifully, better than he could have hoped. Within 48 hours he would have control over the remains of Port Ubbeval and Reikyama. If all continued going in his favour, he would be able to look at the security files of the Molenstoni army themselves. Strategy, people in high ranking positions and time tables. So many time tables. His forces were split up, attacking day and night at the Molenstoni border. Attacking at Belantican, Rezuan and Molenstoni ships. He made sure to know whom he was attacking before sending in an attack. He made sure that he knew the weather and the waters on every meter of land and sea before his plan was signed off on.

And most importantly, he made sure to never push his advantage. Those who push advantages are sure to meet up with destiny. Those who push advantages will push until they can no longer do so and eventually lose. It what happened in the last war. The tank armies crushed Molenstoni border and the Molenstoni army. And then they tried to push for the capital and were slowed by the desert. And then the Rhodeves and RCA arrived they were handedly crushed. The pride of the Bohin destroyed in a matter of days because the generals chose not to stop at defensible lines.

But not this time. General Wakker would make sure he would succeed where his predecessors failed. Even when his dictator and government were already starting to despise him. They wanted what, so many other foolhardy leaders wanted. A front page story. A decisive victory over their enemies. And yet how could he do such a thing with such enormous odds against him? He had strategy in place in case certain threats were posed before him, but for now those could remain in his mind.

He received a call. It was a lieutenant on the front lines. “Yes Lieutenant?” He spoke calmly.
“We are ready to engage along the Bauir.”
“Are those in Port Ubbeval ready as well?”
“They are sir.”

“Then you may begin your assault when they begin theirs. Remember that the border town must be secure by midday. I expect a Rezuan counter offensive will push you out. You want them to sustain casualties.”
“Yes sir. We will begin shortly.”

The Bohinian tanks were still the pride of the Bohinian government, but Wakker knew they were aging. What he needed was soldiers on the ground. And he had plenty of them. 4,000 trained elite soldiers stood facing the front lines. Beside them was the Bauir Reserve, the only freshwater lake that the Bohin had access to. Behind the soldiers were some 15 tanks and dozens of mortars, who had been hitting the town and its neighboring one for over 13 hours. The tremendous heat from the sun wafted down on them. It was hot with very little moisture in the air, yet a subtly cool breeze fell on them from the nearby water source.

At the command of their lieutenant, the mortar fire resumed once more, focusing on civilian residences. Tanks began pushing forward, firing at carefully chosen points in the metal fences and gun towers which lined the border of Molenston and The Bohin. There was an explosion as a weapons cache was set off. The tanks rumbled through the grasslands at the Malesti defenses. Soldiers with sniper fired at soldiers of all ranks and civilians they could spot. Medics were a prized target. Many of the Bohi had wagers on who could kill the most of their kind before the small town fell to them. And how many more would die when they were pushed out by offensive forces.

Why attack a location they already knew would fall back into enemy’s hands? They did not know. They just acted. Did what they did best and killed the devil spawn.

They had only a few planes providing air support and cover, but it was enough to get through the gates and walls and towers. Soldiers fell dead to the ground as the Bohi worked methodically through the town as they were trained to do. After an hour, the town hall was in their grasp. The Bohi tanks were positioned into defensible positions as they waited for a counter strike.

The anti-air defense systems were moved forward into town and the soldiers themselves dug in, using the Molenstonis own defenses against them. And now they waited.


A small force waited beyond view, hiding in the heat of the Great Wakkeila Sand Dune. It was a marvel of nature, how the land transformed from lush grasslands to thick desert sand so quickly. The dunes were tall and wide. Great to hide a section of soldiers and tanks behind. Great for an ambush…

[The Seven United]

Aygon City, The Bailor
Unitary Defence Commission
Operations Center
13:20 PM

The Operations Center was the focus of all missions and talk about security matters. It was relatively new and reasonably sized, built in 2004 as a part of the expansion of the Unitary Defence Commission. The room was dark and blueish even though the white lights above shone down onto the floor, which was white and medically clean. Counters lined the sides of the room, with computers on them plugged into the wall sockets. The seats looked as if they were never sat on, and the magnificent war table sitting in the middle of the room was beautiful and see through with glass in the centre. Office chairs just as they lined the computers lined the table, which sunk into the floor with steps around it. Though it wasn't empty, sitting on these black chairs surrounding the table was the Defence Committee whom was summoned from across The Seven United to chair a meeting with the Defence Commissioner, who always knew what was happening before the committee did. The committee members were long serving officers in each respective state and took time to travel here to answer the summoning outside of the regular monthly visit.

The door swung open and the Defence Commissioner came in, walked down the steps and sat down on the chair laid out for him in the centre of the meeting table, the Committee stood up and saluted just as the man holding the door did, the Commissioner looked at them all then his eyes glared downwards onto the sheets of paper he had bought in with him. He placed all of his papers on the surface along with all the other committee members papers, full of text that would prove useless. Infront of him was his little card, "Sermen Rodriguez" the newly appointed defence commissioner. He was the choice of Ahina and Soldurs Des for his loyalty and smart mind. He immediately started talking to the Committee members who were annoyed that they had to be summoned so quick for this. "We are going to war, people. Ahina has addressed the media and we have the go ahead to begin operations. You know where and you don't know why. We have allocated five thousand and sixty troops to go to this conflict that may be surprising to you as it is to the contrary of what our unitary Commissioner said. They will step on Molenston and possibly Bohi soil and they are there to protect aid convoys and help civilians in dire need delivering water and food, supplies and medicine to the hard hit people. Our air operations are different, operating with the allies on Molenston soil we will try and bomb the outposts of the Bohin. The 2nd Damsmarian fleet will be sent there and will resupply at Narunto in Belantica, just like the last drills. Hopefully this makes it clear, and you have all been assigned the goals and operative men and equipment for which you will command, as your experience dwells in these quarters I trust you to carry out the goal." He handed out classified papers to each of the Committee members, and all of a sudden his pile was so much smaller.

[Pantorrum]

Cormiar Marine Operations Base
The United States of Pantorrum
7 p.m.

A single C-130 sat on the runway. It was preparing for a top secret operation, sanctioned by the President himself. The plane bore the emblem of a humanitarian organization known as the Pantorran Global Relief Initiative. The craft was chartered to fly over Bohin, "humanitarian" supplies, and then circle back and leave Bohin airspace as soon as possible. A second craft was scheduled to fly over Uszwa, landing in the western regions of Bohin on what has been identified as an abandoned air strip. The second craft, a C-17, would be carrying a dozen NSB operatives and 3 Growler's. They were under orders to set up operations in Pantorrum's former colonial holdings of ancient times, on the southern most piece of Bohin. The great port city of Harrare. Built by Pantorrum, the great and sovereign nation would once again spread its banner over Weiffa. One day.

The task force would have one over all goal, to be achieved at any means necessary. Destroy the Bohi Government by ridding it of its top officials. Car bombs, snipers, C-4 explosives, all would be used to spread chaos and disorder. The Director had told them to bring the Bohin state into anarchy. It was something that Alex hadn't forgot. Alex Grauss, the lead agent of the operation, had been hand selected by the President and transferred from Konetya to oversee Operation Black Dawn. He knew what he was doing. He had brought down governments before, it was his skill. And he wouldn't rest until Bohin was nearly crippled for the next decade. He would single handedly do more damage than all of the allied forces combined. He would bring down Bohin, but he would have none of the honor. It was something he had grown used to. In his line of work, honor and recognition was almost non-existent.

He turned to Amos next to him.
"Get the rest of the supplied loaded, we need to be in Bohin before dawn."

The heavily armed agent nodded, and rushed off to finish the final preparations with the rest of the team. The time was nigh. The Bohi people and all of their bigotry and hate would be turned against them. The greatest nation in the world would make an example of what happens when you despise their glorious culture.

[The Seven United]

Arbasta City, The Bailor
Population 347,481
Arbasta Commiss Naval Port
2nd Tridecian Frigate
7:20 AM

Admiral John Culla was ordered the previous day with the operation plans to set the 2nd Damsmarian fleet off to Molenston as a part of the aid programme. The fleet, 2nd Damsmarian was old although containing 17 ships many of them were from the early 1970s to 1980s, just before the Union as we know it was born. All of these ships are Bailorian and Tridecian, frigates, destroyers, cruisers and supporting corvettes. Admiral Culla was a reasonably modest man described by those who worked with him, as he never expected more than what was possible. The documents lying infront of him in the command room of the commanding ship, the 2nd Tridecian Frigate. The 2nd fleet was due to dock in Nuranto, Belantica for resupplying and refuelling. The fleet would leave then onwards to Molenston, though since early plans were drawn up details have changed. Instead of landing straight into Port Wilhelm they will do a detour around the islands to the east, as to avoid any danger to the fleet though increasing journey time slightly. Culla signed off on this, believing that passing straight through would be treacherous considering the amount of threatening Bohin activity going on in the area.

The armada would dock off Port Wilhelm and ferry soldiers in and out using the small corvettes of which there were 6. The troops, numbering five thousand and 60 would land in stages and would then set up a contingency operating base so that for the immediate time there would be command. When all equipment, vehicles and aid plus the aid trucks had landed they would begin setting up four sector points. The Defence Committee, on-board the 2nd Tridecian would spearhead the deployment of aid when everything was on the ground. Sector A would focus on the west, Limpopo, Lusaka and Nelspruit and the villages in-between commanded by committee member James Packham, Committee member since 2011. Sector B was to be allocated the most resources and aid priority, focusing around Reikyama and the surrounding villages on the front line spearheaded by General Sertan Veradez of The Bailor. Sector C, and D focused around Dasel and Port Ubbeval, but forces would be limited here due to recent events. Aid was to be split into these areas depending on the current situation, and supplies would be arriving periodically with good amounts of wait in-between. Sermen Rodriguez would land in Molenston as soon as operations had started to unfold, distributing aid to people in deprivation due to the fighting. Aid trucks would be sent to the towns and cities with convoys protecting each one, as The Bohin are known for there ruthless inhumane warfare they would be prepared for any sort of ambush that may happen.. at least that is what the Defence Commission would contemplate.

The fleet was setting off, as all troops, supplies aid and fuel had been placed on-board. The ships were set to go, and now it was time. As the long journey will happen many new plans will be acquired, information from other countries as what is happening and the change in the humanitarian situation has time progresses. As the situation is volatile and the frontlines may change, so could the sectors. Culla knew the unpredictability of the situation and the guerilla kind of warfare that The Bohin employed, realising that they kept their cards close to their chest and will always be able to flush weak lines straight out and cling on to land gained, as such a mindset was deployed throughout the war Culla knew attitudes had to change. General Sertan Veradez and Admiral Culla were always great friends, going to the same military academy in The Trident and many officers in the command room would notice the fluid kind of conversations that these two employed to solve situations, even though Culla was only an admiral he was incredibly experienced on land doctrine warfare.

[Pantorrum]

PanEx Flight 1905
Uszwa Airspace
Final Approach to Landing

The Captain looked down at the radar as he began making adjustments to align his approach vector. The massive B-777 was one of the largest planes in the PanEx Fleet. It was notoriously easy to fly, thanks to its installed autopilot systems. The pilots hardly had to think as they flew through the air. But landing was something the pilots did on their own. The trickiest part of the whole process. One wrong move and they could end up in a ball of fire on the side of the runway. Fortunately Captain Richard Evans was one of PanEx's most seasoned pilots. He had flown over 2,500 flights in his 25 year career. This was scheduled to be his last. He was ready to retire and be with his wife, spend time with his grand kids. He had worked long enough, he was getting to the age where the altitude bothered him. His bones ached, his joints were swelling. The time had come. He had agreed, for one reason or the other, to do one last flight. A route he had flown only 7 or 8 times before. But regardless, he was use to the hostile nature of the airspace. Ziamban was not a friendly place for aircraft, particularly large ones filled with goods from Ventismar. Nothing had ever gone wrong, though.

This day would be different. As he brought the plane around the city in a large loop, he came within a mile of the Uszwa-Bohin Border. A short distance he had never closed to before. At first he didn't think anything, and continued his semi circle flight pattern. Lowering his altitude to below 4,000 feet, he began to straighten up and come down sharply toward the runway. It wasn't until that moment that the radar showed a flicker. A small, fast object, wailing toward the aircrafts rear at speeds well above what was capable for the B-777. It was, unbeknownst tot he Captain, a SAM Missile.

"Dale, look at that on the radar? It's closing really fast." Before Dale, the copilot, could respond, the alarms began to sound inside the cockpit as the object approached dangerously close, within half a mile off the rear and to the right. "I'm radioing the PFA."
The pilot flipped on his headset and called out to Air Traffic Control in Cormiar and to the Airport below.
"This is flight 1905, we have an unidentified object fast approaching at 5 o'clock. We-"
It was to late, by then. The pilots were stunned by the deafening explosion as the missile slammed into the planes rear. The massive explosion rippled through the cabin. Large containers flew out of the rear and flung themselves in every direction. The plane tore itself apart, large pieces of shrapnel and debris flying away in the wind. The roar of the explosion and the defining wail of the wind further exasperated the situation. The plane, smoking profusely and swirling out of control, slammed into the ground in a fiery explosion.

Presidential Estate
Cormiar
Press Briefing Room

Lt. General Norton stood in silence for a moment as the reporters sat before him, anxious to hear what they had all been called out to hear. Perspiration was clearly visible on his forehead as he struggled with the moment. Public speaking was not his forte, and when the President has told him to address the situation, the senior Air Force office had pleaded for anything else. But the President insisted that the general address what they now know to be a plane crash.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. We have learned that a PanEx B-777 crashed near an Airport in Uswza. The corporate plane was carrying packages boung for consumers in the Ziamban country. As of now, we can say that the plane appears to have been shot down by a Surface to Air Missile. If this is the case, the missile had to of originated in Bohin Territory. At this time, the Pantorran Flight Administration is issuing a No Fly Zone for Bohin and Uswza. The President has called upon Congress to approve the levying of sanctions against the Bohin. He has also attempted to place contact with the Bohi Government, but was unable to do so. The Air Force is under strict directions to make preparations for a military response. That is all at this time."

He walked off the stage, wiping the sweat from his brow. The briefing was over, but the crisis had just begun.
"I need a full report on our available strike craft. Get in contact with the Uszwa Government and request that we be able to use that airport as an operations facility. And we need to get personnel on the ground to investigate, ASAP."

[North Rukonia]

Admiral Georgi Bakalov sat at an outdoor table in Haven, enjoying some Gelato and coffee, when Ensign Mary Nimtz bolted up too him.

"Sir, you need to get in your ship now, we're at war!"

The Admiral choked on his coffee. "What the hell! With who?! Who's insane enough to go against us!?"

"Well, um, sir you see, we are the aggressors. These two nations down south, the Malestis and the Bohis, are at war. We're getting involved to not let the Bohis take over the Malestis. The latter is much more in line with our ideals, and could be a string ally."

"Fine, what are we sending? How many troops? Are there landing strip for air support?"

"We're sending the NRNF Valiant's carrier group, and 5,000 troops. Our first objective is to capture a large landing strip."

"Well then, it's time to get ready. Radio the ships joining us to meet 12 klicks south of Haven." The Admiral stands up. "And make sure the damn army isn't late!"

He stares at the horizon, wondering what will come next.

[Rezua]

Above Bohi-Molestoni Border

Private Brandon Fjorn looked out the window of the attack helicopter, below at the sands. From above, the dunes visibly shifted and danced like an ocean. Fjorn put on his helmet and pushed his glasses up to rest more comfortable on his slightly pointed nose. To his left was another man who was new to the Imperial Air Raiders. His name was Emmanuel Gartner, a man with a strong jaw, noble bearing, and all around muscular physic. Next to him sat Captain Yosef Bretz. He was a lean man with elegant hands that were never still while he talked. All three of them had the darker skin of most Kurzerans, not quite the native tone but no way in hell was it the lily white of the Mainlanders. Kurzerans were mixed bloods, the Rezuan conquerors and the original dwellers of the land eventually intermarried. Almost half of all Kurzerans had a linage of natives and of Rezuans.

The captain turned to face his team. He had to shout to be heard over the wind. "I've always admired Augustus Everen. Not the emperor, like everyone assumes. I meant Augustus Everen Senior. The great-grandfather of the empress was a daring commander during the First Global War. Rather than just sit in a trench, he got up and lead teams around the enemy, hit them hard, and retreated back to friendly lines. Above him, biplanes and triplanes would rain lead down on the Iasonians, drawing their fire. We are the remnant of the noble attack unit. The Imperial Air Raiders have been around for over a hundred years. We are an elite unite, blessed by glory. Below us are some shitheads who think their little pussy fights can beat us. Well more than one army knows how to pull that. We're gunna give them a taste of their own medicine. Oh, and if you look out your righ- nevermind you missed it. That was Princess Christina and the Imperial Arm, boys. Shit, that's a good band name! Anyway, No better air support than that."

Once they had gotten above the enemy lines, further than their armies would be, the helicopters descended. The sound of enemy fire echoed in the sky, even before the doors were opened. Apparently, the princess' unit had already begun the attack. Still, Fjorn turned to see a helicopter explode in a horrifying array of colors. Bretz smiled at them "Don't worry boys, we'll be already. Stick together and shoot at them. You don't have to win, hell, we're going to piss off in a few minutes. Just kick their balls a little." As they began their attack, the Air Raider helicopters began to play the "Off To War Boys" battle song from the 1910 Imperial Overture. A song that had not been heard in the Bohin for over sixty years. Machine guns and rockets flew from the helicopters as they circled around a group of Bohi trucks, troops, and even a few tanks. One such tank ignited as a missile struck it. Above the helicopters, the Imperial Arm hammered the enemy will their missiles and guns.

The next thing he knew, Fjorn was standing in the sand, firing away as he spirited behind a dune. Bretz and Gartner were already trading fire with the enemy from that same dune. Fjorn dove beside them and caught a glimpse of the dead already laying behind them. Bretz looked casual as all hell, loudly humming an out of tune version of the song. The helicopters never touched the ground, the men jumped the final five feet and the helicopters climbed to fire at the enemy. They focused on the armor and the supply trucks.

From behind, a group of Bohi jumped from out of a dune hidden by shrubs. They killed two Rezuans before Bretz spun around. His humming grew louder as he gunned the small group down. One Bohi man fell over, holding his stomach. Bretz walked over to him. Fjorn and Gartner turned around to keep firing at the enemy. Behind them, the man cried something out, perhaps an insult. Bretz's humming grew much louder and was joined by the sound of feet trampling a wounded man. The Bohi grabbed his sidearm with a mangled hand but Bretz stomped on it, breaking the fingers. Bretz kicked the man mercilessly before driving his knee down on his chest. He grabbed the man's throat with one hand and choked him tightly. The other hand grabbed a knife and drove it into the man's crotch. The blade twisted and yanked while the humming drowned out muffled screams of agony. "Die motherfracker!" Bretz finally screamed as he snapped the man's neck. The other two looked over their shoulders just in time to see the Bohi die. "My Lord...Jesus Christ..." Gartner muttered. Bretz smiled "Thank you, but I'm not God. Now, c'mon, shoot those bastards."

After two minutes passed, Bretz grabbed his radio and called the helicopters back. As they ran back to their helicopters, Bretz walked backwards, shooting his gun like he didn't even care. "Get our fallen!" Bretz ordered "No one gets left behind!" The helicopters touched down, their guns screaming. The Air Raiders climbed in and took to the skies before they closed their doors and booked ass for the border. Behind them, the Imperial Arm covered their escape.

Inside, Fjorn got a good look at his captain. His hand was covered in blood and a smile was plastered on his face. "Sir, how are you so calm?" Fjorn demanded. He was sweating and almost wanted to puke from the sight of the blood of his comrades repainting the interior of the helicopter. Several were dead and more were wounded but most were unharmed. Yosef Bretz looked over at the private and said "I was named after a great man, an emperor, a man who beat his enemies. Yosef Everen was too young for the Tyrant's War, but he was old enough for the Cold War between East and West. He did not hesitate to curb East Rezuan trouble when he could. I do not hesitate. I join my soul with those great men when I fight. I fight to win. I fight because my blood is boiling and my heart tells me to kill. I love fighting for my country. I will always keep her safe, no matter what horrors I see. No matter what I must do. I smile because I am proud to defend our great Empire. As any Rezuan should be."

[Belantica]

OOC: because I am pressed on time this is a very abridges post on recent happeniong of Belantican in the Bohi-Molenstoni War. A more formalized post will eventually come, when time permits me.

A spy named Nazeem was assigned to conduct espionage operations against Bohi ports to collect date for the navy.

The 1st Submarine fleet was deployed from Nuranto on a specific missions to hu8nt down and destroy any Bohi naval vessels.

Belantic tank battalions are positioned along the border to help ward of Bohi attacks.

[Rezua]

Unknown Location Deep Within Bohi Lines,
The Bunker

Giving a hideout a name was just disgraceful. At least that's what Mertin Kassmeyer thought. Therefore, he had called this place simply "The Bunker". The others knew where it was, so why should he care? As usual, he kept his blonde hair in a neat comb-over and made sure his beard was trimmed close to the face. Beards that went past the chin by an inch or more were simply barbaric. An educated and learned man should know enough to cut his beard and keep it clean. What was not usual about him was what he wore. His three piece suit was still immaculately clean and ironed. The abnormality was barely noticeable. Pinned to his breast pocket was an emblem, a steel crown with a bronze staff. The symbol of the imperial regent.

Kassmeyer did not wear his emblem often because there was no need. When he had to be ready to greet the people who supported him, he needed to wear it to remind them who he was. The husband and proper successor to their Tsarina, Zoey Hanji. Only the first part was a lie. Mertin had never actually married Zoey. Their daughter, Sofia was conceived out of wed-lock and when they were both still teenagers. While furious, the Hanjis were traditional people and would not have her abort the child. Which Kassmeyer would never have allowed anyway.Mistake or not, Sofia was his child and there was never a reason to be ashamed of that. So there was also nothing wrong with calling Zoey his wife. They did, however, forbid her from marrying him. that would have ruined their plans. A married woman would be seen a woman not in control. If their daughter was to become the heiress, she had to be a symbol of strength. No man could be rumored to control her. Like Zoey's younger sister, Sofia had to be kept a secret too.

After the murder of his wife, and the defection of Cynthia Hanji to the Everen's side, the Hanjis finally surrendered control of the rebellion to Mertin Kassmeyer. The Hanjis, while cousins of the tsar, were not able to beat the Everens. Or rather, because they were cousins to the tsar they never would beat the Everens. Kassmeyer had helped Zoey plan the coup and would have stayed with her to the end, had she not made him go to protect their child. In the end, Kassmeyer could never decide if allowing her to die was right. He loved Sofia but Zoey had been everything to him.

The room filled up with similarly dressed people until the small sitting room in the Bunker was filled. Except the ornate chair at the head of the table. Kassmeyer surveyed the room and counted those present. The important ones anyway. Otto Hanji, sole survivor of the Hanji family. Except Sofia, his granddaughter, and his daughter Cynthia. She had chosen to side with the Everen Sisters though. He was the man who founder this little empire-without-a-nation and was the "bank" of the operation. The weaselly Fyrems. They bred like rabbits, they were the most populous family present. Loyal to the Hanjis for centuries, they acted as go-betweens and propaganda agents. Lord Havard and Lady Havard, still in black to mourn the three sons killed in the Everen Counter-strike. They were tasked with making alliances with scum, like the Bohi. The ancient Lady Veronda Ophanti, Grand Marshal under the deceased tsar. She was now in command of the laughable Tsarist Army. And of course, the red-haired twins, Davon and Frederick Ramstein. They just liked to cause general chaos. Not the most loyal or honorable of men, but good at disrupting order.

Satisfied that the majority of the most important people were present he cleared his throat "Esteemed friends and kinsmen, I thank you for gathering here upon such short notice. No doubt, the ongoing war was somewhat irritating get past. We have assembled here to discuss our next course of action. But first, my I present to you Her Imperial Majesty, Tsarina Sofia Hanji I, Second of her line,True Ruler of the Rezuan Empire!" With that, the oak door to the sitting room opened at a causal speed. Sofia Hanji walked slowly, each step careful picked, as if to determine what part of the floor was worth to come in contact with her. Sofia was the spinning image of her mother, a face with soft features but stern green eyes. She held one hand on her hip and rested the other on her sword's pommel, in ancient tradition. Upon her head was the First Emperor's Crown. More commonly known as the Imperial Crown, every monarch in Rezua's history since the founding of the empire have had it upon their brow. Except the Everens. When Eomeria fell, the tsar fled with the crown, whilst Augustus Everen won the war from the top of the palace. It was a beautiful piece of art, made of gold and silver that blended together into waves. Enticed into the metal were swords and snarling wolves. Sapphires adorned each base of the sixteen spires. The tops were covered by pearls.

While the others saluted and hailed their young tsarina, Kassmeyer only smiled with fatherly pride. The teen girl gracefully took the empty ornate chair by the head of the table. "You may proceed with the meeting, father." she said. Mertin nodded at her slightly, just like they practiced. He clasped his hands behind his back. "Now then, I called us here to discuss several things. First and foremost, elections are coming to Rezua. You all know Ana Leonart." Lady Havard stiffed, the name of Everen war heroes made her shake with rage. Boris Fyrem-the father- asked "The woman who's eye was destroyed and replaced by a Oblarenite synthetic one?" Kassmeyer nodded "The very one. Our dear Ana has become head of the Military Police since then, and now runs for Prime Minister. Her party is currently lead and is nationalistic. With a bit of help, we could help her win." Everyone in the room looked various decrees of shock or outrage. Except Otto Hanji. He was expressionless as ever. "Why would we do that?" Veronda Ophanti asked "Why should we care?" Kassmeyer crossed his arms "Well, if you think getting a foothold in Rezuan politics is nothing, fine then." A Fyrem spoke up, Kassmeyer had no idea which. There had to be at least nine in the room. "How do you propose we bribe her? Money, more power...other favors." Ah, Kassmeyer knew this one, at least in rumor. Henri Fyrem apparently had made it his sole duty on earth to screw every woman he met. A pathetic waste of life. "None of the above, dear friend." Kassmeyer answered.

Now was the part where he "blew their minds" in Sofia's words. "We are going to slowly get our supporters elected under her. They will take her policies to heart and expand them slowly. While no avid lover of Ymira Everen, Ana Leonart would crush anyone who tried to dispose of her. The woman fought side by side with the False Empress after all. No, we will take her party over, and install our ideas into the people. My wife-" Hanji coughed after Kassmeyer said wife. What a motherfracker. "My wife did a great job winning over her naval officers and then the army. What we need is to regain the love the people had for Zoey Hanji. They wanted her to be the empress or at least heiress of Christina Everen. Not Ymira Everen. After Christina became a kinght and an ace, the people loved her. And Ymira too, fool that she was. My wife needed to keep their love, to make them want to fight for her. We must win them over again, slowly, so that when we wish, we can reveal my daughter to the world. This time, Ymira Everen will have to surrender the throne without a fight, at the outcry of her people. In regard to her character, she would never stay in power if she was not wanted. This is the best way to do it, slowly, peacefully. Otherwise the people will rally to her and the world will hammer us with condemnations, possibly invade. The empress grows weary of rule and her people grow tired of not having their glory. Now is our chance."

Davon and his brother smiled almost at the same time. It was damned creepy in Kassmeyer's head. It was also then he remembered that they were assassins. "And what of Ymira and her baby Aria? What of Christina Everen?" Kassmeyer caught a glimpse of lust in Henri Fyrem's eye at the mention of the older sister. Now, Kassmeyer might be a killer, he might be a rebel, but he was not a madman nor a rapist. If the Everens gave in, he would not harm them. Putting Ymira on trial for Zoey's death would make the people angry. Plus, his wife did kind of attack Ymira. As much as he hated Ymira Everen, he admired her. It was sick, to wish his wife's killer was not his enemy. She was a good woman, honorable and noble. So was her sister. Both loved Rezua as much as he did. It was a shame Zoey had not won over Christina Everen seven years ago. Having that soldierly woman support a military empire might have worked. Alas, it was not to be.

"Nothing will happen to them, should they give in." Kassmeyer said firmly. "The Rhodeve will take the Everens with open arms. If we killed them, they would certainly avenge them. Losing our empire to revenge would be foolish. Another thing. No citizens will be killed this time. My wife tried to kill the Everen girl's supporters but it only rallied them. Murder is not how we win. We must have their love-" A man laughed.

Kassmeyer looked to see Robert Vashar clapping and smiling in the corner. Of all the men in the room, Kassmeyer hated Vashar the most. He was a murder. Children, elderly, women, it didn't matter. Vasher, like the red-haired twins, was a hitman. He was brutal and an absolutely soulless monster. And their only connection to the Bannerless Brotherhood, who gave them arms and money. Another group Kassmeyer hated, the Brotherhood. Little more than terrorists, they were undisciplined. But...the offered to overthrow the Rhodeve Kingdom. If that could be done...still, Vashar was a prick. "Why should we listen to you, Kassmeyer? After all, we are all nobles. You're just the guy who banged the woman we picked as our pawn." Otto Hanji jumped up "How dare you!" he shouted "My daughter-" Vashar shrugged "She couldn't keep her legs shut for this commoner. He's-"

Sofia shot the Rezuan Brotherhood agent a look "If you speak of my mother or my father in such a way again, I will make you regret it. Understand cur?" Vashar laughed "Well, Mertin, you trained that dog to bite." Another Fyrem -Maria- voiced her opinion "Vashar, our Tsarina is not to be the butt of your jokes. She is our rightful ruler and her father was chosen to be our regent by Otto Hanji, the founder of the New Empire. He trusts Mr. Kassmeyer's skills at these subtle things. He helped plan the civil war." Vashar smiled "Ah, another loser than. why isn't Otto regent?" Lord Hanji answered "Because I'm suppose to be dead you idiot. I can't meet with our allies in the Brotherhood if I'm dead." Vashar only giggled. Sofia examined her nails for a moment before saying "Now that our dear friend has spoken, I believe we should decide if my father's plan is worth undertaking. I, for one, support it." Lady Ophanti rolled her eyes "Of course you do." The Fyrems, however, voiced their agreement almost immediately. Not a complete waste of a noble house it seemed. Most of the others agreed. Only the Havards and Ophanti were against it. Joke was on them, this wasn't a democracy.

"Now, I believe we should only help the Bohin in small things." Kassmeyer said "We can't reveal ourselves fully. Rather, we should just have our favorite twins destroy some ships, kill some soldiers. The longer this war goes on, the more Ana Leonart will demand a higher military budget. This is precisely what we want and need." Sofia stood up, signifying she was done with the meeting. "Good job, Lord Regent" she said. Kassmeyer was struck by those words, it was not a greeting. She had just made him a lord. With that, she turned and left the room, sabre rattling quietly against her leg.

Borders of Bohi-Molenstoni Waters,
RIN Augustus Everen I

Striking the capital of the Bohin was not a bad idea, just a risky one. Rear Admiral Schmidt sat with Captain Morgan Grimelle, the Christina Everen I's in the officer's mess hall with a few other commanders. Grimelle had taken a mild tea, while Schmidt opted for a coffee. Hell, Lieutenant Commander Erwin Dellen had a goddamn milkshake. The real question was, why wasn't Jeremy Lizbont enjoying a refreshment? He had come to join the fleet, commanding the ship named after his murdered sister. Also interestingly, Robert Kellner, brother to the Belantic Queen's wife was also present.

Kellner was a captain of destroyer, known for his quick response to the tides of battle. Jeremy Lizbont was acting on the Grand Duke''s orders, watch what's going on. Grand Duke Alphonse was growing impatient it seemed. Schmidt looked at the gathered officers and said "I got a message from the Molenstoni, asked us to join them on an attack to the capital. I support this action." The others agreed. Dellen leaned in and asked "Are we sending the whole fleet in?
We'll need to hit these bastards hard." The other officers nodded. Lizbont looked pleased "We'll draw in their navy and rip them a new one." Kellner's hand went up. Schmidt's eye brow raised. "Goddamn it man, are we in the Navy or in a school?" The young man cowered back a little but answered "The Navy, sir."

"So then speak up!"

"Yes sir." Kellner answered. "I believe that sending our entire fleet is not a good idea. Trying to lure their navy to face ours isn't a good idea. Look at what's been happening. They don't hang around to fight, even their warships trade a few blows and then run." Not bad thought the admiral. Schmidt looked pleased "Exactly, sending all our ships would not only let them know we're coming and to not show up but would leave everything else open. Instead, I want the Christina Everen to take seven escorts with her to assist in the attack. As far as I know, we are not landing. Just in case, I want at least eight hundred marines to be ready to land if we think that we can. Captian Grimelle, you will be in charge of this assault. Captian Kellner, your ship shall be one of the Christina Everen's escorts.. Prepare your men, you'll be leaving soon."

Small OOC thing. I made Andre Schmidt an admiral because I realized a captain should not command forty warships. Just pretend he was always one.

[North Rukonia]

Rukonian Destroyer N.R.F Dragonsbane, 3:00 pm,

"Fire!" The captain as a loud roar follows. The sight of K-63 "Cinderblock" missiles fly upwards, and bank twords the Bohin controlled Ukhala peninsula. The peninsula is in full view, as the missiles impact the land.

"We've got to soften up the defense, so our troops can capture it easily!" The loudspeaker becomes static for a split second, as a Bohi mortar shell explodes just next to the destroyer, but it's quickly shaken off. "Turn the guns twords those SAM silos! Fire at will!"

The ship gets slightly shoved back from the recoil of the 2 57mm guns fire. The rounds pierce through the site, rendering it useless. A sound comes on over the radio, and the Admiral Bakalovs voice prevails over the static, "Our troops are landing, let up a little bit, but don't stop firing!"

Landing Craft 76

"Borson, King, fire at those mortar teams!" barks Sargent Roger Marr. Ava hesitates, untill she sees Max Borson aiming up. She puts her rifle over the exit to the craft, and pulls the trigger. The sound of rifle fire rings through the air, as mortar teams drop one by one.

The craft hits the beach, and the 30 man platoon all hop out the side. Mortar fire lands all around them. Ava and Max run bunker to bunker, throwing grenades into them.
BOOM, a mortar lands in front of her, rendering her unconscious.

Fighter J-56

Daemeon never expected a war, he was in here for the college money. In, out, and then pursue his dream of
Hotel Management. But, too late, as he was rushing into his fighter.

He felt powerful when he fired up his jet, as he always did, but the feeling was dulled, due to the fact that this isn't just flying around, there's an enemy to face. His jet flew off the carrier, and instantly, 3 Bohin jets greeted him. tatatatatat, he held down the trigger, tearing apart the one jet diving at him. The two other planes banked left, and got shredded by the guns on the ship.

[The Bohin]

Nelspruit

There was a sweet smell to the air that morning. Almost of cherries or Acai, but much stronger. The front line forces peered over the horizon to see the groves of the Hubbard Date Company. Nelspruit, the prosperous Bauer town had nearly fallen to the encroaching Bohi army. It was quick moving. The grasslands were soft with fresh soil and low, trimmed flowers. The day could not have been more perfect, with a slow breeze brushing over the freshwater reservoir which kept them cool in their heavy and hot armour. It was as if god himself was showing them his favour.

The town’s central fort lit up in a plume of smoke and fire. Malesti and Molenstoni alike shrieked in fear and fled from the Bohi’s onslaught, only to be ripped apart by incoming gunfire. Men, women and children. All were combatants against the true word of the lord and all were the great enemy of the Bohi people since before Jesus hung from his cross. This would be retribution for all those whom had died in previous conflicts. The Rhodeve were not here yet. Only paltry enemies who had not understood war. War in the deserts and grasslands of the Wukund. No doubt the hottest place on Sunalaya.

Why would one group, let alone two, settle into such inhospitable lands would be the guesses of historians. But here they were, tearing through each other like dirt. Tanks firing rapidly at predestined targets in order to inflict maximum casualties on the retreating Molenstonis and their accompanying Western allies. But, it was taking a heavy toll on the Bohi as well. Already twenty brave souls lay dead where they stood. Military priests, ordained in the religious homeland of Divergia itself had given them their final blessings. It would take too long to bury them, but in the burning of this town, their flesh cages would burn away to ash, freeing their immortal souls.

Mortar fire was pushing further back, blocking the path of escape. But like brave soldiers, the westerners and the Malesti retreated further back, outside the edge of the town. A young soldier, no more than fifteen looked behind him. The Bohi war flag had been unfurled on the high tower of the town hall. Great cheers erupted from the men around him. The young soldier could not help but to smile, he lifted his gun towards the sky and let forth his own cry of triumph. And then turned and continued forward, revelling in his sense of victory as his gun rocketed bullets towards a family with a daughter most likely his own age. A family who had strayed from the retreating crowd and would pay for their inaction with their lives.

With the last sound of tank fire echoing across the fields, the date groves burning and their processing factory up in smoke, the area was quiet. The Bohi commanders barked their orders. The young soldiers followed them, even though he was tiring. The sense of triumph was still fresh in his mind as he helped move sandbags towards the front. It would be his dying duty to his country and religion to repel the devil’s children and the devil’s allies from their conquered town of Nelspruit. They would wait and prepare. And their enemies would rain hellfire down on them, and they will stand strong. The young soldier knew it. Knew it with a passion inside that would surely not perish. Victory was slowly being assured. And he, as young as he was, would be destined for greatness.

Ukhala Peninsula

The ship fire which fell down on the peninsula's defenses ripped through steel and stone alike. The battle was happening in the air and on the oceans farther away. Shore defenses were firing rockets and missiles towards the ships and planes. It would still be another fifteen minutes before the onshore torpedoes would be ready to fire at the hulls of the great North Rukonian vessels.

A Bohi jet veered to the right, it's loud engine rippling through the sounds of gunfire and mortar as it passed overhead and turning with blistering speed back towards the action in the skies. A Rukonian plane was hit in its wing. The pilot ejected, now floating down into the water under his white parachute. He would never make it to the ground. When his white parachute, the sign of surrender and illegal to fire upon by international military law was spotted, a sharpshooter was called. With a trained eye, a single shot ripped through his face mask, exploding blood out of the hole and his body going limp. He lightly touched the cold ocean, but it was too late, he was gone. No pilots would be seeing mercy in this conflict, so close to Harrare.

The Weiffa region was too important to not be closely defended. It was a stronghold. The region of mountains and mines. A disproportionate amount of wealth came through from this single region, with a population of only 10% of The Bohin, yet made up 33% of the nation's GDP.

The ground commanders in Ukhala were saddened. Not by the attack. Their General Wikker had promised them battle and glorious victory early on, even though they were stationed so far from the front lines. They were saddened because the great navy of The Bohin was not close enough to them to block the retreat of the North Rukonian forces. Many North Rukonians would live to see another sunrise or sunset. How these commanders hated that they would live to fight another day. But the General had made it clear that they would receive no naval support. Only that on the ground and in the skies.

As promised, a second wing of 24 planes cruised forward in broken formation. As soon as they shot passed the forward defenses of the peninsula and it's high fortress walls, they broke formation and wound their way through the dogfights in the skies, joining their brethren in battle, firing down on the tops of ships when the chance was given.

A loud explosion and rumble rocked the fortress. "Sir!" A lieutenant shouted over the radio and gunfire. "The lower walls have been breached. Expect North Rukonian landing craft!" His voice was hoarse from shouting commands all morning. Even harsher than the language he spoke.

"Are the upper walls in tact?" The ground commander replied in thick Bohi.
"Yes, sir. I already ordered for the gates to be barred and heavily guarded. My men and I will repel the invaders to our last." The field commander heard gunfire over the radio.
"Good work lieutenant. A place in heaven awaits you." He clicked off of that frequency.

The North Rukonians had on opening to begin landing. But it would be a hard fight. One breach in their advantage and 500 war-loving Bohi to defend the lower walls. With death and gunfire raining down on them from the high walls. It would be a tough fight on both ends...