A Nation Divided (IC | TWI ONLY | CLOSED)

[Athara Magarat]

Villeurmont

Old Man Cahun's House

"Mr Cahun! Mr Cahun!"

Loïc woke up. He felt as though someone was shouting outside. He tried to get up from his bed but his body did not.

"Mr Cahun! Mr Cahun!" The shouts came again calling for Loïc's old grandfather.

"Qui c'est?" David Cahun was now awake and shouting.

"Nous sommes avec le Parti. Ouvre la porte s'il te plaît."

Loïc got alert as soon as he heard that they were from the Party. His sleepy body was now active. Old man Cahun got out from his bed and room to open the main door. The grandson on the other wanted to see what the people from the Party looked like. He tip-toed behind his grandfather to the door.

Old man Cahun opened the door. There was a group of six figures outside. Despite the darkness of the night and his age, the old man could spot four men and two women outside. He noticed that all of the four of them were armed with rifles.

"Salutations, Mr Cahun!" All six raised their fists and shook hands with the old man as they entered inside. In the light, the grandfather and grandson saw that the four armed with rifles - the two women and two of the men - had foreign looks and a wolf's head as insignia on their combat dress. One of the outsiders even had that wicked curved knife stuck to his waist.

"Qui es-tu?" asked the old man despite knowing that the visitors were members of the Party or revolutionaries from abroad.

"Nous sommes tous les deux avec le Parti alors que ces quatre camarades sont des révolutionnaires venus d'un pays lointain." One of the men stepped forward. "Monsieur Cahun, vous me connaissez certainement."

"Alban!" the old man exclaimed after seeing the man's face properly in the light. "Bien sûr que je te connais!" The old man then switched to his accented English as his eyes left Alban and gazed at the outsiders. "Young men and women, why have you remembered this old man in this dark of night? Please be seated." The old man gestured for the strangers to be his guests.

"Sorry, Mr Cahun, but we are in a hurry. So it would be better for us to talk while standing." The leader of the armed outsiders spoke. Despite being a foreign revolutionary from who knows where, he seemed to clearly outrank newcomers to the Party such as Alban.

"Please tell what assistance this old man can be of?" Old man Cahun was indeed a little afraid that they might have come armed to forcefully enlist his grandson into their revolutionary army or whatever. Despite his soft-spoken attitude outside, the old man was determined to ensure that his orphaned grandson would join the government after completing his education and once the situation was normal than dying from bullets now.

"Mr Cahun, You might not now this." One of the foreign women spoke now. "Today, we foreign revolutionaries from Kravi Vukovi aided our comrades in the People's Socialist Democratic Party to take control of the fields of the lazy and oppressive Aaron Honigberg's land. We have taken control of the wheat that grows in his farmland. The lazy oppressor did not sweat a single drop for growing the wheat; you and others like you did. Only those who worked to raise that wheat should be allowed to consume that wheat. And not only in Honigbegr's, we have taken control of the lands of all lazy oppressors in Villeurmont and distributed the harvest to the poor farmers who labored. Three sacks of wheat will be your part of the labor you did. We are here to distribute that to you, Mr Cahun."

Before the old man could speak, the leader again shouted. "Comrades, please place these wheat inside." And at once the order was give, the three sacks were carried inside by the six, with two carrying a sack full of wheat.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr Cahun. If you have any trouble, please contact us. We will take our leave now." The leader said and the group once again raised their fists in the air and went their way into the darkness.

Loïc was now speechless and he continued looking at the revolutionaries till they disappeared from his eyes. For the first time in his life, he knew what he wanted to become - a revolutionary that looks after the poor and downtrodden class. He wanted to inspire others just as he had just been inspired.

---

Villeurmont

Comrade Lémery's House

"This is the strategy that Hyolmo Hangma devised, Comrade Lémery," said the man from Kravi Vukovi with a thick Vucarian accent. "We will steal from the rich Germans farmers and distribute it to the poor French and German laborers and families of immigrants. Come tomorrow, the police and even army - as in thugs of Weinreb - will terrorize the innocent hard-working population of Villeurmont. Even the most neutral citizen of this area will then see the Party and its revolutionaries as a force of good and Weinreb and his co as the most despicable demons."

Comrade Lémery simply fixed his glasses as he nodded.

"Hyolma Hangma is smart. Though she has left Charbagnia, she won't be going to New Libang anytime soon. If any of this is discovered, the Divan-i-Magarati of Athara Magarat will blame Hyolma Hangma as a rogue agent who acted on her own and the blame will be placed only on her and Kravi Vukovi. If needed, those bastards in the Divan will even have her executed to prove to the capitalists that Athara Magarat is not supporting any communist revolution." The Athara Magarati man with a wolf's head tattoo on his arm finally broke his silence. "Do not screw this up, Comrade Lémery. If my Hangma is taken down due to this cover being blown, I am taking you down as well - ally or not."

Comrade Lémery nodded his head to indicate that he understood the threat. He then continued discussing more strategy and plans with the Vucarian fellow and his party members the night.

[Thuzbekistan]

Thuzbek Intelligence Command and Control
Narzieu, Frebonne

In one of the many small houses of Narzieu, five men and some of their aides were shuffling into a door under the cover of the early dawn. Unlike many cities, this area of town was usually still asleep about that time. Still, the men arrived and entered the house quickly before the cars were driven off to other parts of the neighborhood to be hidden carefully. Inside, they found an older woman of about fifty.

"Good morning, Rabia," he said in French.

She smiled. "Good morning Nicolas," she said before accepting his kiss to her cheek. "I hope you drove here safely."

"Yes, we all did."

"Good to hear. Ermund is this way," she said softly, showing them to the large dining room, which was probably the largest room in the house.

As they entered, a younger man of about 35 stood. "My friends, it is good to see you again. Please, take a seat."

"It has been too long," Nicolas said gruffly as he sat.

"It has, Nicolas, and much has changed." He leaned back as the other men, representatives of smaller groups, took their seats. "We have less than four or five hours before the 24 hour time period is up. At that point, I wholly expect that the Noronicans will commence the strikes. They have shown no other intention throughout this process, despite their rather interesting delegation at the league."

"Speaking of interesting," the representative of the AnCom Party said slightly louder than meant to be, "We heard your nation's delegate give his support to Noronnica. What do you have to say for this?"

Ermund smiled and gave a dismissing wave. "Asim knows nothing of our operations, Gervais. In all honesty, we despise the league. I assume that our presence there will be short lived. Perhaps a couple of years at most. Regardless, we must keep our attention here, where the action is, and not in the International District where the only action is Vancouvian police forces." He looked around the room. "Is everything in place as we have discussed? Are the fighters ready? And do you have the pamphlets to be placed behind any other groups we may need to participate in?"

Nicolas nodded. "Everything is ready. We need only hear the word and we will move to attack the Armories around Clermont."

"Good. Remember, there will likely be other groups going for the same targets," Ermund cautioned. "In preparation, my teams will be there to attempt to dislodge any counters."

"What if we are wrong and the Noronicans don't attack immediately?," another asked.

"The plan will continue regardless," Ermund said. "Now is the time for action, not later. The country is being torn apart and everyone but you will get a piece if you do not move quickly and decisively."

"We understand, Ermund. Just be sure to have your men ready as well."

"They will be." He then looked around at each of them.

"The people must be involved," Gervais said bluntly. "If the people do not aid us, we cannot attempt to enter cities nor can we hold anything else for long."

"That is why we must focus on taking the country side, acting within a moral code of conduct, and spread the revolution as far as we may reach," Nicolas said.

Erdmund nodded. "Now, as for afterward, Thuzbekistan will support you. We will create a unified government with the will of the people in mind." The five men grew uneasy for a moment, but then silently agreed. Erdmund noted it, then unfurled a map. "Let's go over what we have now."

With that, the men listed out the various forces they currently had. The fighters numbered no more than 1000 hundred between the five, but they hoped for more in the next months. Once they confirmed that all the pieces were in order, they slipped back into their cars and went back to their parties.

Ermund watched as they left as Rabia stood beside him. "We better let the staff know that we might not succeed at all."

She nodded, then walked off to send the message.

[Covonant]

Intelligence Data Centre (IDC)

The IDC was busy keeping tabs on events happening across the region. It seems everywhere conflict was brewing. San Montagna was a temptation to Covonant's interest in his own backyard and Atnaia seemingly growing as a test to Covonant's maintenance as sub-regional peace keeper. Now the Charbagnians were slowly making noise of its own which the IDC fear could get very loud. The agency was good in acquiring sensitive information which explained it's quick coordination of areas in San Montagna leading to a success in Covonant's involvement in the once fascist state. Now the IDC was being tested again.

Director of the IDC Lucius Frith was busy in his office overlooking the final revision of the Prime Minister's Daily Brief. While reading the report, the news on the radio was busy with information on the Charbagnian saga. As he read and listened, a task he greatly improved on over the years working in intelligence, the Senior Director Quintilus Appia for Southern Seas Affairs, a unit of the IDC entered with troubling news.

"Lucius, you won't believe what I just found out" Quintilus expressed as he walked into Lucius's office. Quintilus was a short brown man, that had a slight resemblance to a Khas descendant but was really a mixed bred with Neburisan blood.

"What now Quintilus" Lucius asked as he took his reading glasses off.

"Have you heard, the Charbagnians have seemingly awaken the Noronicans. They're sending a task force as a show of force to have them succumb to league demands. But that's not even the half of it. I have just received reports that the Prime Minister and the Defense Minister would surely appreciate hearing"

Lucius attention was fixated on Quintilus as his eyes widened and his mouth slightly opened as he anticipated troubling news.

"What happened Appia. Relieve me of the suspense"

"You know our team of 'Humanitarian workers' in the country. Well a few have been uncovering some information for us. It seems one of our own has been kept hostage, for a lack of a better word." Quintilus informed

"How sure are you of this information"

"I have no doubts in its accuracy. I know it's not my place to say but I think we have been quiet for too long. I am hoping the powers that be may act." Quintilus expressed as he walked out of lucius's office leaving him to his thoughts.

"Lunora get me the Prime Minister. Tell them it's urgent" he stated to his personal secretary who he called on the agency's phone.

"Yes sir, calling the Palatine Manor immediately" Lunora responded.

[Noronica]

NOS Virtue, 20 nautical miles from Charbagnian Coast, Southern Sea

Captain Maxwell McGonnaught sat silently in the bridge, his eyes darting across the sea and his fingers curled deep into the fabric of his chair. The whole bridge was quiet save from the few vital orders or proclamations that had to be made. Call it an old sailor's superstition, but there was tension in the air and everyone could feel it. The Executive Officer kept dabbing his head with his handkerchief, his eyes watching over those on the bridge as if afeared at what might lie ahead.

They all knew that this constant push for war would garner some form of reaction. There had to be. A nation couldn't stand stock still and ignore blatant threats, especially one as volatile as the Charbagnian Federation. The detections of missiles test every once in a while told Maxwell that, especially the ones detected when he was fast asleep and he had to be woken to oversee preparations for possible defence.

Therefore, the expanse of sea before him seemed just that little more turbulent despite the calmness of the day. Reaching into his pocket, he took out a small keychain that held a small picture of his family and him at a theme park in Harburgh. Smiling as he saw it, he tried to forget the situation he was in, attempting to hear the squeals of his grandchildren through the image, resurfacing the memory of him running around the park with his grandchildren dragging him around each stall and ride.

He almost ignored the first call from the bridge, too enthralled by the memory. The second call got his attention however, as he could hear the fear from the call. His eyes glared at the caller who pointed at their screen. Maxwell moved his gaze to the screen and could see several dots approaching the strike group's position on the virtual map.

"Sir, we have around, uh, ten vessels approaching our location." The voice sounded concerned as if there was to be a retaliation, no one expected it to be a large group.

Maxwell looked out from the bridge and could just make out a large group of black specks on the horizon, setting out before the almost visible Charbagnian coastline. Several Noronnican jets screamed overhead, keeping their distance but making their presence known as they catapulted off the flight-deck of the NOS Tytus. Soon information was quickly given to the members of bridge and Maxwell sat agape as he was told what was approaching.

"We have Charbagnia showing mostly all of their green-water capability. There are four destroyers, seven corvettes, five patrol vessels and one surfaced sub, but we think there might be another submerged. We outmatch their tech, but they outnumber us. NO Tytus is telling us to standby but make preparations for engagement." The aide sat back down and soon the entire bridge turned to Maxwell.

Maxwell began barking out orders, his eyes never leaving the approaching fleet of ships, "We have to stick to orders. I want the ship to be on full alert, if an officer coughs on one of those ships I want to hear about it. Any word from the task force?"

One of the officers spoke albeit in a deflated tone, "They're making their way, but they are being cautious. They can't be too overt lest Noronica would be seen as pre-emptive. The force remains to be a contingency plan until war is declared."

[Corindia]

8:30PM, Corindi Task Force Three, the Southern Sea

---

Admiral Mattin Azarola sighed. Turning to his bridge crew, he steeled himself for the announcement he had to make.

"The Charbs have ignored the deadline. As you know, this means our mission will, in all likelihood, change from one of intimidation to one of active combat. We know the state of the Charbagnian Navy, we know their strengths, weaknesses, tendencies, this is a fight we will be able to win, handily. Additionally, we won't be alone. The Noronnican Navy is already in the area, and are currently staring down the bulk of the Charbs. You'll be pleased to know this includes at least one of the subs. They got there first, so we're not going to charge in and make a mess, all actions will be coordinated with friendly ships in the area. Once again, this is what we prepared for. If, but most likely, when, you start earning your combat pay, I have the utmost confidence in you and our allies, and I expect the engagement to be short. Viva Corindia."

He curtly turned around, and immediately began composing a message to the Noronnican fleet.

Captain Maxwell McGonnaught:

Corindi Navy Task Force Three, composed of CNS Barbet (LC1), CNS Cotorra (LC2), CNS Marlin (CG1), CNS Sailfish (CG3), as well as 4 attached destroyers, 5 attached frigates, 4 attached corvettes, and 11 patrol boats, with accompanying vessels, is currently waiting in place 50 kilometers outside of Charbagnian territorial waters. The Corindi Department of State will soon be establishing contact with your government in regards to cooperation in regards to Charbagnia. In the meantime, CNTF3 will be holding position to avoid unintentionally escalating the situation. I hope this missive finds you and your men in good spirits, and I hope to resume the excellent cooperation between nations I personally witnessed in Arván. Viva Noronica.

Admiral Mattin Azarola

Admiral Azarola watched a flight of SF7B Ansar fly over the bridge of the CNS Barbet to begin an air patrol. He clenched his fists. Nobody had to be here, but they just had to kill that Corindi investigator. Now Corindia was coming.

[Vancouvia]

NOS Virtue, 19.8 nautical miles from Charbagnian Coast, Southern Sea

Alpha 8, the ARRF stowaway contingent aboard the Virtue, had not expected to be in the center of the action. Stowaway assignments were, although overtly designed to monitor and gleam skills from allied nations, in reality were supposed to be R&R posts. Alpha 8, fresh off a tour at the I.D., had thought as much; they were wrong. Like so many VSF squads before them, ARRF 8 had found themselves alone, ill-prepared, but resolutely: eager.

"Did we pack our chutes, Charlie?" called Flemming to his second-in-charge Corporal on the destroyer's deck as his squad met in preparation.

"You damn well know!" snapped back Charlie, smiling.

"Aight," replied Flemming nodding. "Ruth, Copper, Smith: I want you to gather our gear from the armory. Macintosh, McGottery, Randolph: see if we can't get a bird. I'll go work on the Captain, but get it all ready now."

After a round of Yes Sergeants, the squad rushed off. Flemming approached the bridge, prepared to almost demand that Captain McGonnaught allow his squad to advance the Vancouvian war machine as many inches as he could. The nice thing about paratrooping into the heart of enemy territory is that that's a lot of inches.

[Thuzbekistan]

The air was tense in Narzieu now. The navies were definitely about to exchange rounds and the populace knew it. All around, tvs were playing the news, televising the same clips of ships sailing out to meet the Noronicans, of analysts trying to predict what would happen next. But, for Ermund, it mattered little. The five groups Thuzbekistan had worked hard to arm, train, and create over the years were ready. Like a spring pulled back, they were begging for the signal to go. He continued reading reports from Thuzbekistan. The diplomats had been informed, the Charbagnian navy was waiting for the word from an unstable government. It was going to be tonight or tomorrow.

Finally, a message popped up on his computer.

"Go-Zeki."

He hurriedly grabbed his radio as Rabia watched and pressed the button.

"C-1 to O-1."

"O-1 Copy."

Ermund took a deep breath. "We have confirmation. Begin the attacks."

---

Outside of Tafort Army Base, Clermont

"Copy. O-1 Out," Captain Fikri said into the radio as he adjusted his rifle. He switched channels then called it:

"Confirmation from C-1. Commence attack."

All across Clermont, the Charbagnian Communist Front began to storm armories and check points, seizing the arms and tools to fight. As gunfire erupted in the distance, the base just a click up the road was jumping to action. The QRF here was well trained, but hopefully not too well equipped. Within minutes, though, the sound of vehicles was rolling towards them. As they rounded the turn from the base, he and his squads readied their weapons. The men with the RPGs stood ready as the headlights came into distance.

The vehicles came closer, now. The first in line was an APC, behind it was a truck of infantry, another APC, and two more trucks followed by a third APC. Fikri held his breath as they began to pass between the squads. Just as the first truck passed him, the first APC hit the mines. With a thunderous noise, the first APC sunk into the crater that had formed beneath it as dirt and assaphault showered down around the men. The truck attempted to go around, but was hit by an RPG and now completely blocked the road. The screams of wounded men from the truck was only drowned out by the successful hit of a second RPG in the tail APC. Now the APC in the middle began to turn its turret and men chaotically jumped from their vehicles trying to find cover. The Thuzbeks then opened up, their light machine guns and rifles tearing through the exposed Charbagnian soldiers. As the final RPG slammed into the side of the APC, Fikri tossed a grenade into the last of the soldiers. They panicked when they saw it, but it was too late and were filled with shrapnel.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the firing stopped. Fikris men stood still for a moment as the firing in the distance continued, then went out and collected the rifles, grabbed the two working trucks and pushed around the wreckage of the Charbagnian QRF. Behind them they left the wounded, crying men, screaming into the night as they died.

[Athara Magarat]

The Divan-i-Magarati

New Libang, Athara Magarat

"I hereby call for the end of the voting process." Divan Hangma, who had recently been reinstated to the position of the Speaker at the Divan, said in her usual soft voice. "Record: Ilsa Hangma in command of the Tri Sitraichean of Noronica, King Ring Hang in command of the Chuli Range of Athara Magarat and Jebe Thulung Hang in command of the Kavju Islands of New Aapelistan, ordered by the general consensus in the Divan and by the decree of Jrm Hangma to deploy the ships they command to the Charbagnian conflict."

Ilsa Hangma smiling and radiant in her long over-flowing Nyssic dress, King Ring Hang in his usual black leather jacket, glasses that made him look ever serious and a growing goatee and finally Jebe Thulung Hang with his ice cold eyes and woolen robes and ushanka, stepped forward and acknowledged the command. It would be quite a while for them to be back in Athara Magarat again.

---

Amber Sea

Hours later, the three Àdnachd-class multirole frigates - the Tri Sitraichean of Noronica, the Chuli Range of Athara Magarat and the Kavju Islands of New Aapelistan were in Amber Sea. The Athara Magarati flotilla would certainly be nothing compared to fleets and armies other nations would be sending. But it was considered necessary to honor the ages old alliance with Noronica - often called the first ally of both the Khas-Kirat Empire and Athara Magarat. And the Anti-Pacifism Revolt participants were to be satisfied (as well as the allies in C6 and JERF of Athara Magarat's "willingness" which had come into question a lot recently) with this involvement even if the government initially had been the other end of the spectrum about the issue with Charbagnia internationally.

ENCRYPTIONCODE: RED

PUBLICKEY: FILE/ OLD-ALLIANCE/

FROM: ILSAHANGMA, COMMANDERTRISITRAICHEANOFNORONICA/ AMBERSEA

TO: CAPTMAXWELLMCGONNAUGHT, COMMANDERNOSVIRTUE/ SOUTHERNSEA

SUBJECT: RENDEZVOUS - CHARBAGNIA

Captain,

I am sending this message to inform you of the Demokratik Kuunsrach of Athara Magarat's intention to honor the ancient alliance between our two nations.

Although I am sorry to inform that only three Àdnachd-class multirole frigates - Tri Sitraichean of Noronica, the Chuli Range of Athara Magarat and the Kavju Islands of New Aapelistan - are being deployed to Charbagnia due to our nation's circumstances, the 555 Athara Magaratis in the three ships including myself are dedicated to follow your objectives and ensure that we return peace and stability to Charbagnia sooner.

I am inclined to inform you that my government may have by now informed the Overlord and your Prime Minister of our purpose. For long, your nation has asked for more involvement from our nation in your cause and we shall do that together. Just like Emay Hang and Queen Magaidh did to bring an era of Golden Age in Noronica.

I hope you can understand that we would send more ships if we could. And I assure you that more Athara Magarati ships will be definitely deployed in future if this war gets further long than we intend. But for now, you can rely on our words that we are ready to fight your war as our own. In the name of our two ancient civilizations and great nations - Forward We Sail!

Ilsa Hangma,
Commanding Officer - Tri Sitraichean of Noronica
And
Member of Divan-i-Magarati

[Dormill and Stiura]

Tunine

Joker 1-3 has been leading the Liberation Army of French Charbs in Clermont and Maibeaux throughout the initial stages of the uprising, an army of 4,000 men and women that have initially dedicated themselves to the fight. The original plan went as smoothly as such plans could go, in Tunine in particular, all but a single police station were taken in the matter of a few days, rebel forces seized what they could and began establishing permanent control over various areas in the city. However, that one annoying police station and City Hall, which is presently under siege, are proving to be more problematic than originally anticipated. Reports from scouts in the outskirts of the city where that final station was hiding have reported that the police have met up with some of the garrison from the nearby army base, arming themselves with army weapons and an IFV with the intent to break through the soft-skinned forces nearby the beltway that serve as the bastion for the rebels and civilians in the city. Eyes were also up in the sky, as there were fears that a new Sarin Gas attack would be launched here.

IVs have been sent back and forth between the ground and the Bureau regarding the situation, what to do, where to go, so on and so forth. These were normal for the operation, communication between the two halves was necessary in order for the entire thing to work like a clock. In addition, news from the northern cells, those in Montamount, Vagueux, and nearby Belnon, totaling 1,674 rebels on total, have also reported strings of success in their operations, and are preparing to seize the airbase at Belnon itself to allow Dormill and Stiura direct access to the island. Then came the SIR, SIR-18.0124 "Special Report on an Attack against Tafort Army Base". This was huge news for the leadership in Tunine since they had not yet planned to attack the Army base at Tafort due to its distance away from Tafort itself and its general location up on a hill making an attack an unnecessary challenge until Republican forces arrived. The SIR read as follows: "We determine that unidentified forces have directly attacked the Army base nearby Tafort. We asses with moderate confidence that these forces are not in contact with the Bureau and should be considered hostile rivals to our plans.", he continues to read the report, his look growing more angered as he continued to read the report, "It is suggested that Joker's Deck Squad 3, already deployed in the area, shall proceed to Tafort and get in contact with any local rebel cells and determine the origin and effect of the attack."

After reading the report and writing a response back to the Bureau, Joker 1-3 got on his radio to Squad 3 first, informing them of the situation and their new orders, with an additional order to take 250 rebels from the city and head for Tafort.

"This is 1-3 calling Commander Jean-Baptiste Segal, come in."

"This is Commander Segal, what do you need?"

"I need you to take 1,000 men and start moving towards Cardon. The sooner we can seize that junction the better. Do you understand?"

"Clearly sir, I will head out tonight under darkness. Over and out."

With that, 1-3 leaned back in his chair and breathed a sigh or relief, the stress hasn't fully passed but at least things are speeding up.

[Ter Natiour]

Rectonned

[Thuzbekistan]

Ermund sat silently typing away at his laptop. The attacks had gone well for the most part and he was to join the CCF in only a few hours. His report back to Ashluv, though, painted a gloomy picture for the future of the project. It was certainly a stretch that continued support may ensure a communist victory in the revolutions occurring around them, especially now that the international community was sure to invade. As he finished the report, he took a sip of his coffee and grabbed his bag.

"It's time," Ermund said as he watched Rabia file her own report. She sent it off, then shut the computer and placed it in her bag. With that, the agents vacated the house that had served as their home and base for the last three years. It wouldn't be needed now, anyhow. In a few minutes, they would be on a small boat slipping through the cover of darkness to Clermont.

https://www.nationstates.net/page=dispatch/id=959986

[Athara Magarat]

Southern Sea

Near Bhumhalese waters

Ilsa Hangma gazed at the Chuli Range of Athara Magarat and then at the Kavju Islands of New Aapelistan from the deck. Behind her were two Rottweiler Medium Utility Helicopters, necessary for and ready to deploy Athara Magarati soldiers to Charbagnian soil. She enjoyed the wind blowing in her flowing dress and the gentle sun out in the deck until she got the priority message from the defense ministry.

"Ilsa Hangma on bridge!" A crewman shouted and all officers on the bridge turned to full attention mode. Ilsa Hangma returned the gesture and motioned the officers to be at ease.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have new orders. Prepare the Thunderbolt. Communications, relay that order to the Chuli Range of Athara Magarat and the Kavju Islands of New Aapelistan. We are to fire a warning shot each on Charbagnian cities."

Thunderbolt-I was an inertial guidance land-attack variant of the Thunderbolt missile series and developed by the collaboration of all C6 nations. It could be launched from a surface ship as well as a submarine with a VLS launched system and a thrust vectoring booster. It had a range of 660 km or around 410 miles. The missile had a subsonic speed but at its final stage, its speed would be turn up to around Mach 2.9.

Being a new missile series, the Thunderbolt had not seen many battles or uses as member nations like Noronica preferred their own Axe missile. The conflict in Charbagnia provided the Athara Magarati government, and by extension the C6, to test their new weapons.

The three Athara Magarati ships were now full of busy men and women preparing the missiles. A VLS tube opened in each ship. The Tri Sitraichean of Noronica commanded by Ilsa Hangma was the first to fire its Thunderbolt. The crew continued gazing at the missile as it rose into the air and headed towards its target in Charbagnia. If the calculated coordinates were correct, the missile would strike somewhere in Vaguex.

The Chuli Range of Athara Magarat under King Ring Hang fired next with the second Thunderbolt targeting Narzieu. And then the Kavju Islands of New Aapelistan under Jebe Thulung Hang fired the third one aimed at someplace called Roagny.

Ilsa Hangma knew the missiles would probably destroy someone's house, take someone's life, break someone's family forever and continue the never ending cycle of revenge. War was indeed hell and she like the still prevalent pacifist citizens in Athara Magarat (despite the great show of force by Anti-Pacifism Movement protesters) wished the conflict would end sooner. But on the other hand, she had her orders and her mind continuously reminded her that she was just following orders. She watched and watched until the smokes were no longer visible to her eyes but the missiles were still in the radars much to her personal dismay.

[Atnaia]

"There's no way we're winning this, you know," Daniel Commons reached across the table and grabbed a blueberry muffin from a tray that sat between him, Taubadel and Josa. "Sorry to say this, but this is a real tits situation we're in. It's not a profitable venture, so to speak."

"You're all being paid your standard rates, when this is all said and done," Josa said. She didn't care for Commons. He was a stereotypical frat boy with twenty years tacked on. Everything about his appearance, his demeanor, his motions, screamed overbearing football coach or crappy suburban dad. His position in Stone Wall-Bastion, one of the hallowed Shareholders, didn't do much to dissuade that image. To be fair to the man, he at least seemed to have worked up to his stock options. He was Regional Manager of Activities, after all.

"It's not about rates," Commons replied. "It's about PR. This is all going up in flames. You know that, sweetheart."

The way he said sweetheart chafed. Josa glanced at Taubadel. The corner of his mouth tickled upwards, maybe a smile, maybe not. He folded his hands on the table before him. A ring he wore on his pinky scraped on the wood.

"Mr. Commons," he said. "We understand exactly the position we are in. I'll level with you, the Charbagnians have really fucked this whole thing up for the lot of us. We asked them for one thing, and they failed at it: cooperate with the League until we can get our feet under us. We know that the Charbagnians are going to lose this one. We're not asking for miracles, and we're not asking for you or your men to take on a PR disaster. What we're asking for is for you to act like white hats. No one is better at handling riots and rebellions than Stone Wall-Bastion, not a single group in the Isles."

Commons grinned, mollified. "That's true."

"So handle them, but make a good show of it," Taubadel said. "Honestly, at this point, we're playing a game of Xanatos speed chess. Every direction we thought this would go has been steered a different way. Our only real goals at this juncture involve damage control. And that's where your men come in."

Commons nodded. "Sure, sure."

"And, ultimately, you answer to the Board," Taubadel prodded. "The Board signed off on this, so you can complain all you like, but..."

"Yeah, yeah," Commons sighed. "I get it, kid. You have us on a leash. I just don't get where it is you're tugging us along to."

Josa glanced at Taubadel again. He met her eyes and shrugged.

"Mr. Commons," she said. "We've decided that there is only one remaining victory Atnaia can hope to pull from this situation. Charbagnia managed to build nuclear weapons. Atnaia has a new nuclear weapons project in need of good people. There is a place where this meets in the middle."

"Is that why you had us tug along SPD and those ANIA spooks?"

"Among other reasons," Taubadel nodded.

Commons popped some of the muffin in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "So we're just here to delay until you can kidnap some scientists?"

"Rescue some scientists, Mr. Commons," Josa said. "Extradite some scientists. That is all."

Commons turned the idea over in his mouth with the chunks of muffin. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. We can get behind that. Are we to engage the League fuckers that are barreling down at us?"

"Not if you can avoid it," Taubadel replied. "Let's try and avoid an international incident..."

"Another international incident," Josa interrupted.

Taubadel nodded. "Another international incident. But you're working with the Charbs here, until it interferes with our goals. Make a good show of it."

Commons nodded. He stood and brushed crumbs off his polo shirt. "Right then. I have some men to go oversee."

[Dormill and Stiura]

Southern Sea
DSN Dormill

Admiral Landon Berger stared into the open waters of the Southern Sea from his bridge on the Dormill, the only carrier the navy had since the Stiura was destroyed during the Civil War. This ship was the pride and joy of the Navy, a testament to the ability of Dormill-Stiuraians to continue to stand for what it believes even while weakened by internal strife. On the deck, AWACS aircraft and a squadron of fighters were preparing to take off and begin a new patrol when a pillar of smoke erupted off the starboard bow.

"What the hell was that?", the Admiral exclaimed.

A few moments later, a second pillar erupted, slightly more to the left of the first.

"I didn't authorize any of my ships to open fire. Where's everybody else?", the Admiral contiued

"Still in formation, sir.", an officer responded

"Those have better be heading towards Charb warships else we'll be in for a fight.", Berger responded, getting on the shipwide intercom before continuing, "Action Stations, Action Stations. This is not a drill.", bringing the ship and subsequently the fleet up to high alert as the third and final pillar reached for the sky.

---

Roagny, Charbagnian Federation
Moments later

The small island hamlet of Roagny had fallen under rebel control in the past day, like everywhere else, the last police station was sized and the influence the federal government had over the entire island was nullified. Granted there were a few loyalists still in hiding across the entire island, mostly in the rural west and north, they would either be rooted out by the rebellion or will simply stop fighting.

A rebel patrol, utilizing a pair of stolen police cruisers, makes its way through the damaged streets of the small city. The fighting was fierce as both local federal army forces and Roagny PD fought well, every inch paved with Charb blood on both sides. The men and women in the cruisers looked on to some of the ruins, corpses could still be seen alongside bullet casings, craters, and rifles. Local commanders gave an announcement to the city for its immediate surrender and followed it up by calling on whatever political figures they could find to begin establishing a government and formalizing a true force under the direction of the Dormill-Stiuraians.

As they progressed through the city, they observed a few looters and rioters, though they had orders to maintain order, the group believed that stopping to arrest a few harmless looters would be a waste of time and resources.

A lapse in judgement at times like these rarely go unpunished. As the lead cruiser continues on, a Thunderbolt missile screams through the air above them and strikes a nearby building, tearing open the foundations of the building and hurling the cruisers and everybody in the blast radius around like Styrofoam. One of the men in the following cruiser miraculously survived both the explosion and being hurled around in the car, crawling out to see the carnage before him before collapsing and dying himself.

The secret barn house that was used as the primary safe house of the Bureau in the island was nestled a fair distance from the city itself, overlooking it from a small hill. The sound of the explosion drew everybody out, all of them shocked at the attack. The Joker's Deck operatives there were additionally dumbfounded by this attack, as they had informed the Bureau the day earlier about the successful takeover, which should have been relayed to the navy that this was not a place to attack. IVs were immediately sent back to Chery to figure out what had happened and why. In the meantime, it would become clear that nobody would be safe until Federal Marines landed and began their operations.

[Vancouvia]

Alpha 8, VSF, 10,000 meters above Alburg, Charbagnia, 00:30

The members of Alpha 8 looked above them at the Noronnican AWAC, now hightailing it out of enemy airspace as they, its former cargo, fell towards the earth. Separated at length in the sky, the 12-men team worked desperately to use the few precious seconds they had to attempt to converge on each other. Angling their bodies like they had been taught, most of the members were able to get within at least visual distance before they deployed their chutes, felt the jolt of the air catch in the nylon, and began their remaining descent down. In the distance, maybe some 10km away, was Helmwerder, the capital, its lights illuminating the night air and eerily reminding them that they were about to be alone in a country of a million enemies.

Alpha 8 crashed into their target, a wide farm field, seemingly devoid of life.

"Estatus? Estatus?" rang out Sergeant Flemming over their short range radio system, his Vancouvianized Spanish sloppily filling the ears of the rest of his squad.

Each member of the squad had a number, and, like clockwork, they began to issue theirs over the radio in turn. "Uno aqui." "Dos aqui." "Tres aqui."

Flemming had never much cared for Spanish, nor being forced by command since 2010 to use it over all radio channels when in a foreign warzone. He thought it was another example of headquarters thinktanking. Even if someone was listening, was speaking in another common language really a beneficial additional level of security?

Once the other 11 had sounded off, Flemming pulled out a chart from his backpack, turned on his red flashlight and his GPS, and called off his position on the radio. "Diez minutos."

Within ten minutes, most of the squad had joined him, and within fifteen, all had arrived.

"Glad you all could make it," whispered Flemming, crouched in the cold winter dirt.

"Wouldn't miss it for anything," smiled McGottery, scraping some mud off her boot. Flemming couldn't make out her smile in the moonlight, but knew it had to be there.

"Right, well, first things first: I spotted a farmhouse a few hundred meters to the north. Anyone else see it?" A handful of them nodded. "That's where we plant our very small Vancouvian flag."

"Aye, and when we do we kick some Helmwerder ass?" asked Charlie.

"Not on the agenda as of now. We are to scout, reconnoiter, and generally all around survey until backup arrives in two days."

"But after that we get dibs on the inevitable mission to assassinate the President, right?" cocked back Charlie.

"Do you even know what the man looks like?" played along Flemming.

"Naw, but he probably old and white."

Flemming laughed. "I'll be sure to put you in for a commendation for enemy intelligence retention once we get back." Flemming stood up and grabbed his rifle. "Now squad, we head north, arrowhead formation, large spread. Aye?"

"Aye," called the rest of them, as they headed off into the night.

[Noronica]

Westinseln Coast, Outside Amstatt, Charbagnian Federation

"Alright people, I need everyone to be in top form tonight. The LZ needs to be as clear as possible so we can land the package. If there's any word from the other package that dropped from NOS Tytus, we need to be ready to move. We are the only Noronnicans on the island that haven't been purged, so let's keep this op from being damaged." FIS Group leader Huxbridge said, his voice commanding and loud, yet his body was running on fumes.

The group had spent many days preparing for this operation and they were all now jacked up on caffeine, sugar and other ways of staying awake that the Foreign Intelligence Service wasn't as proud of. An invasion force had landed in allied bases in Ainslie and were making their way to the Charbagnian Federation in a staggered manner so as to not provide the enemy with a large target. This meant that the paradrops were first, and they needed guidance from boots on the ground.

The group was to guide around 250 paratroopers from the 79th Airborne division onto a relatively small landing zone that was lucky enough to not have enough anti-air coverage to severely damage the operation. However, that still meant getting 250 troops onto the ground without retaliation. They didn't need protection as the Charbagnians would have found out soon enough, they just needed time.

Peeling back his black sleeve, Huxbridge checked his watch, watching the hand make its final move to eleven o'clock. Nodding, he began barking orders, "Alright! The LZ is prepped, make sure to set a perimeter around it while the main unit works on getting the Paras on the ground safely. We are cleared to engage in defensive combat, but our objective here is not to be seen, so only engage if utterly necessary."

The group made their way out into the dark night from their small abandoned house, the rain pattering the ground lightly. Visibility was alright, but no one could ask for perfect weather conditions in a conflict. The grass was slightly sodden, but nothing too bad.

Huxbridge had his laptop out and watched as the target grew ever closer to Westinseln, his eyes constantly checking the sky to check whether he could see the plane.

---

NOS Virtue, 20 nautical miles from Charbagnian Coast, Southern Sea

Maxwell was red in the face with embarrassment as he held the phone lightly on his ear, "I apologise Ma'am, but you understand, there must have been a misunderstanding-"

The voice that replied wasn't best-pleased, "Captain McGonnaught, may I remind you that you are not the commanding officer of this strike group. A destroyer is not an aircraft carrier last time I checked my naval manual, so you'd be damn-well get back to this Ilsa Hangma and get her to speak for me, I won't have you as my commander."

Before Maxwell could reply, the line was cut off and he let out a sigh of both frustration and relief. He wasn't annoyed at the Athara Magaratis as it wasn't their fault, but the reaction of Commodore Helena Campbell was not something he wished to hear again. His response had already been sent several days ago, this was just a follow-up call/rant to make sure he had done that.

Sighing, he heard a klaxon on the bridge and dropped the phone to the ground, "What the hell?"

The XO turned to him, "It's the Athara Magaratis, they have initiated naval air strikes on mainland Charbagnia and we're being ordered to engage the Charbagnian flotilla if it retaliates. The klaxon was automatic due to the fly-by. The crew are preparing for confrontation and we are being informed of more Noronnican ships making their way here, including amphibs."

Maxwell frowned, "Amphibs?"

"For the invasion sir. Paradrops our already commencing after the Vancouvian drop and there is to be a major naval assault on the islands of the State of Westinseln."

---

Charbagnian Flotilla, Southern Sea

"Sir, we are being cleared to engage." The Commanding officer stood to attention as he imparted this news, evaluating the reaction of the Captain.

Captain Deiten rubbed his chin, watching as the assembled fleet before him stood in silence. He had watched the missiles fly by and knew that there was no way that command would not respond. As Captain, he needed to make his decision quickly, knowing that he would be entering into war for the first time in decades, for both him and the Federation.

Sighing, Deiten nodded to the XO, "We will stand our ground here. Smaller vessels are to be targetted first so as to cut the fleet's defensive capabilities."

On the orders of the bridge, the magazine was loaded with missiles and VLS tubes unleashed their own missiles.

[Corindia]

Corindi Task Force Three, the Southern Sea

---

On the bridge of the CNS Barbet, Admiral Azarola read the reports in front of him as he sipped on a glass of water. The Athara Magarati fleet had initiated a bombardment of Charbagnia, so far to no response. And until there was a response, he wasn't clear to engage Charbagnian anti-air, naval, and other military assets. He stood up and turned to his bridge crew.

"At this point, a fight is inevitable. The Charbagnians are waiting to strike, as are most friendly forces in the area, but it is only a matter of time until this powder-keg gets ignited. As such, at this time I have no updates to your orders. Maintain readiness to strike the Charbagnian fleet, maintain all SFs at high alert, and try to stay awake. In preparation for the conflict, three divisions have left port, and will reach us in twelve hours. The CAF is also ready to strike from the home islands. If our invasion force arrives and we're still staring them down, our orders may change, and we may be striking first, but until that happens, we stay put and use this time to better plan our strikes on the Presidential Palace and other targets that we haven't been able to pinpoint as cleanly as we'd like. Keep up the good work."

He turned back and sat down. He hadn't slept for more than two hours in over two days, and the fatigue was starting to wear on him, as well as the crew. There was no chance for peace, things had moved too far, and the wait for the inevitable battle was breaking him down.

[Covonant]

Foreign Affairs Ministry, Coventry

Foreign Minister Lydia Abbasca was busy reviewing the diplomatic report on Charbagnia. Her eyes moved aggressively as she scanned the three page reports.

Forces from numerous states in the region have already mobilized their naval forces towards Charbagnia. We forsee a conflict of great magnitude to occur momentarily. Diplomacy on the part of the League had failed with the Covonantian held hostage still in their current position.[/i]

The Minister's heart raced a bit more has she read and found the report depressing. In her mind she knew drastic measures would be taken especially with a Covonantian citizen held in the mix. It was not so more the news of Charbagnia wanting to acquire nuclear weapons but news of Covonant being challenged was what would determine the next stage of events.

She quickly packed up the reports in a briefcase and rang her secretary to have the car brought to the front entrance of the Foreign Ministry. She had to have the Prime Minister's view on the matter immediately.

45 minutes later, Prime Minister Office - Palatine Manor

The Foreign Minister had quickly arrived at the Prime Minister's Office as she knew he normally held meetings with the Defense community at this time. A perfect opportunity she thought to inform the Leader of the country of disturbing developments.

"This way ma'am" Expressed the Prime Minister's secretary

Thump thump

"Excuse Gentlemen, Prime Minister, the Foreign Minister" Announced the Secretary

"Ohh Lydia, your presence is unnexpected. Here to update on our wonderful campaign in San Montagna I assume. I hope to meet representative of the C6 shortly to hear of our developments over there." Gais expressed

"Actually no Crassus, I bring new information, one that I am sure the Consul would need update. It seems a conflict is brewing in the Southern Seas. The League failed to reach an agreement with the Charbagnians who were attempting to develop nuclear weapons which I assure you would have posed grave dangers to Covonant's interest in the east. Thankfully our trusted allies, the Noronicans has led the charge to ensure that does not occur, but there is and problem. The Noronicans have somewhat stalled an attack I assume trying to play diplomacy one last time while they show force." The Foreign Minister informed

"Well that's good Lydia, the Noronicans have it all under control then." Gais interrupted. "I can't see what's depressing about that " he motioned.

"There is more Crassus. The IDC has sent me a report which I assumed they would have sent you that a Covonantian employed as a league investigator is being held hostage by the Charbagnian government. I am not sure If they are aware the citizen they have hostage is Covonantian but that incident changes our approach to this whole crisis" informed Minister Abbasca

A grave silence fell upon the room as the military generals who had convened to discuss a nuclear Atnaia were shocked with the information just presented.

"Just one day I would like to hear of a regional issue that does not concern us. We just finished a war in the Mesder and a country tempts to drag us in another in the east. Lydia, I have been Prime Minister less than a year and if I drag this country into another war that I assure you will be expensive will not go well with the Consul or the citizens. Can't we just ignore this one. Besides we didn't send the fool there." Prime Minister Gais expressed.

"I know it's not my place but may I interject here" Asked Chief of the Defense Staff General Machelli

"Of course General. Your input is needed"

"It would be a grave mistake for the Covonantian government to have knowledge that their own citizen is held in danger on foreign soil and makes no attempt to rescue them. In fact sir it almost borders on improper for you to ignore it. The people of Covonant expects their government to protect them locally and overseas. Failure to do so may result in an untimely and unwanted backlash." Expressed the General.

Crassus now well in thoughts felt an aching pressure fall on his shoulder. He knew the role of Prime Minister was challenging, but never had he thought that it would be demanding as well. He kept such thoughts however to himself as he believed he should maintain the image of a hands on leader.

" I see General, and what would you propose" Asked Crassus.

"Well Sir, we could use the same tactics used in Charbagnia and Arvan. Produce an ultimatum towards the Charbagnian government demanding the immediate release of the Covonantian citizen, failure to comply would see an immediate mobilization of our Eastern Fleet to personally resume our own. I can state that this route is risky as, the Charbagnians may view it as an invasion. And I am not sure if you are willing to shoot first" The General advised.

Again Gais felt the beat of his heart increasing and his mind going in various directions. He sat for a good two minutes silent with his head turned towards the large window that faced the artificial lake in the foreground.

"I will make the announcement in the Consul demanding yhe release. If in 24 hours our demands are not met, I will make the orders to mobilize troops to blockade major ports in the country. I believe a show of force should be enough to get them to comply. I mean they would never go to war with us for our citizens would they" Asked the Prime Minister

"Unless this citizen has information they would not want anyone gaining knowledge of. But let's hope it doesn't get to that stage Sir. I know fighting wars back to back is never easy to do or easy to justify" Expressed the General.

Prime Minister Gais stood followed by everyone in the room standing with him.

"Gentlemen, Lydia I will take my leave. I have an important meeting with the C6 Secretary General in less than an hour. Keep me up to date with the Charbagnians. They seem to like the attention, I fear we may have to bring them back in line with the status quo, the order that many nations like-minded to us have fought hard to introduce. Good day" Gais expressed as he walked out leaving the individuals in the room to discuss among themselves the route the country could take.

[Vancouvia]

Alpha 8, VSF, Farmland 10 km from Helmwerder

Flemming and his squad had made due with the farmhouse they had found, and fortunately enough, it had been abandoned prior to their arrival. Spending the next two days scouting the surrounding area, they reported back that although they had some neighbors, the countryside seemed to be fairly quiet, and if luck carried with them, they could go unnoticed until the main invasion began.

"So what are we doing here, top?" asked Charlie, his rifle lying across his lap. "Don't see much point in sending in a squad if we're just going to sit on our asses for the main event to show up."

"I hear you," said Flemming as he stood in the farmhouse speaking to his squad. "But good news. HQ says apparently we dropped close enough for a VEO man to make contact with us, lead us into the city and perhaps get us close enough to the action to pull something off."

"VEO? Booooo," replied Charlie, as the rest of the squad joined in in the ceremonial booing of their least favorite partners.

"Let me guess, this guy is masquerading as a pig farmer and we get to ride the pig truck into the city," spoke McGottery.

Flemming smiled. "We've ridden in worse transport. Now, let's be ready for him. Henry, Tulsa, I want you two on watch for the night. Spread out this time and keep an eye out for our agent; no word on when he was supposed to make contact with us here."

"Aye."

Capitol Building, Vesuvius, Vancouvia

General Storm stomped up the steps to the second floor briefing room, his black military boots letting everyone know of his arrival well before he entered the room. He was late, purposefully, letting the Senators and advisors know that he wasn't going to take this lying down. He knew what the meeting was about; he was here just for them to say the words.

"You're heading to Charbagnia. The bulk of the fleet leaves tomorrow."

"The bulk?"

"The Vaenland, two destroyers, a few transports: this is mainly to supplement the existing ARRF force already left and show Vancouvia's willing to play."

Storm interrupted, "It is my understanding there is currently a squad on the ground."

"How did you know that?" questioned a Senator in the back.

"Doesn't matter - is it true?"

The Senators anxiously looked at one another. "Yes."

"Good, now get twenty more down there as soon as possible."

Senator Hawkings, a man known for his love of war, replied. "General, fifty are being dropped in tonight."

That Night, The Skies Above Charbagnia

Two cohorts unceremoniously flopped themselves out of their planes, their chutes flapping in the wind like countryside laundry. It was a bad night to jump. Stormy, fierce winds, little intel, and a vague mission.

Within an hour, some 600 men were scattered across the entirety of the central inland of Charbagnia, some caught in trees, some drowning in swamps, some crashing into towns. The war had started for these men, early, unprompted, without due process or care. This was how Vancouvia played its hand, and this was what General Storm would have to salvage.

[Vancouvia]

Alpha 8, VSF, Farmhouse 10 km from Helmwerder

Lucia Stelling had infiltrated their position with overwhelming abandon. Sergeants Tulsa and Henry had, despite their years of training, not seen the lone VEO agent approach, pass through their lines, nor enter the farmhouse that the rest of their squad was sound asleep in.

Lucia made sure to close the door loud enough for someone in the house to wake up, but not loud enough to start a gun fight. It also helped that she had her hands up. Flemming was the first to wake, his pistol eerily trained on Lucia's head.

"Who are you?"

"VEO, but you can call me Lucia," she quipped, turning around to show she wasn't carrying. "Code sign: the brown bear is wet."

Flemming shook his head, then lowered his gun. "Well, howdy."

The rest of the squad, now all fully awake, stood, gathered in the kitchen, and got down to business.

"We're here," said Lucia, pulling a small foldable map from her pocket, "and my house is here, three kilometers from the city center. My orders are to get you there and give you whatever support I can."

Charlie was the only one not staring at the map. Lucia had deep, brown piercing eyes, an athletic figure, and a silky shimmer of sweat that screamed I just ran ten kilometers through farmland to get here. Charlie was in love.

"Transport?" questioned Flemming, curious about why Lucia had snuck in on foot if the mission was to transport twelve bodies so far.

"We go on foot. Roads are being shut down left and right for the army's use and what isn't is being checkpointed, what with that little airdrop the Cong authorized. I can get you there, but you may want to abandon some of your gear here, unless you plan on moving there very loudly." Lucia looked at their rifles stacked up in their makeshift sleeping quarters, along with their rucksacks scattered around the house. "If you're worried about restocking, I've accumulated a small arsenal at my safehouse."

"Wait, hold on," said Flemming. "What 'little airdrop' "?

"You don't know? Vancouvian airdrop last night. Looks like a major move. Can't believe you haven't been monitoring local radio or TV... it seems someone upstairs decided to scatter a cohort or two across this wide-open nasty country. Most of them got shot up pretty bad from what the news is saying."

"Shit," uttered Charlie. "Why didn't they wait for more backup?"

Flemming laughed. "We're one to talk about that, huh?" He looked around at his squad, then nodded. "Right, so change into civy clothes, pistols and mags only, and we'll stow the rest of it here until we can come back, aye?"

"Aye, Sergeant," came the chorus, as they got ready for their trek.

---

Charbagnia

The 9th and 15th cohorts were in danger of disintegrating. In just 24 hours, entire squads had become either captured or killed, at least a quarter of all soldiers dropped were injured, and another quarter were either hopelessly lost or dozens of kilometers from their targeted landing zones. In short, Congress had ordered the scattering of men, not the deployment of a fighting force, and things were turning from bad to worse for the majority of men and women still alive.

Of the few squads who were able to unite, set up a listening post, and begin reconnoitering, only two were completely unscathed. Pi and Tau 9 had joined together, sensing things had gone to shit, and managed to repel a local police force from Denderberg within the day's time.

In the north, Chi 15 had landed in the hills above Tafort with casualties, but had already begun plans to demolish two local bridges that accessed the local coal mine.

Throughout the country, VSF who had failed to unite with their squads had dug their foxholes in the forests, swamps, or hill country, and tried to get an ounce of sleep for the next day. The war had just begun, but they had already had enough.

[Noronica]

State Palace, Nolon City, Noronica

"They. Did. What." The words were ground out with ferocity. Joshua was seething and it reflected, as the room remained stock still, watching him glare at the commander on the vast screen at the opposite end. The commander seemed to visibly squirm before he repeated himself to the furious Prime Minister whose knuckles grew white on the arms of his chair which had since grown used to the strain.

"Well sir, according to our intelligence and..." the commander stopped and coughed as if to force an immovable lump from his throat, "the media," the entire room groaned, "several Vancouvian Special Forces Cohorts were dispatched into Charbagnian airspace several days ago without any allied support. The positions were erratic as landing zones were missed due to heavy fire. Entire squads of approximately twelve to sixteen men apiece were captured or killed in action. Those that did survive also came under heavy fire and resistance from Charbagnian Army personnel and artillery fire. In short, sir, this was a complete massacre of allied special forces. They are being counted as some of the first to die in this war, and if there was any doubt that this has turned into a hot war-" The commander left it at that, sinking into his chair in fatigue.

Joshua slammed a fist into the desk, taking a sharp inhale of breath before slowly releasing it, looking back up at the room before speaking, "How are we only learning about this now?" He turned to Victoria, head of the Foreign Intelligence Services and his Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Victoria was the one to speak, "The operation was clandestine in nature and therefore the Vancouvians kept this under wraps. The Charbs took a while before doing anything, ensuring to wait until they finished the counter-attack before coming up with any statement. Now, however, press releases and eye-witness statements are beginning to surface and the Charbagnian Press Office is having a field day with its propaganda. Any more hiccups in the upcoming days would be catastrophic for our allies and our international standing."

Joshua's face took a pained grimace, "We need to make headway in this or we are going to be in a bigger mess than we planned for in our contingency arrangements. There's no time to berate the Vancouvian Congress, what we need to do now is to drive on with Operation Swift Resolution." He turned to the Joint Chiefs of Staff, "I need both the Vancouvians and Osters to be notified that our plans to introduce the ARRF into this fully needs to be implemented now. Furthermore, I need the Osters to be told about the situation with Vancouvia and that we are going to need to undergo rescue operations for captured personnel in tandem with the Vancouvians. Let's salvage this situation people."

Joshua spoke to the commander on-screen again, "Commander, how successful were the Paras on Westinseln? I hear there was some aerial resistance."

The commander looked finally content, "Aye sir, yet the operation was utterly successful, we have seized a sizeable eastern chunk of the northern island, the Paratroops are operating to secure the Amstatt Air Base alongside A31 Commando of the 2nd Brigade, Royal Noronnican Marines. Charbagnian air ops over the islands are being culled by our forces and the base should be captured soon."

---

NOS Virtue, near Charbagnian Coast, Southern Sea

The Charbagnian Naval barrage had not been too costly on Noronnican frontline ships. Thankfully the destroyers' systems truly were capable of handling themselves, proving extremely useful in ensuring minimal damage. The swells caused by the ships in the area were huge and everyone could feel the rocks of war, yet at least the ships had maintained course.

After the first onslaught, Matthew and his colleagues began their own counterattack, launching anti-ship missiles in quick succession, taking advantage of the ageing Charbagnian systems.

Matthew turned to his X.O, "Let's get a unified strike on this from our allies, we are sinking the whole fleet today."

[Atnaia]

"Raindrop to Elephant, we have LOS on the package."

"Confirmed, Raindrop. Evac Team Merlon, we're go."

The armored car sped up the street. Distantly, the sound of an air raid siren carried over the rooftops. A light rain pattered on the dark street and pinged off the windowpanes of the mid-tier brownstone. As the car pulled up to the door, it bounced in a pot hole, splashing murky water across the sidewalk. The streetlamps were out, the bombings having damaged power routing in this part of the city, so the only light was the bleary glow from the headlights of the car casting yellow streaks through the drizzle. It was to the benefit of the team, Rich Worthington knew. Not having to cut the power was helpful, although the building was still rigged with a generator for the alarm system and internal electrics.

Watching from an alley on the far side of the street, Rich's fingers brushed the butt of the weapon on his hip. The car stopped and a Charb guard got out of one side and walked around to the rear door.

"Eyes on one," came the crackled comm call over Rich's headset.

"Confirmed," Rich replied.

The guard opened the door to the car and a man stepped out, holding a newspaper over his head to block the rain. He was a late middle-aged man, hair more gray than black, with thick, wire-framed glasses and a thin face. Dr. Henrich von Beirus, one of the Charbagnian government's top nuclear physicists associated with their nuclear weapons program, and an absolutely critical asset for the Atnaian Hegemony. The government of Atnaia was still unsure as to how the Charbs had managed to build their nuclear arsenal under the nose of the entire region, how they'd managed to test and construct their weapons with the obvious obstacles presented by the nature of their size and economy. It was men like Bierus who knew the answers, and who could be leveraged to utilize that information for the betterment of the Hegemony.

"Eyes on package," said Rich. There was a quartet of confirmations.

Since the bombings and riots had started, men associated with the most critical projects of the Charbagnian military were considered an endangered resource and were under heavy guard. Bierus and his ilk, both in the nuclear program and other operations of the government, were being shepherded to and from work in armored cars. Guard teams were assigned to them at all times. The Special Projects Division had watched Bierus for days, calculating everything out. As Bierus was led to the brownstone by the guard, the car pulled away to go park in the lot around back. As it curved around the corner, that was the team's sign to move. They had less than three minutes before the rest of Bierus' guards returned to the brownstone through the rear doors.

"We're hot," Rich said. "Elephant confirms go."

He moved, knowing the rest of his team were already doing their jobs. The door to the brownstone was already closed behind the scientist and his lone guard. Rich swept across the street, up to the door. He reached into a pouch on his hip and took out a small amount of explosive material, which he carefully jammed into the crack of the door near the lock.

"Elephant is clear," he said. "Quisling?"

"Alarm skip in three...two..."

Rich tripped his detonator and there was a loud pop as the explosive triggered and blew out the lock. He threw his shoulder forward, the door swinging open at the barest touch. He spun right towards the living room, where the guard was spinning towards the sound of the door. Rich's hand came up quickly, and he fired two shots from his sidearm square into the center of the man's chest. The guard toppled backwards, tripping over the arm of the couch and landing on his back on the cushions like he was ready to take a nap.

"Elephant, package is panicking. He heard shots."

"Grab him, Jester, before he gets attention," Rich said.

Upstairs, there was the sound of a scuffle. Rich moved to the bottom of the stairs.

"Shitfuck!" Jester said. "Fucker just bit my finger nearly off!"

There was the sound of running feet above. Rich aimed up the stairs. Bierus swung into vision and stopped dead at the sight of the gun. His mouth was bloody.

"Woah there," Rich said. "On your knees or I put a bullet in your leg."

Bierus' hands went over his head and he dropped to his knees. Jester, bloody hand held tight to his black tactical gear, appeared behind him on the landing. He looked down at Rich.

"Look at what he did to my hand," Jester said, lifting his bloody fist. Just as he had said, the index finger was mangled, bit down to the bone.

"We have movement from the car," said Raindrop over comms. "They're on their way!"

Rich looked up at Jester, not moving his gun from Bierus. "Bag him."

Jester reached into a pouch on his chest and pulled out a preprepped quick injector with his good hand. He reached down, placed it against Bierus' neck and pulled the trigger. There was a quick hiss and Bierus tensed. After a couple of seconds, he went slack. Not unconscious, but compliant and docile. Rich ran up the stairs and tugged the man to his feet, then he and Jester ran down with Bierus between them.

Somewhere out of the back of the house, they could hear running feet. They swarmed through the front door, Bierus nearly tripping with every step. There was a growl and a nondescript car pulled around a corner a block down and sped towards them. It stopped with a screech as the sound of the back door banging open sounded inside. Rich and Jester pushed Bierus in and threw themselves in behind. Acorn sat in the drivers seat. He glanced back.

"Baln's balls, Jester, your hand," he said.

"Just fucking move," Rich ordered, and the car sprung away from the curb.

As they reached the end of the block, they could see the guards rushing from the brownstone's front entrance, weapons drawn. The car swung around a corner before any shots could be fired.

"Quisling, Raindrop, we have the package," Rich announced over the comms. "Rendevous at droppoint in ten."

[Corindia]

Pilot's Lounge, CNS Barbet, Corindi Task Force Three

---

Flight Lieutenant Roxana Noelia of SFS-23 had been on standby for over two hours, awaiting the inevitable signal to run towards their waiting SF10 Ansar steeds and begin the Charbagnian campaign. The strikes were all planned, the first wave of strikes from the CNS Cotorra would attempt to disable known Charbagnian radar stations and airfields, the second, the one she would be participating in, was launching only slightly later, and would attempt to destroy nuclear installations and, in her case, the Presidential Palace.

Since being put on standby, Noelia had been in a fugue state, ignoring the other pilots who were casually chatting. They would be flying jets that had not yet been used in anger above enemy skies where they couldn't expect to be rescued if they were downed. The Ansar's stealth and speed should be enough to keep them safe, but... there were always doubts.

Bridge of the CNS Barbet, Corindi Task Force Three

---

Admiral Azarola read the transmission from Carmo, and then, once again, turned towards the bridge crew.

"The time has come. Advise all Strike Force Squadrons and the Surface Combatant group that they are clear to engage pre-determined targets."

The bridge was soon abuzz with reports of successful launches of missiles directed towards the Charbagnian fleet and of jets lifting up from the decks of the CNS Cotorra. Soon enough, the jets on the CNS Barbet would be visibly lifting up as well. The die had been cast.

Pilot's Lounge, CNS Barbet, Corindi Task Force Three

---

As soon as the klaxon blared, all conversation stopped as the pilots sprinted towards the door.

"It's about damn time!" shouted Flight Lieutenant Jimeno Roldán, one of the more eager pilots. He fit the stereotype of a fighter pilot almost to a T, and had been proclaiming his readiness to, in his words "bring the fight to the Charbs", for days. He had never seen combat before.

Flight Lieutenant Noelia simply ran to her fighter, clambered into the waiting, open cockpit, and ran through the abbreviated pre-flight checklist with her technicians on the radio. Within 30 seconds, her Ansar was rising off the deck of the CNS Barbet, and then streaking over the dark sea towards Helmwerder.

[Vancouvia]

International Waters 50 km North of Charbagnia

General Harold Storm always carried with him two things: a cigarette and a knight.

Storm considered the cigarette the most important. Packed in a small silver case he had picked up in some port town that he could no longer remember on a tour he could no longer forget, it was his most prized possession. It was the same brand that he, 35 years ago, was handed by his Sergeant when he was chest deep in some swamp on the coast of North Argus, taking heavy fire and getting shot to hell, fighting in the Oster-Xrevaro war. He didn't smoke then and he didn't smoke now, but the thought behind it was simple: whenever things got rough, he wanted to be that Sergeant who made things a little less terrible. Long ago were the times when he was in the thick of it; hell, he hadn't seen a body bag in a good few years, but there was always the possibility however small, that what he carried with him might make a difference.

The heavy glass knight, he carried in his breast pocket. It protruded quite awkwardly from his chest, clearly visible and clearly painful, it was a reminder for Storm of what warfare was to him: asymmetrical. The knight didn't follow a path, it jumped, it maneuvered, it struck from the side. It gave Storm a momentum to follow, a dance that he could get behind.

~

Storm looked across the deck. He watched intensely as the helicopters played a round of hopscotch - taking off and landing as quickly as possible in a ring to and from each member of the flotilla, the crews of VSF boarding or repelling in a matter of seconds. It wasn't so much a training exercise as it was distraction: getting the men too awake to think about their impending battles.

Storm carried with him a cigarette, a knight, and the 37th, 38th, 39th, 40th, and 41st cohorts. All fresh troops, and altogether one of the largest VSF contingents ever assembled at once, it was clearly and by far, a statement. Storm was going to get his men home, regardless of what it took. What he needed was for them to survive until he could get there.

[Ostehaar]

Porohare, Ostehaar

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Minister of Defense Dulikh had nothing to say in reply - the embarrassment was not his own, and the Prime Minister's response was not so unexpected. A few moments of silence passed as the members of the Defense and Foreign Affairs Cabinet considered what would be a wise thing to say. Prime Minister Dorias, on his part, merely scanned their faces, knowing there was nothing else they could say but still, for some reason, expecting an explanation.

"I'm sorry, but why didn't they..." he buried his head in his palm and sighed through his nose in frustration. "Do we have what we need? I mean, now? Ready?"

"We do, sir," said DFO Chief-of-Staff Vortmer. "We'll be assigning several batches of the Naval Commando to Noronnican command under the ARRF spearhead element, and later down the road an airborne task-force consisting of light infantry, artillery, and logistics. They can be on the ground within a day-or-two, depending on the capacity of the Noronnican vessels around Charbagnia right now."

Minister Dulikh cleared his throat. "I assume we're talking about the Naval Commando because the Airborne Commando aren't available for another operation these days?"

"Yes," Vortmer confirmed, "Unit 51 is still around Arvan, although we've been considering decreasing their deployment there. In any case, they can't be assigned to the Charbagnian mission at the moment. One thing we are thinking about is sending a mix of the Naval Commando and Units 57 and 29."

"Which are?" Minister of Foreign Affairs Brahurer asked.

"Hostile territory forward landing and Special engineering," the Chief-of-Staff replied. "That would make it easier for the entire allied force to operate. Basically we're talking about it with the Noronnicans, making sure if they don't need it or something. Plans might change now with this Vancouvian mess, but plans are currently still as usual."

The Prime Minister hummed in understanding. "And the current plans for deployment?"

"Minimal, given that we're still refining the operational details with the ARRF joint command." Chief-of-Staff Vortmer shuffled through some papers and presented a map with little marking on it. "I don't have it updated on the map yet, but it seems that most of the Vancouvian troops are scattered around the northern areas of the country... although we're not entirely sure and we're waiting for a complete report. So assuming that the first step would be to assist in their extraction or to reinforce them, we're talking about drops all around that part of Charbagnia. That means roughly a batch per district, if we do send in Unit 13 as a whole."

"Objectives?" Minister Dulikh asked.

"Again, given this obvious change in mission, I'm not sure we can talk about something specific. If the Vancouvians decide to take care of this on their own and leave the basic mission as it was prior to their drop, the objectives are raids against army and air bases deep inland, destruction of critical local military infrastructure, and quick attacks against suspected sites of chemical weapons production."

"Alright," Dorias concluded. "So let's try to get them on the ground as soon as possible so we can support the Vancouvians and contain this incident as quickly as possible without causing more damage. Get final Noronnican confirmation that they'll be assuming command of our units and inform our folks at the joint task-force HQ. I think we're done here."