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Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Tue Jun 23, 2009 6:40 pm
by Automagfreek
OOC: This is a continuation of THIS THREAD from the old forums. If you did not take part in this war, then please stay out. Those who took part in the seperate war in Waldenburg are welcome, naturally.

*************

The Gothic campaign inside Mediterranica had all but come to a conclusion, with the last bastion of resistance within the region being Waldenburg. Having already suffered invasion and regime change at the hands of non-Gothic forces, Waldenburg was now squarely in the crosshairs of Vorgothic forces, spearheaded by Yallak and Kregaia. The situation seemed grim, for Freekish analysts estimated that the country was nearing the breaking point and would likely be unable to hold out for long. Warchief Zander and his contingent of Sentinels were but a day or two from Waldenburg's territorial waters and would soon enter the fray, and Vidimir's men were holding up in Greston for a few days before they too would depart for combat.

Lord Dreadfire however was more concerned with reaching a conclusion and consolidating Gothic power within Mediterranica alongside the other Lords than outright razing Waldenburg to the ground. In a meeting with his top defense officials, the fiery Lord laid out his intentions carefully.

The fact of the matter is this, he said as he stood over a large map of the theater that displayed the current locations of all known friendly and enemy forces, This new regime, if they have a single functioning brain cell between the whole lot of them, should be very concerned about their people outright revolting. Let's face it, they've suffered invasion and humiliation, they're in a state of shell shock and panic. The government they once trusted to protect them is gone, and there is a new regime in power that has yet to take any steps to bring security to their country.

Defense Minister Marv Bonesplitter took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke as he interrupted Dreadfire. It's a given that the Waldenburgers are a proud people. Hell, look at their defiance in the face of our invasion of the Med. It's very likely that we're facing a populace that is willing to fight to the death for their country and their way of life, so I'm predicting that resistance is going to be extremely high, and the more we hammer down on them the more determined they will be to resist.

Damien nodded in agreement, for his daily briefings had given him a great insight into his enemy. Not that we couldn't smash them into the ground if we so wanted to. Their military has been decimated by invasion, and we already have forces on the ground. It really would be only a matter of time before they captiulated, but we have too many plans for the new Gothic Mediterranica to waste time on one insignificant speck. If this new Waldenburger government cares about staying in power, they're going to pounce on any peace offer they get and worry about getting their own internal issues worked out. If not, which you say is the case, then we finish them for good and leave no resistance behind. Draft a letter Mr. Hartman, I'll sign it and send it their way tonight. If they refuse, then I want Zander to move in and put an end to this war once and for all.

*********

~From the desk of Lord Damien the Destroyer, Supreme Warlord of the New Gothic Empire of Automagfreek~

To whom it may concern in the new government of Waldenburg,

We have closely monitored the situation in your nation for some time now, and as we speak Gothic forces are knocking at your front door. You have suffered invasion at the hands of those not of our origin, and the government of old is now but a memory. We have not had an opportunity to speak with anyone from this new regime, so your stance on the current war with Vorgoth is yet unclear, but in the interest of peace within Mediterranica we offer Waldenburg but one final olive branch. We shall not hold your new government responsible for the sins of the old provided you do not continue to fight.

There is a new dawn in Mediterranica, and its glorious rise can no longer be stopped. Deep inside your heart you know this to be true, and further resistance will only serve to drive a wedge between your new government and your people, for they must yearn for peace and a sense of normalcy. Your people have shown bravery in the face of adversity, they have shown that they will not go quietly into the night, and as a seasoned warrior I can respect that. There is no shame in accepting this peace offer, for your people have nothing further to prove to anyone.

Should you agree, Waldenburg shall be left to its own devices. The Vorgothic Empire which has now spread to every corner of Mediterranica shall not interfere in the affairs of your country provided you do the same, which the same agreement we have reached with Aschenhyrst... an agreement we inded to honor so long as they do. However if you refuse, then all you shall see is more suffering and destruction. Even though I am no politician, one cannot deny that politically it would be most unwise to subject an already war weary populace to further fighting, so if nothing else I ask you to think about your own political future and choose wisely.

The previous government was offered peace but once and refused, and now it is your turn to decide. I pray you not to make the same mistake as they did, and Vorgoth is prepared for an eventualities. I await your response.


Image

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Tue Jun 23, 2009 6:56 pm
by Waldenburg 2
Pisum Pax Terranum
Encryption: Open




I wrote the Freekish people a letter once, some time ago, about the nature of liberators; and now I feel, at the head of my so recently decapitated government, entitled to speak as one with full authority and experience in this matter. We will never surrender; not in fire, not in flame; in piteous ruin we shall continue in bloody fortitude to slash every wrist and prick every hand that offers us the returned shackles of ‘Empire.’

I was born a slave; to a system of power and hegemony where one could not speak without fear of reprisal or damnation. Today; through my own blood and sweat, I speak to you as a free man.

This continent is divine soil; the birthplace of Ceno; land of martyrs of desert and high prophecy; there are powers you do not understand at work, great and terrible powers, chiefly amongst them the love and patriotism of a truly free people who fight not in fear of reprisal but in fear of loss of what two thousand years of human history and struggle have won them. You’re soldiers shall not befoul this sacred soil.

I can give you no more stirring words or angry sentiments, but as always I point to the desert and remind you what warm winds can do to the temples of ages; had the little pebbles break down the vault, and spill out their inequities.

Signed:
By the Grace of God His Most Gracious Imperial Majesty Wyatt von Waldenburg IV

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Tue Jun 23, 2009 9:03 pm
by The Warmaster
"Soldiers of the Imperium, sons of Typhon, brothers under the Quinquales, we have come to the turning point.

"I don't think I need to remind you what a long damn journey this has been. We left Korronis too long ago, and every time we turn to a target, either they capitulate or new orders come down telling us to go find someone else. You're all impatient, I know, and my deepest sympathies go out to the Legionaries: you have been adrift for much too long, simply passengers, with even less to do than the noble sailors of this great fleet. But you're about to have a chance to make up for it, and I trust you all to do it.

"We're facing Waldenburger filth today. Their government just collapsed, and smart infidels would, in light of this, throw themselves on our mercies and beg for admission to Vorgoth. These have done no such thing. The Emperor has been in contact with Lord Dreadfire, and it seems this heathen king has refused a charitable offer of surrender. We have a saying in the Inner Court: the gods alone grant clemency. These worthless vermin spat on the hand of peace; now we're going to make them bleed for it. You remember the sacrifice when we left: the Destroyer was pleased by our offering, the priests assure me, and smiles on our cause now. Imagine his joy when we send him millions of shrieking infidels to do with as he will.

"We are Kregaians. We do not lose. We do not turn back. We have crushed greater nations than this wasteland, nations who thought themselves greater than us. We will slaughter these heathens, and at first they will fight harder because of it; then we will keep slaughtering them, and they will fear us; then we will keep slaughtering them, and they will beg us for mercy. And we will not listen.

"You are blessed, warriors. You are all ready. You have your orders. Blood and Honor."

* * *


At the conclusion of Lord Rahvin's speech to all personnel, at last within range of their target, the great fleet opened fire. Over the past few days, ever since the armada had left its position near Nuevo Italia, the Intelligence Division had been tirelessly marking and cataloging targets on and near the Waldenburger coast, from airfields to radar installations to suspected SAM batteries. Secondarily, a number of civilian targets, the more populous towns of the region, had been selected for bombardment as well: while not as important as taking out military targets, any Kregaian soldier would agree that razing infidel cities was just plain fun. And so, firing solutions having been calculated and the attack having been simulated over and over again, the armada began its attack. Hundreds of cruise missiles streaked out from their launchers, targeting radar stations, airfields, missile launchers, and anything that could be used to gain or maintain air superiority: priority one was ensuring that Kregaian forces controlled the skies. To this end, over six hundred F/A-104 Balefires were scrambled, rapidly forming up and then rocketing off towards Waldenburger soil, followed by a wing of heavy bombers, intent on blasting apart anything that survived the missile strike and keeping the sky clear of enemy fighters while the ground forces landed. Morever, this force, a fraction of the armada's air power, left more than enough forces in reserve to deal with any unforeseen threats.

The ballistic missile submarines, meanwhile, all of the Valhalla-class, moved to launch depth and unleashed a wave of Pandemonium II missiles on the civilian population centers of the region. Each missile reached speeds of roughly Mach 25 by impact, upon which they detonated 6,600 kg of high explosive, as well as scattering incendiary bomblets on the way down capable of starting immense firestorms under the right conditions. They were one of the Imperium's most favored weapons, and they did their job well. In less than a minute, almost three hundred of these deadly missiles were up and away, and in a matter of a few minutes would be rocketing down into Waldenburger cities, bringing with them a wave of fire and terror. And as these angels of death descended, and the Balefires screamed towards the enemy, and the wave of missiles from the fleet hurtled towards their targets, the troop transports began their inexorable movement towards the Waldenburg coast, and within their cavernous bellies, millions of Legionaries prayed for blood.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Wed Jun 24, 2009 7:28 am
by Waldenburg 2
Granzimmerburg
North Blünderburg


In every way Pondderburg had been deficient in defense Blünderburg had been fortified then over fortified. In poetic terms a wall of iron had been built around the Strein metropolitan area, then spikes had been added, those spikes tipped in acid and electrified while starving war dogs had been placed on twelve-hour patrols and armed with hand grenades. Metaphor and poetry had never been a strong point of the Waldenburger people when compared to ingenious ways to hold a line.

“Eric?” Major Noffel of the Granzimmerburg Port Authority,” read the wireless transmission and threw the paper into a wastebasket. Allumna Island Defense Chain reports missiles launched into this area. They’re preparing intercept,” Noffel turned to the wireless and clicked to a different channel, “Section Two reports skies clear; repeat skies clear. Ready for targeting.”

Both Major Noffel and Captain Eric Strause, his aide, pulled on tin helmets and gently slid under a heavy wooden table; the tarnish on the floor was scraped through constant use. “Eric? Could I press you to a lemon goodie?”

“Why thank you.” Strause munched quietly on the proffered dainty and listened as the whine of the air raid sirens announced the start of an entirely different war.
--

Granzimmerburg was the first city in the Strein Metropolitan area; the most industrialized city on the continent and probably the region, emitted smoke from ancient and unclean towers that blocked the sky. Due to freak happenstance though this, as it turned out, became a great boon to the defense of the city. Not only was most shelling obscured by the dense cloud, but certain compounds in the use at the Rubber Werks released free ions into the air.

When passing through the hundred mile long pall of filth objects would become lightly ionized for a time; this had been discovered entirely by accident and was welcomed after a few unfortunate tests had been overcome. Combined with a world class sensor package, produced in foreign factories of course, the Civil Defense along with AWACS and generalized bombardment could take down more incoming naval ordinance, and certainly in planes that wandering into the defense perimeter; were generally shattered in the first few seconds of combat operations.

It was a most impressive sight to behold the barrage balloons rising above the water front themselves carrying automated flack and rocket batteries tied to the overall mainframe; other’s placed in normal flight plans simple disrupted flow of air traffic along vital lanes.
--

Quadrant IV Defense Command
Streinlikstern


Archbishop Einder had been one of the few lucky ones, the only of his cardium, to survive the purge at the hands of the Leistungi and foreign elements; he had his sneaking suspicions, or rather wild theories as to how and why, but now was certainly not the time to be unpatriotic and he threw himself to the duties of manning his section of the waterfront.

“Two identification rockets sector fourteen, division six.” In a woolen night shirt he command the defense of the largest metropolitan area in the region, yawning as he did so. The system had been repeatedly tried and tested through fire and flame, again and again, through Anagonians, Pictish, Kampferians, Leistungi, Hegemonic, all had sailed through the defenses and passed as out as bodies. Two rockets, bearing a radio isotope charge were put forward and detonated along major attack lanes; like the ionization the targeting system of defense could easily recognize any disruption in that field and the creator would be facing severe problems from a slew of automated batteries.

“Flight Marshall Rø is requesting posting order?” The building itself was sterile white and sealed underground in concrete bunkers, under of all places a take away- Yallakian fish restaurant though the owners had been detained, the original function still served and most of his staff had been halfway through a hadoc when the defenses were triggered.

“Um,” Einder pensively tilted his head back and forth, “not into the city itself. He’ll only get in the way of the shells; order him to make a feint from the east. See if we can’t waste some of their fuel.”

“Your Grace,” and ISS captain materialized at his elbow in the traditional fashion that perturbed even the most plotting of cardinals, “Infrared sensors on the Allumna Islands detect objects moving towards us a formation; fighter bombers of course would be the logical guess.” The Allumna islands, originally a group of low laying sandbars had been built up over the last two centuries into a chain of 22 resort islands, between 11 and 19 miles of the coast line, for the incredibly wealthy. There wasn’t the room to militarize them, beyond a few old cannons and a single runway, which was not a pock-marked crater in the lush underheather. However infrared sensors had been sunk in the earth, as well as placed in the trees, and on random buildings to detect over passing aircraft. Standard electronics picked them up anyway but the difference between infrared posts accurately measured speed. And to some extent bearing.

“Your Grace,” a civil defense ensign had lazily pushed back from his terminal and stretched like a lethargic can, “Is it true the Yallakians turned off a section of the land defenses?” All was silent in the room; they had all heard the rumors from different posts.

Einder preened for a moment before trying honesty, “Yes they did. They failed to take into account we’d notice however, and they were captured by a roving brigade of the Imperial Army. Don’t worry about it.”

“Please sir…”

“If you could see those enemy ships out there, what would you say the greatest threat to our enemy would be?”

“Patriotic duty, and a firm fighting spirit,” the ensign volunteered without pause.

“Well maybe; but I was thinking sea mines. You see we have an entire lake of mines attached to the seabed floor, hardwired and remote, those are usually deployed at times like this to keep the capital safe. However because the damn Yallakians want to play dice, and because they found a nice sheet of paper at the MUIZ, they are now our enemies sea mines; confining what remains of the North Sea Fleet to port, and undoubtedly being missiled to oblivion at this moment. Our greatest offensive power at the moment is in the hands of the enemy.”

“And the aerial defense codes?” The ensign prompted.

“I don’t know…” Einder sighed as he looked at his watch and counted the seconds fly by. Great volleys of anti aircraft fire, and then dedicated fire, could put 17 tons of ordinance into the sky every second in his quadrant alone, if that safety net suddenly had a hole through it… “But, I’m sure the boys in the intelligence department are working on it.”
--

Tyne am Blinder

The picturesque plains village was the pinnacle of country living; green rolling fields, country air, and fluffy white sheep were all in abundance; most of the town had come out to watch the shelling of the black behemoth on the horizon. Mostly they chatted politely about the attacks, and counted the explosions within the city and the air itself. At one point there was a rather troubling explosion in the dockyards, and a cloud of debris that broke through the ever-present smog of the city. They also spotted a fire burning in the usually pleasant palace district and there was some hot speculation on the topic.

They themselves were immolated only a second later as Kreigian cruise missiles struck, then pummeled the city into ash and ruin. Most of the cities, or rather towns, along the northern coast were entirely without defense and easily succumbed to the poundings of the Kreigian strikes. A few dogged fighters were put up to patrol the skies but there was very little they could do to an enemy so distant, and targeting locales known to be entirely without defense.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 9:16 am
by Leistung
BMS Oktober, First Fleet
Off the coast of Waldenburg
200 km from the Kregaian fleet


“Bastards,” Admiral Fuchs muttered, observing the smoke which rose into the sky. Though the brutality of the Goths was well-documented and it was not expected to be any different in this particular war, the specific targeting of civilians always caught the Leistungi military, with its proud tradition of observing a humanitarian code, off-guard. Though the overwhelming feeling was that of anger, Admiral Fuchs also questioned the intelligence of the decision, which was sure to rally the Waldenburger populace against the invaders.

“It’s not as though we’re at war, Admiral,” Junkers said, shrugging. “The Kregaians, and the Goths in general, are still under the impression that we’ll be supporting their advances in an effort to completely eliminate the Waldenburger government.” Fuchs nodded in agreement, though privately he had learned that the Freeks had sent Emperor von Waldenburg a message in which they demonstrated a large degree of misinformation -- the Waldenburger government was intact, and Wyatt von Waldenburg remained on the throne -- it was the church which had been nearly eliminated. Perhaps that bit of misinformation could be used to Waldenburg's advantage at some point in the future.

A single high pitched note played through the bridge, and the communications officer swiveled in his seat to face the admiral, cutting the two men’s conversation off. “Emergency flash message from Bundesmarine Command in Falkenberg, Admiral. Shall I patch it through?”

“Please do so, Lieutenant.” The bridge went deadly silent as the message ran through and printed into the hands of the communications officer. He handed it to the admiral and returned to his seat without a word.

Code: Select all
*FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH*
FM: BNDMC, FKBRG
TO: ADM FUCHS 1ST FLT

ENGAGE OPFOR IN UNRESTR WARFARE [STOP]
EST POS OF KREG FLT AT GRID COORD 61 00 N 19 21 E [STOP]
PROCEED TO INTCEPT AND ENGAGE [FULL STOP]


“Gentlemen, now we’re at war.” There was a momentary pause before the bridge crew made the pre-battle scramble to stations, and the quartermaster made his sprint to the warning console. With a flick of his finger he removed the plastic cover off the general quarters alarm and twisted the dial, the electronic klaxons blaring as he did so. The alarm would sound on every other ship in the battlegroup, though the orders would be given separately through the public announcement system on each vessel.

“Crew of the Oktober, this is the bridge,” the quartermaster said, speaking into the bridge microphone. “Gefechtsstationen, Gefechtsstationen, all hands man your battle stations. This is not a drill, say again, this is not a drill.” The klaxons blared again, and though the other carrier vessels of fleet could barely be seen over the horizon, the sounds of their alarms could be made out as well.

While the brunt of the fleet turned to face the Kregaians, unmasking their launchers and forming interlocking fields of fire with their CIWSs, four flights of heavy bombers based off of airbases in southern Waldenburg which had been captured during the initial Leistungi assault roared towards their objective at low altitude and high speed. To the Kregaians, it would appear as though the bombers were returning home – and that had been broadcast on nearly every radio frequency in the hopes that the enemy fleet would intercept it. Unless the Kregaian intelligence service was comprised of four rabid chimpanzees with a walkie-talkie, Falkenberg believed the ruse would work.

Screening the squadrons of bombers was a standard fighter escort of two hundred planes, which would break off once the bombers had fired their missiles and throw Kregaian air assets off their tail. With any luck the enemy would be so confused by the multi-directional strike coming in many cases from directions confirmed to have no enemy vessels a mere five minutes ago. There were no evasive maneuvers undertaken, and to anyone outside the chain of command, it appeared that the bombers were indeed returning home, the situation in Waldenburg no longer concerning them or their crews.

From the north a further two flights of bombers approached, both carrying the ancient LM.1 Bluebelly cruise missile as their primary armament. These missiles had a much shorter range than the LM.39s which were to be fired from the southern wing, and they would be detectable immediately after launch, as opposed to the LM.39 which did not lock onto a vessel (giving away its position) until it was extremely close, at which point it would make its terminal run, boosting to Mach 3 in the manner of the Klub. The missiles themselves were not equipped with any warheads, instead functioning as decoys to screen the real attack from the south, and from the fleet to the Kregaians’ east. By the time the missiles were detected from the south and east, jammers from the north would engage the enemy fleet, forcing them to assume that the main attack would be coming from that direction.

The three-pronged attack would be made in complete secrecy, and the missiles would be launched so that they would impact simultaneously. The LM.39, the missile fired en masse at the Kregaian fleet, was guided to its target by an AWACS rather than ship-based radar though the middle portion of its flight, and would only engage active radar at sixty kilometers out, leaving the enemy a mere 29 seconds to respond. Such a minuscule amount of time was not enough to power up and fire most missiles, and certainly would catch the Kregaians off-guard, if nothing else. More bombers waited on the tarmac for the order to engage again, along with far more fighters, which would be necessary once the Kregaians realized that Leistung did not intend to support Gothic imperialism and scrambled their own air wings.

In total, the two hundred bombers approaching from southern airfields would fire some twelve hundred LM.39s, while the northern force would fire six hundred decoy missiles. The eastern force, comprised of the combined fleets’ air wings in addition to many several dozen heavy cruisers groups which subsequently broke off from the main fleet along with destroyer and frigate escorts, began firing first as the AWACS above switched on their radar arrays, guiding the first waves of missiles to their targets. The fleet would fire more than six thousand missiles by the time the surprise attack was completed, all aimed at the Kregaian carriers.

Army Group Command, 6th Army Group
400 km from the beaches


“Honestly? They’re planning to come ashore on the beaches alone?” The Field Marshall von Emden’s tone was a mix of both joy and confusion, and his command staff seemed to echo his sentiments.

“It would appear so, sir,” von Emden’s aide reported, glancing at the report which sat on the table in front of him. “The landing craft are headed directly for the beaches rather than for a deep-water port. How they plan to offload heavy equipment is of course beyond me, unless they were planning to bring mulberry harbors all the way from Kregaia, or Kreiga, or Kriegiaia, or wherever the bloody hell these boys popped up from.”

“Nonetheless, ensure that all nearby deep-water ports have their harbors mined by our men,” von Emben responded, heavily stressing the last sentence. “Our allies in Blünderburg report that there may be problems with the Waldenburger defense network.”

“It has already been done, sir,” his aide replied, again turning his attention to the stack of reports in front of him. “Rocket artillery batteries have zeroed in on the beaches themselves, so if the Kregaians do intend to land a thousand men on a strip of sand, we can safely say that five will make it out.”

“Then that’s that,” von Emden sighed. “The fleet has done its part – if the Kregaians make it through, it will be up to us. Send word to our allies in the Holy Empire to begin their phase of the attack.”

---

OOC: Wouldn't bomblets disintegrate at Mach 25?

To that effect, a ballistic missile fired out of an SSBN going Mach 25 and releasing things on its way down looks a helluva lot like an SLBM to anyone who doesn't know otherwise. If you continue using them, you might prompt a nuclear response, since we'd have no way to know that they're conventional missiles.

Just as a final point, can we wait for LS to post before a response is made? The attack is meant to be simultaneous, which is tough on NS :roll: . TG me with any questions!

LM.39 missile

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 8:35 pm
by Yallak
ooc: At work so just a quick one

Task Force Hereticus
Waldenburger Coast


The distant sound of battle could be heard over the wash of ocean waves breaking on the bow of the Virulence and flashes above and along the Waldenburger coastline confirmed that the Kregaians had begun their offensive. Taskforce Hereticus had deployed further down the coastline to be in a better position to support the main assault against Blünderburg by the Imperial Legions and in doing so had happened upon the arrival of the Kregaian fleet.

‘Commander, we have reached the designated waypoint,’ a nearby Lieutenant informed him from behind his console.

As he observed the new offensive against Waldenburg through the bridge viewscreen, Ekraan acknowledged the report with a quick motion of his hand. He stood in silence with an Imperial General for several long moments before finally turning his attention back to his own fleet. ‘Hold here,’ he commanded, ‘Deploy to standard attack pattern. Have all stations standby for action.’

In an instant the bridge was alive with activity as orders were issued and incoming reports were received but each task however small was performed with the utmost efficiency. To the side, the ships communications officer signalled the Commander.

‘Incoming encoded communications, Sir,’ he reported, and then after a few seconds added, ‘it’s from the Emperor.’

‘Spit it out,’ Ekraan growled in annoyance at having to ask.

‘I can’t, Sir. It’s requires authorisation to open.’

Without apology, Ekraan walked over and took over at the communications console. He entered his code into the machine and then began reading. As he scanned the message his face slowly turned from his usually grim expression into something akin to surprise.

‘Hummh,’ was the only sound he made when he reached the end of the message.

‘What did it say?’ the General asked stepping away from the bridge window to join the Fleet Commander.

‘Well, Stormfront has already deployed - But it seems that Grestonian military forces have arrested Vidimir and Azrael though during a diplomatic meeting and now Leistung has engaged the Kregaians.’

The General was astounded when he heard the news. ‘Then it's true.’

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 9:21 pm
by The Warmaster
High Admiral Anor was lazily watching a satellite feed of the bombardment of Waldenburg when an aide quietly walked up to him and cleared his throat. The High Admiral turned and regarded the junior officer curiously as Lord Rahvin, at his other side, went on watching the feed.

"What do you want, Lieutenant?"

The young man replied quietly, as if to avoid being overheard, "Sir, I felt it was best to...the Leistungian fleet has turned around, sir. The majority of their vessels are now facing us."

Of course the Leistungian forces were under satellite observation, as was everything deemed relevant to the war zone. Any infidel forces that close bore watching. But to bother him with inanities such as this..."Lieutenant, as you may know," he barked, "it doesn't matter a bit if they're facing us. What exactly is your point?"

The officer was visibly discouraged now, but still replied, "Admiral, I don't accuse the infidels of anything. It's simply an unexplained movement. Coupled with their strange transmissions earlier, I feel it is my duty to make my concerns known. I don't trust the heathens, and I suspect any actions I can't explain."

Anor nodded, and sent the young man on his way. A man of his rank could hardly confide in a mere lieutenant, so he turned to Rahvin, who had been listening, and quietly expressed his thoughts. "He's right. I don't know what they're up to over there. But whatever it is, it's probably trouble. And that shit about the bombers. Maybe they are heading home, maybe they're not, but they must have known we'd intercept it, and they broadcast it on every channel. They may as well have screamed it in my face."

"Not enough for a pre-emptive strike." There was a hint of a question in Rahvin's reply.

"No, Lord." Anor grunted angrily. "Which means more waiting."

It was not much long afterward that an abrupt cry of "Missiles incoming!" echoed a sudden audible alarm. AEW aircraft had detected a flight of incoming missiles from the north, now shown on the tactical display. Unfortunately, they had been launched from outside the detection range of any of the fleet elements, so there was no way to identify or attack whatever aircraft had launched the missiles. Crisply, High Admiral Anor ordered a detachment of 72 Balefires to fly out there and investigate, hopefully taking out whatever had launched them.

However, it was only a few minutes later before another wave of missiles was detected. But there were two things that were curious about them: for one, unlike the wave before, they did not have a lock on any of the Kregaian vessels; their radars, for all intents and purposes, were off. The second remarkable thing was that, judging by their course, they had almost certainly been launched by the flight of Leistungian bombers that the infidels had so loudly announced were going home. The Kregaians, it was apparent, were under attack...and yet the enemy missiles were still maintaining their stealth even as they passed right over the outer pickets of the fleet.

Admiral Anor was silent for an instant, striving to control the fury that possessed him. They would strike at him while his back was turned, would they? He would send them to the depths of the Nine Hells for this betrayal, and to do so immediately wouldn't have been soon enough. This comes of trusting worthless heathen shits. "Take them out!" he called, allowing none of his rage to show through. It was hardly a crisis, in any case. Further contacts, however, as if to mock his confidence, immediately showed up in the east. Satellite feeds trained on the Leistungi fleet showed their vessels, supported by air resources, opening fire on the Kregaians.

Deftly, as they were well-prepared to do, the Kregaian vessels defended themselves. The carriers, targets of the thousands of incoming missiles, were at the center of the fleet, protected by all the firepower of the armada. Waves of MIMS missiles streaked out from all but the smallest warships, their fragmenting detonations capable of taking out several missiles at once. As the enemy weapons came closer, RAM missiles opened up, further thinning their numbers, until they drew within close range of a vessel, which allowed the Kregaians to use CIWS on them. At sixty kilometers from the carriers, as programmed, the missiles finally lit up their targets with their own radar, making targeting them all the easier. Furthermore, the closer the Leistungian missiles came to the carriers, the closer they came to the most powerful ships of the fleet, the battleships and flagships, no fewer than four of them of the Apophis-class, monstrosities absolutely covered with AA weaponry.

By the time the dust had cleared, however, dozens of missiles had gotten through, and no fewer than fourteen carriers, reduced to twisted wreckage, were sinking beneath the waves; three more had been disabled, and three more had gotten away with light damage.

"Acceptable," High Admiral Anor growled to Rahvin, back on the bridge of the Deathmask. "Let's see how they like us hitting back. Arm all weapons," he roared out over the hubbub of the bridge. "Send the heathen filth to the depths!"

The bombardment of Waldenburg had been a heavy-handed strike, but nonetheless aimed at destroying a few previously pinpointed target. What followed, in response to the Leistungian betrayal, was nothing short of slaughter given form. A further six hundred Balefires were ordered off towards the south, to take out the Leistungian bombers and their escort, which still left several thousand fighters with the Kregaian fleet. The fleet itself, meanwhile, unleashed hell upon the Leistungians. Targeting all elements of their fleet, from missile cruisers to carriers, the Kregaian warships let fly. The Vanquisher AShM, an advanced and highly maneuverable anti-shipping missile which was the foundation of the Kregaian Navy's missile arsenal, made up the bulk of the attack, and in vast numbers: practically every ship in the fleet came equipped with them, and the wave of 14,000 Vanquishers that erupted from the armada's launchers was only a fraction, if a respectable one, of the fleet's capacity. The attack was stiffened, furthermore, by three thousand Lepanto cruise missiles, an expensive and deadly missile capable of Mach 8.5 impact velocity, aimed at the more dangerous vessels in the Leistungian force, such as carriers and missile cruisers. The Kregaians were very intent that not a single Leistungian heathen survive the day.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 10:03 pm
by Oseato
(OOC: I cleared this with Greston, as it is in conjunction with his other thread that I am to be involved in Waldenburg's defense and also talked with Yallak. If there is a problem, please TG and let me know.)

ONS Wilhelm Von Seelow, Oseaton Combined Fleets
Off the Wolf Holdian Coast


Grand Admiral Jake Toland stood on the bridge of the ONS Wilhelm von Seelow, the namesake of her class of carriers, looking out over the Oseaton warships that were lit up with their running lights. Blinking lights were also visible from the hundreds of planes soaring over the fleet, providing a very in depth CAP over the fleet. Slowly, running lights began to turn off, as ordered only moments ago. The only thing keeping the ships from ramming each other was the comprehensive radar plot that was shared across the fleets. Toland took yet another look at the message in front of him.

Code: Select all
MESSAGE START
TO: CMDROCF
FROM: HIGHCMD
SECURITY: LEVEL VICTOR
FLASH OVERRIDE

MOVE TO COORDINATES ATTACHED
RDV WITH SOCF
INITIATE WARPLAN GULF-TAC-WILCO
WEAPONS RELEASE AUTHORIZED

AUTHENTICATION CODE ZULU-NINER-ALPHA-SEVEN
END MESSAGE


The message had been authenticated and the coordinates plotted. While many in the fleet knew little about the WILCO war plan, but Toland understood it fully. Many war plans had been drawn up by the High Command when war had broken out in near by Waldenburg. WILCO was the plan to move south toward Waldenburg and engage Gothic forces. War plan ZULU was the plan for the defense of The Wolf Hold, XAVIER was the defense of Cukarica, and so on. Toland has also received messages from the fleets inbound from their berths in Oseaton Home Islands, but had since declared EMCON across the fleet, effectively ending communication throughout the fleet. Small data bursts sent information between the ships in the fleet, but all other communications had ceased, once they approached the rendezvous point a message would be sent out to the High Command and arriving fleets before EMCON went into effect again as the fleets would head toward Waldenburg.

A squadron of F-21's flew over the fleet, the roar of their engines and glow of their exhaust were the only identifiable traits. No one would surprise the fleet, but with luck the fleet would surprise the Goths.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 10:13 pm
by Waldenburg 2
This is the way things are
I’ve watched mankind from its birth, and nurtured it through infancy
That was the way things were
I brought it light and life and filled it with great love
That was how things should have been
Man grew bitter in his place and made new idols
That was how things had happened
I smote them down and in their place made new men
That was how things had to be
This is What I believe.


Mantra of the Cenophlite Order; Ceno 2:15:


O luce di quest' anima


Sweet magnolia, a most overwhelming scent, clung heavily to the air sticky in dark humidity and stuck to every broad leaf in puckish beads. The blast furnace of June was upon the land and though the desert did rage and strut, while the sky cried with thunder, the water clung to the plants as if in spite of raging nature.

“They need each other,” the rustle of robes swished through the pebble lined path between the brilliant green foliage, “in an entirely parasitic relation; a plant without consent devouring water, and still they cling. I wonder why?”

“Cohesion and tensile friction…” came a flat voice from beside the other speaker.

“No, it is something more. Something more.” The first speaker hummed slightly as he brushed a hand down a flowering lilac brushing the fading petals to the ground, “Outside is a whole different world, or furnaces, factories, barracks, shipyards, cathedrals, firms, and foundations. And…” the Emperor paused and turned his head demurely to his companion, “that other world dies tonight.”

“Shall I prepare the message to the Yallakian forces? Stand down or be destroyed.” The other figure in the garden wore a black traveling cloak; his voice was weak, and he seemed to have some difficulty at standing at some modicum of attention.

“I will speak with them personally and make that appeal; but first I want you to do something, turn it off, the whole city; the factories that have for the last four years demanded the toil of my people to produce the bullets to kill yours. Order a complete black out of the city and do it quickly; I want to see the world change; I will be in shortly to deal with matters.” There was a desultory bow before the figure strode away between flaming orange cusp of peonies. Leaving the Emperor to mull the soot darkened heavens and repeat the words that he had repeated to himself for the last fifty years.

“That which is dark in me I enlighten, that which is dark in me…” With an almost audible crunch, block by block of the Imperial city began to click off, the distant whine of generators spinning down and the coal dust that belched from black smokestacks gave one last indignant cough before sputtering out.

Two billion people were for the first time, through bombing raids, nuclear attacks, invasions and terrorism the wheels of empire finally ground to a halt. It was in a way a sweet vindication for all the blood that had been spilt; tomorrow it would be a very different continent.

“Your Majesty,” an ISS major manifested himself from behind a decorative conifer, “we have a phone ready in your office.”

“I’ll be right there,” on arthritic knees the Emperor lifted himself to his knees and lodged a cane beneath his swaying body. Gravel crunched under patent leather shoes that scuffled a thousand insects back to their burrows, and crunched the already wilting lilac flowers into the soft damp ground.

ISS officers lined his path and bowed slightly as von Waldenburg left the natural ground of the garden and pulled into a airy side passage of his palace, that lead through a pillar lined stairway to his office. Shadowy pale faces followed him all the way, bowing and smiling in equal parts, and all staring after the retreating back with a great measure of anxiety; these men, these few hundred had been the spear of the Emperor on which the Church, and now the greatest power left on the earth was to be lanced.

Two oaken doors were breezed aside to reveal the suddenly standing figures of Generals Smithy, Solf and Gröning, “Good evening gentlemen; I believe some congratulations are in order.” The Emperor walked in stiffly and settled himself regally in his overstuffed chair, his hands pressing against the cold cherry of his desk. “Tonight, promises to be a most… telling reward to our hard work. Gentlemen..” With a deft and practiced hand a dusty bottle was removed from a desk drawer and four shot glasses into which a stingy amount of tooth searing alcohol.

“1933 was a bad year for revolution, and an even worse for scotch,” the glasses were raised and twinkled merrily in the light off a low lamp before being downed, “let’s hope sixty years have changed just a few things.”

“Your Majesty,” Gröning began in an awed tremble, “everyone is in their place. Would you like to call it in?”

“No,” the Emperor drained his glass and sat down, “this has been a singular dream of mine for so many decades, an idle daydream for far too long; I want to hear the words come from other mouths. I want the meaning of this nailed down so that even on my deathbed I never forget what we accomplished. Do the first one Smithy, for the service you did to my father.”

“Yes sire.” General Smithy was the oldest commissioned officer in the army, at six years older than the Emperor, and besides weak eyesight and the unerring ability of the elderly to say whatever was on their minds, he did not show it often. As his hands fell for the phone, he looked very old and small indeed. “Hello? Yes, this is Smithy; Operation Tempest is in full effect, repeat Tempest is in effect. Good hunting gentlemen.” A click, and the Emperor nodded to General von Solf who in turn picked up a slightly different phone.

“ Field Marshall Ordens, put us through to Hegemonic forces; if they could order a squadron to Granzimmerburg. Further orders await them at the horn. Withdraw Army Groups III, IV from the south and move to Lüftburg where additional supplies for an offensive will be awaiting. Hail victory.”

Smithy smiled at Solf. Gröning trembled at the Emperor; and the man himself beamed from ear to ear.
--

4nd Destroyer Flotilla Head Quarters
Klienderbrook,
210 Miles West of Pondderborg


“Surface Admiral,” an ISS Major, who now seemed to be running most of the fleet clicked his heels and presented Grand Admiral Sloan with a crisp; freshly typed sheet of paper wired from what turned out to be the personal line of the Emperor.

Sloan read it carefully, folded it half, held it up to the light, read it again; took a look at the calendar, and then read the letter again. “Really?”

“We requested two copies and confirmation; the orders are correct and authorized.” The Major smiled smugly and took the now wrinkled sheet of paper back.

“I’ll start moving the furniture I guess,,” Sloan’s mustache wriggled indignantly, “the day we start handing over 145 destroyers to our enemies, the Leistungi no less, is… today I guess.” Sloan clapped his hands to open an orthopedic and rather novel phone line he had had installed in his working office, “Prepare the fleet to make for Blünderburg and transfer the flag to Admiral Fuchs in combat of the coast. Vice Admiral Timms, you have the flag.” Sloan personally questioned what the Emperor was doing. It was a well-known fact that his ships, despite his best efforts, were at least twenty years in commission and this was considered one of the most capable arms of the fleet. Perhaps this was the modernization plan he had been pushing for since his late forties.

“A British man stands and takes it,” Sloan muttered as he scraped what he could of his personal possessions together, “the Frenchmen runs away, and the German give its back.” In his mind Sloan nursed the first inklings of suspicions of doubt.
--

Office of Naval Intelligence
Streinlikstern

“Now my children,” Brigadier General Stoffer, requisitioned from the Third Fleet office, pointed at a large chalk board standing on a little podium in the spartan and disguised room of the Intelligence Office. “The naval mines go up, and the Kreigians go down. Simple as that. Those mines take about one minute and twenty seconds to reach the surface, and use no propulsion; if the Kreigians can detect a spark of electricity beneath a thousand feet of water maybe they deserve to live?”

“Sir, well known fact that the Yallakians have the codes to the sea mine defenses.”

“Well, well, well,” Stoffer was a large jovial man; the sort who could never control the volume of their voice even if they chose to, “I have quite the story for you then. Just heard this one today so bear with me but… a few months ago, when the nasty Goth had just shaken of the shackles of enemies, a nice Grestonian man had a word with our ambassador at the MUIZ who warned him of a few things. Chiefly about a certain little country, of a certain red disposition on a certain centralized continent would soon be attempting to attack the MUIZ and seize certain personnel and materials. Well our Emperor,” everyone in the room shot to their feet, “decided not to remove any information but change it; so when the Yallakians came, decided to bombard Blünderburg, they could sit nice and cozy until the bombs started to rise.

The codes given to the Yallakian by Rupert Fry in the MUIZ is the combination to His Majesty’s luggage. Naval ‘code beta’ is the brand of toaster His Majesty uses ; a list of names, suspected agents of Waldenburg operating within Yallak were mid ranking civil servant, diplomats and army officers.” Stoffer decided not to add that a few real ones had been thrown into the mix to confirm those who truly had no idea why they were there.

We turned off our defense to let the Yallakians in, we have a spy agent larger in size and caliber operating in Yallak than before, we have several channels to feed them information through, we feed them the locations of several dumps and parks as ‘military facilities, we have mislead and misinformed at every turn and we will reap what we have sewn. Our defenses stand untouchable, our morale unbroken, our allies steadfastly attacking, and the day has barely started. There is at this very moment a fleet of Leistungi ships engaged with the Kreigians in our defense in the straits around our capital. Let’s loosen their load.” A phone was applied to one ear, “Your Majesty, the button is yours.”

There was a great deal of cheering from all parties as the mines so confidently in Yallakian hands began to rise directly under the Kreigian fleet; magnetic and vast, the minefield rose silently to open the belly of the beast and spill its guts. The Kreigians might, Stoffer reflected, realize what was happening, might decipher the random outgoing string of numbers; but they could only run so far so fast.

EDIT-OOC I guess we can't Leistung... Who knew? I can take command of the destroyers or you can but you know what happens if I do.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Fri Jun 26, 2009 7:26 am
by Yallak
1430 Miles South West of Pondderborg

The sky was overflowing with low cloud cover in the early hours of the morning and provided the perfect cover for the squadrons of Darkfist Fighter-Bombers that had deployed from Lamehken Carriers out to the far South-West of Waldenburg just over a couple of hours ago.

A low beeping tone signaled the pilot to the fact that he had reached the co-ordinates designated to his autopilot and Squadron Leader Halita arose from his semi-slumber state.

‘All wings, report in.’ His voice crackled slightly over the radio as he resumed manual control of his craft. Eleven eager responses confirmed that his squadron was ready to carry out the mission before them - A mission that had been delivered to Halita by the Emperor personally, so he knew that of all that could transpire in the next few minutes, failure was not ever considerable.

‘Break by pairs, weapons free,’ he ordered, and the squadron disintegrated into six pairs and dropped down from the cloud cover in a speeding dive towards the column of ships below. They had no clue as to what the ships were carrying or who they belonged to, only that intelligence had confirmed these vessels to be assisting the enemy’s war efforts and that they needed to be neutralized. Halita needed nothing more.

Streaks of fire and smoke filled the sky as anti-ship missile roared out from beneath the wings of the aircraft towards their targets. Simultaneously, two other convoys further down the coast were also coming under attack in a similar manner.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Sat Jun 27, 2009 7:15 am
by Aschenhyrst
Imperial Palace, Aschton

Field Marshal James Aschenhyrst de Aschenhyrst had been summoned to the palace in the pre-dawn hours. Upon his arrivial the Field Marshal was directed to His Majesty`s war room.
"James. Sorry for the early meeting, dear cousin, but there is important business at hand that you need to brought up to speed on. Follow me please."
James followed the Monarch into the palace war room, to his suprise a full staff of foreign military officials were present. High-ranking officials from the Grestonian, Waldenburger and Yallakan military were present along with the leader of the national para-military. Also in the meeting was Sir Elihu de Armitage, Minister of Foreign Affairs and the delegate to the MU council.
"Take a seat James and I`ll turn this meeting over to Sir Elihu." Minister Armitage adressed the meeting, " Gentlemen, some of you are going to hear these details for the first time. For the past several months, I have been engaged in secret peace negociations with the Grestonian government under the authority of our king. These meetings were the cornerstone for building a alliance with one colletive goal, to end the constant threat of Gholgoth upon this region. For far to long we have warred amongst ourselves, making ourselves appear to be easy prey for aggresive alliances like Gholgoth. For too long children of Mediterranica have had to grow up with one living parent, to witness daily the ammount of flotsam from past wars washing up on our beaches and to live in the constant shadow of fear of outside aggressors. We were on the edge of signing a deal for lasting peace when the invasion came. Not all the pieces had come into place at that time, so a plan was formed. The regional powers agreed to appear as if our past ways were the status quo, in effect we lured them in. We ourselves had to declare neutrality as a ruse for continuing to build this alliance. Our 'war' with Waldenburg was just another ruse, the perfect cover to allow us to move forces into place without molestation. Now the prey has entered the trap and it is time to strike. As we speak Yallakan, Waldenburger, Leistungi and Hegemonic forces are engaged with the Goths offshore from Waldenburg. We too shall enter the fray. Today, the free nations of Mediterranica stand united and ready to strike at the black hearts of the enemy. Together we will purge the region of this menace and secure a better tommorow for our posterity. "
The Field Marshal asked, " Just exactly how are we supposed to aid? I`ve deployed forces to the Chausey Islands campaign who are still a couple of days from reaching the battlefiels near Waldenburg."
The King responded, "James have our naval forces close off the escape routes to the east from Waldenburg. As for direct participation now, I have taken care of that. Commander Kern, please give a report of your forces status."
"Sire, Sinister Rouge Naval Assets have been in place since the Yallakan fleet approached Waldenburg. As you commanded, they have been ordered to engage the enemy as soon as the defensive minefield was deployed. I have commited ten Typhoon-class submarines to assist in the destruction of the Gothic fleet."
" When did you aquire submarines?" The Field Marshal queried.
"James, Kern and his men are accountible only to me, so is their budget."

near Pondderborg
Sub 57 had begun stalking the Gothic armada. Upon finding one crippled warship along the perimeter of the fleet, the order came to aquire targets. "Load the torpedos http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/VA-111_shkval_torpedo, use conventional warheads at his time. Save the nuclear warheads for later . Fire at will." Sub 57 sent four torpedos screaming towards their unsuspecting target. Other units of the 'black' squadron began seeking targets of opportunity. Their orders were clear, assist all nations engaging the Gothic fleet and eliminate as many enemies as possible.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Sat Jun 27, 2009 8:55 pm
by Lord Sumguy
OOC: IC post coming soon, to replace this one. I do apologize for the delay, I was stuck for about 20 hours in an airport in colorado (sleeping on airport floors is uncomfortable) and am currently in Wyoming visiting with family.

EDIT: Sorry for the continued delay, internet is down and I'm posting this from a library, the IC post will be up as soon as I get documents containing most of it (from home) in an e-mail.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Mon Jun 29, 2009 1:00 am
by Kargucagstan
Freshly lathed wood rasped against the joists as the door was pushed groggily pushed open, letting the bedraggled man behind it lurch inside. Kaiaphas Isokrates groaned and stretched his tired limbs before settling his keys in a bowl by the entranceway and closed the door to his new tenement. Briefly he leaned against the wood, appreciating the texture of the newly constructed apartment block. It could only have been the favor of the State that had allowed him to settle in such a nice area, and he couldn’t help himself if he occasionally got a little high and mighty. Pushing off of the door, he limped over to the counter next to his bed, which was leaning against the far wall of the single room, and stripped off his state-issue tshirt, soaked with sweat from his hour-long martial arts class. The dull gray fabric came off with minimal struggle, something Kaiaphas was grateful for as he made his way over to the chair set in front of the built-in television. Between the end of work and the start of class he had purchased a single ration of sliced white bread and one of packaged meat for making a hasty sandwich, but that had been hours ago and he was hungry. For a brief moment he wished that apartments still had kitchens instead of restaurants on the ground floor, but realizing the futility of such thoughts, he gave up.

The chair rustled as he settled into it, scratching himself and grimacing as his sweaty back rubbed against frayed fabric. He would have to hit the communal showers later, he decided. But first, he needed to unwind a bit. Nothing of much interest was on the first channel, so he flicked around a bit. An inordinate number of stations featured scrolling news bars today, he noticed. Upon squinting his eyes, Kaiaphas could make out most of what was going by. Curious, he turned up the volume.

“-artment of Logistics today issued Letters of Attention to approximately a hundred thousand citizens, prompting them to report to recruitment centers for a refresher course on combat tactics and stratagems. Although it is not known whether these men will be dispatched to actual battle, sixty thousand members of the Department of War departed State waters for parts unknown, although further reports have been promised by the Department of State within the hour. In further news-“

Kaiaphas muted the channel. If they were calling up conscripts then he was sure he would receive a letter. After all, a young man in his situation was prime recruiting material. True, he had only the mandatory extra-curricular classes in the way of combat skills, but all students learned rudimentary tactics in school, and the martial way was part of the culture. With a sigh, Kaiaphas admitted that he knew he was doing this to himself. If he was married, maybe had a few kids, they wouldn’t come looking for him so often. I guess I just wasn’t meant to be with someone, he thought. There was just something about women that disagreed with him. He couldn’t place it, but there was definitely something there. Ah well, no point in worrying. He took a drink from the cup of water he had left on the side table last night and closed his eyes. When he opened them again a few hours later, a letter from the Department of Logistics was wedged in his door.

OOC: Really hoping this is the right thread… anyway, I’m committing to this war at last. First wave will consist of about 60k members of my standing army, along with large portions of spec ops, intelligence, etc, since all of them can ship out right away. The larger conscript force will take some months to mobilize, but I should be able to get roughly fifty million men into battle by the time I’m done. Transit time is yet to be decided, as I need to talk to the rest of #g about how far Gholgoth is from the Med, plus I don’t really know where I’m going, so that’s a bit of an issue. Anyway, more official ORBAT will follow in later posts.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Tue Jun 30, 2009 2:11 am
by The PeoplesFreedom
President Norris was a extremely busy man as usual. After all, completely reforming a nation was a lot of work. Even when the people behind him, Norris had a tough time cracking the entrenched politicians. His party had the majority in the Senate and Peoples Assembly of course, but there was enough left of the Nationalists and Conservatives to oppose at least some of his reforms. It didn't help that the economy was, for the moment not doing too well, although it always took time for liberalization to kick into gear.

There was a knock on the door and Don Swanson walked into the office where Norris was busy preparing a speech. Swanson had been one of Norris' earliest supporters, and was as a firm believer as Norris. As foreign secretary, he had done a good job at scaling back TPF's commitments around the world while promoting free trade and enterprise. It was not easy, TPF had become a world power in its time, so scaling back was difficult. Unfortunately, it seemed events would pull it back into the spotlight.

Swanson had a solemn and serious look on his face as he sat down across from the president, it was obviously not a social call, not that the president had time for such trivial things anyway. " Mr President," the foreign secretary began, " we have just received word from our contacts in Lyras that one of their convoys was attacked." Shock crept across Norris' face as the news registered. His face was full of question. " Erm, Don, who is stupid enough to attack a Lyran convoy. Do they want to be destroyed?!" Lyran military prowess was well-revered within TPF, reinforced further by arms contracting and joint exercises.

" Do we know who is was?" Norris continued.
" Sir, we don't know for a definite fact. This is hot off the press, Lyras themselves just received the word. We can assume however."
The president's face turned from surprise and amusement to a deadly seriousness. He spoke carefully, but blunt. " Well I honestly don't know what the Lyrans expected sending an arms convoy into a war zone. I'm sure our allies won't be happy either. Greater Dienstad and the Accords have been real careful around this. We are still in discussion about this, Don. The Lyrans should have not been so proactive. Still, according to your report, they weren't even hailed first. Still, I really wish the Lyrans would be much more respectful of what I am trying to fucking do here. There are alot of people who want us to distance ourselves from the Lyras, Don. They are, after all a collective and don't have a notion of a private sector. This concerns a lot of people. Hell, it concerns me. But as General Glew reminded me last week, our alliance is as sacrosanct as the ones with our Prussian neighbors in Wanderjar."

" It still leaves us in a shitty position."
" Yes it does, Mr. President. I have called our friends in the FA. Alot of them are less than pleased, even traditional allies such as Lamoi and Yanitaria. We can wait to see what the outcome of these talks are."
Norris shook his head. The Lyrans really had put TPF in a bad position, they could hardly afford a war right now, especially when Lyras was under no territorial threat. But an attack on a convoy was an attack, and it wasn't even provoked. This did fall into the defense agreement between the two alliances. Norris rubbed his temples and poured himself some whiskey. He offered it to Swanson.
" This nation can hardly afford a war right now, Don. But we have no choice." Cursing as he did it, he picked up the phone and called the defense secretary. " Hello. Yes, something has come up. Don will fill you in. Move the nation to Alert Status 2, cancel all leaves and order the reserved to full combat readiness. Begin preparing contingency plans and order the navy to prep several surface combat groups for immediate deployment and departure. At the very least we will be forced to send naval forces to escort the convoy. No, we will not have a press-blackout," Norris grinned, some habits died hard, " I am supposed to outlaw that next week. Alright, hourly updates please." Norris hung up the phone and leaned back, Swanson had already scurried out to inform the SECDEF. Norris sniffed. Goddamn the Lyras, they shouldn't have sent the convoy.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Wed Jul 01, 2009 12:32 am
by Lyras
The inbound Darkfist fighter-bombers hadn't even made a pretense of stealth. Which was fortunate, for the convoy, for that is indeed what it was, was not, almost by definition, a combatant force.

But it was Lyran. Thus, again by definition, it was a military operation. And, by virtue of that, even in peacetime, which this was, the convoy was armed, and escorted.

Not inconsiderably. There were over two thousand LY4A1 tanks aboard the convoy, and over 21,000 heavy trucks, anti-aircraft systems, literally millions of small arms...

The escort was, as would be expected, proportional. 22 Hatchet-class frigates formed the backbone of the escort, with the standard assortment of modules installed, along with a single Battleaxe-class cruiser, the Port Finch, serving as convoy flag. Thirty Port Tal-class bulk cargo carriers formed the body of the convoy. Importantly, of the Hatchets, seven vessels were equipped with Keep air-defence radars.

While not putting out full power, the flight of aircraft had been tracked for over 400km. It was peacetime. The convoy was sailing in international waters. They would not, could not, fire first.

But they could fire second.

Almost the exact instance that the Lyran radar screens indicated the missile launch, the convoy responded. Twelve aircraft had dropped 24 missiles. Sixteen ships responded with two hundred LY4031s.

Of those, forty-eight were aimed at the inbound weapons. While the probability-of-intercept for an LY4031 was greater than 0.9, the time available to react was short, and the Darkfists had released at their optimum engagement ranges, with very clear sight pictures.

Twenty of the inbound missiles were intercepted. Four were not.

Two struck one of the Hatchet[/]-class escorts, the [i]Gabriel, wrecking the aft VLS-module, and shattering navigational radar array and primary communications mast, as well as all-but destroying its main engine-room and engineering sections.

A third hit one of the Port Tals, setting it ablaze. While not heavily armoured, it was saved by its immense bulk. It would survive, although it would not make port unaided, and repairs to it to ensure its remaining afloat would delay the convoy's progress by 18 hours.

The fourth missile had gone for the most potent radar emissions, and had hit the nearest of the seven Keep-equipped Hatchets, wrecking the radar, and damaging the steerage. It, too, would be taken in tow, although damage to it was considerably less than that sustained by the Gabriel.

152 missiles had been allocated to the 12 Darkfist fighter-bombers, and they soared skyward, chased by a communication to Breubar, detailing the attack.

Warmarshal Krell was awoken from slumber, just as the Port Finch was beginning to take the Gabriel under tow.

Executive Command would meet within the hour.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Wed Jul 01, 2009 9:25 pm
by Yallak
1430 Miles South West of Pondderborg

Halita had been there the day the Imperial Navy had repulsed the Kraven Corporation’s invasion fleet from the shores of Xirnium, and in a single battle had become an ace several times over. He had fought dozens of sorties in the skies over the Islandic League while the Empire fought a bitter war to drive the Undershi hordes from every last rock of the island states. He had survived all of this with a skill honed over decades of training and conflict sustained by a steadfast dedication to serve and defend his Empire.

So when the radar of his aircraft lit up with the inbound missiles, Halita felt a pang of regret. Not for his fate, because that was practically sealed with over a dozen missiles targeting his plane, but for the simple fact that despite all he had done in his short life, being only in his mid thirties, there was so much more he could have accomplished. But the future was irrelevant now, all that was left was the mission at hand and if this was to be his final act then it would be one worthy of note.

‘For the Emperor!’ the squadron leader bellowed, slamming the throttle as far forward as it would go and kicking in the afterburners. His squadron followed suit.

As they headed straight at the convoy not far in the distance their planes weaved and twisted, throwing off chaff and flares, while their radio-frequency memory countermeasure digitally duplicated the waveforms from the missiles, projecting back copies with false information on position, speed and heading. The sheer quantity of incoming missiles was overwhelming though, and as they closed, firing off as many AGM’s as they could, Halita saw the bright flashes of at least three planes exploding not far behind him. Then his plane was hit and the rear left quarter was blown away. With strength of will alone he kept the craft on course, though it spiraled rapidly on its axis as it went, and swung the plane towards the nearest transport ship. In death his squadron would achieve victory.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Fri Jul 03, 2009 6:51 pm
by The Warmaster
As the Kregaian fighters encroached further into Waldenburger airspace, they were suddenly met with a massive barrage of fire. The area was guarded by massive anti-air guns as well as a network of barrage balloons, which the pilots quickly discovered were packed with AAMs. The sheer volume of the sudden storm of fire took out almost two dozen of the Kregaians before they could react, twisting their Balefires in complicated evasive maneuvers. The bombers, of course, were incapable of such maneuvers, but luckily for them, they were lagging far behind the fighters and thus weren’t in range of the ground-based defenses.

One of the Balefire’s most important weapons is its stealth: locking on to it, either by infrared or radar, is next to impossible. This, its exceptional maneuverability, and the ECM pods mounted under each wing, give it exceptional survivability against missiles. On the other hand, flak cannot be jammed or fooled, and pays no attention to stealth. Evading the storms of ordinance was the only option, and another eight fighters were destroyed as the rest accelerated to maximum speed, screaming out of the kill zone. It appeared to be a retreat; but Kregaians do not retreat.

When the fighters were safely out of the way, the bombers opened up. Each unloaded half their payload of AAMs at the barrage balloons, sending a wave of just under three hundred AIM-135 Hellhound missiles at the large targets. They followed up this barrage with their entire load of AGM-460 Fenrir missiles, making a total of 144 bunker-busters rocketing towards the Waldenburger anti-air batteries on the ground. As if this were not enough, the bombers radioed back to the fleet, requesting immediate and massive fire support...

* * *


High Admiral Anor was a blunt, often bombastic, man. Born a commoner, he had won his position as the Kregaian Imperial Navy’s second-in-command and most decorated officer by talent alone, with little time or patience for the habits and pursuits of the nobility. But watching the flames of Blunderburg and Granzimmerburg, he had to admit they had a point about one thing: war was beautiful. The aristocracy was known for their appreciation of such things, to the point where paeans to war were far more common in Kregaian literature than any other form of poetry. Lord Rahvin himself was a well-known writer of such things.

Speak of the devil.

Rahvin’s approach back to the tactical display shook High Admiral Anor out of his musings, and he berated himself mentally for the slip. All well and good for the Hero of Czardas to marvel at the aesthetics of a burning city; men of the fleet had more mundane concerns, and to lose focus was a luxury he could not afford.

“It’s time, Admiral,” Rahvin said when he reached Anor, smiling. “The generals try very hard to hide their impatience, but they’re not very good at it. Let’s not prolong their discomfort.”

“Next phase, my lord?” Anor asked, wanting to make sure.

“Next phase.”

“Cease fire on all civilian targets,” the High Admiral called out, glancing at Rahvin.

“We have better things to do now than intimidate heathens,” the aristocrat agreed.

“The fleet is to redirect fire to all military targets threatening the landing zone,” Anor continued. “All hardened targets, emplacements, whatever. Anything that could interfere with the troops. Supplement with shell fire. First priority is taking out the anti-air systems in our way. Littoral assault ships and destroyer group elements to advance and cover troopships.” Even before Anor had finished, the ship rumbled slightly as the Deathmask's 32" guns, and those of the other flagships, opened fire, each volley hurling forty-eight massive shells at the Waldenburger anti-flak guns, followed by over a thousand Vanquisher missiles from the fleet.

The captain of the Deathmask, a middle-aged officer by the name of Marcus Viazin, waited a polite interval after the High Admiral had finished his orders, before quietly asking, “Sir, if I may ask…you recall the metal signatures the MAD arrays picked up on the sea floor. Do you…have any orders regarding them?”

“Patience, Captain,” Anor replied, smiling slightly. “There are a thousand things those signatures could be. And if they are mines, which I grant is quite likely, there are more efficient ways of dealing with them than simply blasting apart the sea bed.” Knowing better than to press the point, Captain Viazin simply bowed and politely withdrew.

Patience, indeed. Anor’s smile widened.

Just a little longer.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Sat Jul 04, 2009 8:08 pm
by Lord Sumguy
OOC: please inform me via tg, im, e-mail (sumutherguy@hotmail.com), or irc if there are objections to any portion of this post.

IC:

Off the Coast of Waldenburg:

The small group of Sumguaian warships slowly cut through the ocean as they kept pace with the Leistungi fleet, maintaining a distance of half a kilometer. This relatively tiny force was composed of eight frigates, three destroyers, and a single Towne-class cruiser. They had just minutes before observed and reported to the main fleet a massive missile launch by the Leistungi fleet. Officially at least, this launch was presumed by the Sumguaian admirals to be against some Waldenburger naval force as yet undetected by the Sumguaian armada. It was then with a considerable amount of panic and confusion that the dozen-ship force detected nearly a hundred Kriegan missiles speeding towards them. Their efforts to shoot down the oncoming missiles were valiant, but futile, and after the explosions had ceased all but four of these ships were sinking or had been utterly torn apart.

Aboard the Sumguaian armada’s flagship, the HS Illumination, Admiral William Cole was growing ever more infuriated as he was given news of the Kriegan attack. “How many are left?” He asked through gritted teeth, facing the young officer who had delivered the news.

“Four ships, sir. Three frigates and one destroyer.”

“And is there any idea of why on earth...” Cole began, but fell silent as he noticed an approaching communications officer.

“Urgent message for you, sir.” The Latter said, handing Cole a paper. The Admiral looked at it, frowning:

And ye shall hallow the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout the land unto all the inhabitants thereof.

William Cole smiled the malicious grin of a man who has been wronged, and knows that his revenge will not be long in coming. “So it’s war then.”

The HIDF fleet rumbled into life and turned to face that of the Goths. Wave after wave* of aircraft rose from the decks of it’s carriers, and flew towards the Kriegan fleet. They were soon overtaken by fifteen thousand Leistungi LM.39 missiles, the purpose of which was to destroy the enemy fleet’s carriers and anti-air ships, as well as generally causing as much damage as possible. Aboard his carrier, Admiral Cole watched them disappear over the horizon, laughing to himself.

*OOC: Total: 1100 F-35’s, 1100 modernized B-103 Buccaneers, and 1100 FA-18 Super Hornets. 50 EA-18 Growlers, escorted by a further 200 F-35s. The further actions taken by and (if acceptable) attacks made by these aircraft will be in my next post.

___________________________________________________________

Sumguaia Daily Times:
Truth Shall Out


Sumguaian Ships Attacked by Kriegan Fleet!



Earlier today, in a shocking display of barbarism, gothic warships conducted an unprovoked, unjustified missiles strike upon twelve ships of the Holy Empire, among them the HS Leviticus, which was completely destroyed. This attack comes after the same gothic fleet has been conducting an unrelenting bombardment of a number of Waldenburger civilian centers, slaughtering thousands of the inhabitants thereof. It would seem though, that simply killing Waldenburger citizens was not enough for the Kriegan admirals. Now, without warning, gothic naval forces have murdered what is estimated to be more than four thousand of our own sailors.

“This attack is disgusting.” Stated a member of the Sumguaian Foreign Ministry, who wished to remain anonymous, on the matter. “Tensions have been high with the Vorgothic Empire for months following their ridiculous declaration of a “new era” and public demand of submission, but we never expected them actually attack forces of the Holy Empire.” The Hegemon when asked refused to comment on the situation, but stated that she will be addressing the nation on this situation tomorrow.

At the moment we are unable to gather any further details on this attack, other than that our own naval forces have conducted a counter-attack, and a naval battle is ongoing. Updates will be posted as we receive them on our website: http://www.sumguaiadtimes.com

As of now, the Holy Empire is at war. May the Almighty grant us victory over this terrible foe.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Mon Jul 06, 2009 9:17 pm
by The Silver Sky
Southwest Mediterranica Naval Base, Sky Island, 2200km Southwest of Vetalian Colony of Pillar

Sky Island was the newest territory to be brought under the fold of the Skyian Republic but it was already fortified like one of the oldest. Twelve Naval Bases, each capable of supporting two carrier battle groups and their support vessels, along with twenty-five army bases, housing a division each and sixteen air force bases, each housing a wing of planes, had been constructed. Various surface to air and anti-shipping missile batteries, included the dreaded Khan and Trinity Anti-shipping Missiles were constructed in the time between the end of the old hostilities and the beginning of the new ones. Both the tactical and strategic defenses for the island had been completed but for now the island was only capable of tactical nuclear strikes as the planned nuclear silos had not yet been completed (although there were SSBNs and air launched nuclear weapons in theater, and many of the anti-shipping missiles were nuclear capable).

During the opening shots of the conflict the base had remained quiet, a busy active kind of quiet, but quiet nonetheless. the 1st and 2nd Fleets patrolled the waters around the island while support vessels finished laying out the active, but not yet complete, SOSUS net designed to protect the island from submarine attack. Supply convoys escorted by the 5th fleet helped the island to stockpile enough supplys and weapons to last months, which were stored in underground bunkers and depots. However the continuance of the war had changed that within a few days of the war starting the 1st Fleet was sent to rendezvous with the Kregaians, with a cruise of 30 knots they were now only a day, or 1380km out.

A vast fleet of over seven hundred and fifty ships spread out over the ocean and armed to the teeth was heading towards Waldenburg and the feeble minded weak nations opposing Gholgoth's dominion.

[OOC: Its a short I'm here! post, gave you guys enough range to engage me if you should want/notice i'm there]

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Mon Jul 06, 2009 11:00 pm
by Dephire
(OOC: Expanding from the First Impressions of June into here. Let's dance, shall we?)

Port City Skivala, Briskarn Outer Rim

The entire Imperial Armada began to assemble in Skivala, the largest of Briska's ports, within twelve hours from the declaration of war by Archerus unto Greston and Waldenburg. The thirty super-carriers had left port, already heading towards Greston waters along with four hundred battleships, nine hundred missile cruisers, seven hundred destroyers, and twelve hundred submarines. As the rest of the entire Imperial Armada assembled, the first strike force would be well within range of pummeling Greston's lands. All the while, three hundred and fifty Su-33 fighter jets soared from their airfields in Los Mexico to Vetalia, escorting one hundred B-52 bombers. More will join them later on while the Briskarn forces massed.

Galva, Briska

Archerus looked over battle charts being shown on a large round circular screen in the center of his war room. It appeared as a giant pedestal and was depicting the placement of units in accordance to where the major battles were occurring. If he were to send the entire Imperial Armada to fight the Grestonians, then he would risk having Gholgoth lose the fight with Waldenburg. His only option seemed to be to scramble all of his fighters and bombers to fly towards Sky Island and assist the Silver Sky and Kregaia forces in their efforts against Waldenburg 2. With over forty thousand fighters and bombers at his disposal, he could force Waldenburg forces into an involuntary submission. Looking up to the man standing to his right, Archerus motioned for the man to listen.

"General Skive, I would like to you to scramble all available jets from our large airbase and send them all straight to Sky Island, a possession of TSS in the Med. Make sure they are aware of our arrival, would not want to be rude and impose. Once they have successfully landed, refueled, and are armed, I want you to have them pound the shit out of the Waldenburg forces. After you have annihilated their forces, make turn their sky black with the sheer number of our aircraft! Scramble the air force! Fly into Oblivion! Kill those who oppose the might of Gholgoth and of the Unholy Empire!"

Skive stood erect, placed a fist over his heart, and bowed low while stating, "I will do as you ask, Emperor." He then stood and walked off with due haste through the doorway and up steps to a helicopter that waited for him. He always thought it strange to put a helicopter inside a building, but he never questioned the reasoning. Skive simply boarded the aircraft as it began to start up its engine. A loud screeching sound could be heard as the top of the building directly above the helicopter began to open. Once the helicopter reached sufficient speed, it rose and turned towards the west. General Skive leaned back and doze off as the journey would take a couple of hours.

Belka'Vek, Briska (the area formerly known as Dephire)

Awakening bells, whistles, and sirens went off in the massive airbase called Belka'Vek. Briska had turned the entire landscape that had once been the nation known as Dephire into one of the world's largest air force bases, Belka'Vek. Housed in its massive complex are over forty thousand aircraft, ranging from fighters to bombers and reconnaissance to transport aircraft. Belka'Vek had nearly 85% of the entire Briskarn air force just lying in wait. This was Archerus' hand, and his Black Hawk Squadron (BoraVak) his ace. BoraVak Squadron was comprised of five Su-47s, seven Su-33s, and twelve Su-27s and painted entirely red with a large black hawk painted on the underbelly of each aircraft. At the head of BoraVak Squadron was Ghale, a native of Briska and the best fighter pilot in Briskarn history. As the sirens went off, he woke up and dressed as quickly as he could. Ghale already knew Briska was at war with the Med, so he was not surprised that the day had come where Belka'Vek was called.

"What the hell is going on, Ghale?" One of the other members of BoraVak stated while rushing to brush his teeth.

"It must be time for Briska to finally use this installation! We are going to war boys! Ha!" Ghale yelled out loudly to the room and his cry was met with a roar of cheers.

As soon as everyone finished getting ready, they all rushed out and joined the several other thousand pilots and airmen and formed rows upon rows of formations. In front of them, standing high above the formations, were steps and then a podium. Atop the podium was a microphone. Behind this display was a large helipad of which all the eyes were watching anxiously. From the east came a distant flutter of rotors, a helicopter was approaching. The helicopter came into sight only a few minutes later, circling around the men a few times before landing on the helipad. Several moments passed before a large man walked up the steps to the helicopter and opened the passenger section door. Out stepped General Skive, wearing a black uniform with a red imprint on his collar and an assortment of medals and ribbons on his chest. He placed his cap on and walked down the steps with a strong stride, walking up to the podium.

Skive took a moment to look over the massive number of pilots and airmen, then spoke clearly into the microphone, "Pilots of the Briskarn Imperial Air Force, many hours ago, our Emperor declared war against the nations of Waldenburg 2 and Greston. Just four hours ago, our Imperial Armada set sail for Greston in an attempt to pummel those sons of bitches down into the ground. So guess where that leaves the proud air force of Belka'Vek?" He paused for a few moments as the pilots began to roar with cheers, some men even yelling out 'Waldenburg! Waldenburg!' The general smiled politely and the pilots quietened, "That's right! The Emperor has ordered me to send all of you to Waldenburg! You are to give them eternal darkness, you will blacken the sky and rain down Hell! Spread the might of our Hammer upon the Waldenburg forces! Destroy their land! Kill everything that opposes the Unholy Empire and Gholgoth! Go now and fly for Sky Island! Help your Gholgoth brethren bring down those dogs of Waldenburg. Once you have destroyed that scum, join up with our Imperial Armada in Greston and show them the power you showed Waldenburg! Let the seas of Mediterranica turn red!" When he finished, the pilots cheered and rushed to their aircraft. Hours passed before the entire air fleet was in the air, heading towards Sky Island.

Re: Endgame [Semi-closed. ATTN: Vorgoth, Waldenburg + allies]

PostPosted: Fri Jul 17, 2009 6:59 pm
by Waldenburg 2
OOC I have returned and hope to get back up to steam soon. Just as a note there is no need to include the ‘2’ with Waldenburg; it’s only Waldenburg.

IC

Off the Coast of Blünderburg: Under the Kreigian Fleet


Hardwired to the ground there was nothing that could prevent the release of the mines barring a direct severing of the cable and the activation wen through without a hitch. Brigadier Stoffer watched contentedly from a display in the Naval Intelligence Headquarters, elbowing aside several passing men laboring under the weight of nearly three hundred orders of Prawn Meal A with fried rice.

There were many thousands of mines out in the defensive grids of Blünderburg, intended to be released in sections; the Naval Intelligence Office had opted for a full release in an effort that would put almost every enemy, as well as quite a few allied ships in center of an ever expanding and dangerously thick minefield.

All sections were rising happily as the enemy cannons began their pounding; General Stoffer had not realized the enemy were so close or the shore batteries, for which Waldenburg went in for in a big way, would have lite up the harbor. They were doing so now in great staccato pulses that from the Naval Office sounded like the chatter of rifle fire.

His mines though, tethered in their ascent to prevent severe drifting with cheap plastic line were unfortunately limited to 20 meters via the line and generally less within their weak magnetic field, a necessary evil if an enemy were destroyed if a ship ever wished to pass through Blünderburg again, rose silently, with nothing more than the power of gravity from the hulks of long downed Chukaconian dreadnoughts, or sleek Pontean Frigates, or the myriad of ships that littered the bay from several hundred years of great and bloody conflict.

North Blünderburg Coastal Defense: Granzimmerburg

"Claus?" Captain Eric Strause asked peevishly as he peered shortsightedly at a blazing destroyer that had been cast of from its mooring before it continued to do any more damage to the fuel oil supplies that now spilled into the immediate harbor area. "My mother always used to tell me a story about the 8th Grey War."

"Oh," Major Noffel essayed a sashay over the top of his overturned writing desk at the scene unfolding around him. "Do tell Eric?"

"Well so see," the captain began pausing only long enough for a baleful explosion to rock their office, "There was an old man in the village where we used to live, according to my mother, who when on being confronted with the Chukaconian invasion did not pick up arms and die gloriously, run away, hide, or pray. He walked out onto the beach and shook hands with the advanced party and talked to them for awhile about sparrows or something."

"With A Chukaconian? The man must have been mad."

"Oh, well we did find him several days later nailed upside down to a tree, but what I am trying to say is how many truly mad men do you meet in your life?"

"About," Major Noffel stood, adjusted his tunic, "260,000 by my best estimates just hoving over the horizon. Get your hat Eric; we're going out."
---

There was a problem as the Waldenburg High Civil Defense Command had seen it, supersonic missiles could outrun most things, most of the munitions that Waldenburg could throw into the sky in great enough volume for example and sound itself. A problem that in the end had the easier solution. The Lüftenshaker missile had been patented and sent into mass production; based on ancient sonic proximity missiles created by a group of rather nasty Nazi engineers the principle had been somewhat upgraded and the slow moving rockets had become one of the greatest weapons in the arsenal of the Empire.

When a frequency or sound of sufficient caliber vibrated a taught wire within the rocket that detonated a shaped charged that propelled a large amount of shrapnel backwards from the rocket; with a simple turn of mathematics the rockets would detonate just slightly behind a super or hypersonic as the air reassert itself, and explode outwards at over 5,000 meters a second directly into the engines of most conventional aerospace designs.

It was perhaps then a great surprise to Kreigian pilots as the lower batteries swatted their missiles from their air in great shards of metal. A constant stream being targeted at incoming enemies would ensure that any ordinance with the proper velocities, if not the planes themselves, would be torn to ribbons. At any point along their trajectory, which was being relayed back and crunched by a number of sensors and supporting computers placed throughout the city that could project a incoming objects path to pin point accuracy.

Barrage balloons intended to be reduced to nothing more than a flaming hull stood strong and continued to put forth a withering volley of fire that controlled sky lanes, and forced incoming enemies into the path of wide area indirect fire.

When in due time the first wave of fighters had passed the first quadrant of defenses turned themselves back to the sea, the system had been designed to counter waves upon waves of fire, and the second quadrant was equally impressive and more than adequate in dealing with munitions and fighters. Waldenburg understood the meaning of sacrifice and would not fall for the old bait and switch technique.
--

"Corporal!" Two twenty inch guns had been keeping up a steady pace for the last ten minutes as the massive loaders thudded shells into place with a speed no ship could match if it ever wished to maneuver. The naval defenses had admittedly been designed primarily to defend against smaller craft entering the Allumna islands and into the harbor, however there were many batteries along the shoreline that could oppose the enemy fleet. "Radio command," Captain Jamison thought for a moment, "actually nope. Nothing to complain about here." He patted the increasingly hot side of 'Major Thomas' his 20 inch barrage gun that fired cluster munitions, that if the charges were timed correctly could detonate over an a considerable area.

There was little the renown defense of the city could do against the shelling, although dozens of dummy sites were taking a great deal of stress off the main batteries, however most of the port facilities were on fire as well as a majority of the expansive brown water fleet that had been tasked with holding the harbor. A vast majority of the batteries were still operating however and producing a great and mighty thundering.

Jamison wiped his forehead with a spotted handkerchief and muttered to himself, “You meet one mad man and you meet them all. Frontal naval assault…” he shook his head and smiled slightly, “you’d think they’d learn.”