With a morale boost following their earlier advance, the Asgarthian Ground Forces were in a rather joyful mood. Thus, when news came that a further assault was planned, the forces couldn’t help but celebrate. Having seen how easily the Valarisk lines had fallen last time, they were confident in their victory.
The target was the Valarisk defensive line between Ritsa’s Ridge and Creek Airi. If the line fell, the entente’s territory would be split in two, providing confederate forces the ability to divide and conquer.
The assault began just after noon. 150,000 Asgarthian troops from the 15th, 16th, 22nd and 24th broke through their lines and began to swarm the Valarisk lines. Composed mostly of Harrenite milita, with some Valarisk units, the defensive line was most certainly intimidating, but capturing it remained of vital importance to the Asgarthian forces.
Whilst they were completely outnumbered, the Harrenites tried their best to hold off the attackers. But the overwhelming numbers swarmed the defensive fortifications and forced the milita to retreat. Wave after wave of Asgarthians made their presence known, and the battle culminated quickly.
With the line between Ritsa’s Ridge and Creek Airi secured, the entente had been severed in two. Now, the Valarisk and Myraxians would be forced to fight alone. But the Asgarthians could not rest. Work had to commence on their own defensive line. A decision was taken not to fortify the first line. Instead, work began on significant defensive fortifications on the second line. The reasoning for this was simple; the first line did not matter so much as the second. As long as the entente remained separated, the Ground Force would have done their job.
Peaks Tate
Meanwhile, in the south west, the 1st Ground Force were busy enjoying their own successes. With the beachhead secured, plans were already underway to begin a further assault. The 23rd Ground Force had arrived to reinforce the men of the 1st, providing a considerable force of some 150,000 men.
With knowledge that the Myraxian forces were concentrated in the eastern section of the republic, the west was largely for the taking. The advance south began just as the assault on Ritsa’s Ridge finished. The Asgarthian forces would move as far south as possible, hoping to extend their influence in Republican territory. While the forces would not dare enter Taygetus Heights again, it was hoped that they would provide enough of a distraction for the Myraxians, to allow the forces in Ritsa’s Ridge some breathing room.
Small pockets of Harrenite militias attempted to hold the Asgarthian assault, but to no avail. The swarm of Asgarthians simply overran the Harrenites, who were forced to retreat or else be killed. When the skirmishes stopped, work began on more defensive fortifications. There was little need to travel further into the island; for indeed, any further would take them back to Taygetus.
A.R.S.E. Progredimur, Orbit Above Harren
Captain Yultsin snapped back at Commander Decentius
“This is not a game, Commander. Our colleagues are currently being attacked by the fucking goblins. Your people, at that! You’d do well to remember that.”
He turned back to Lieutenant Blythe. “Prepare to launch again. Destroy the fuckers.”
“Weapons are close to overheating, sir.” Blythe replied
“Do it! Our men are dying below! Destroy those ships!”
“Yes sir.” Blythe pushed the buttons again, but as soon as he did found the ship shaking violently. An alert flashed across the ship, announcing “Weapons Malfunction”
“What the hell was that?” Yultsin asked.
“Scanning…” Ensign Constans piped up. “Sir, the missiles imploded inside the tubes. They’ve crippled our missiles, but our lasers are still good to go.”
“Fire when ready, Lieutenant.”
“Sir, that could be catastrophic!
“Fire Lieutenant!” The captain barked.
“Yes sir. Firing in 3..2...1…” The Lieutenant observed, before shaking his head. “Missed, sir. The missiles are crippled and the lasers are useless. We’re defenceless”
“So we’re fucked?”
“We’re still floating, but only just.” Ensign Constans stated. “Sir, should I radio command?”
“Get on it.”
The ensign began to radio out. “Progredimur to Command. Command are you receiving?”
“Receiving.” A voice responded. “Progredimur. What the fuck is happening up there? You fucked your laser shot, and there is no sign of any missiles.”
“The missiles are crippled sir. They’ll be of little use now. We need urgent evac. The Progredimur is at risk.”
“Understand, Progredimur. Help is on the way.”
The crew of the Progredimur momentarily relaxed. With the Custodiemus on the way, all they had to do was stay afloat. A job that would be easier said than done.
“Sir, I’m picking up a foreign ship” Ensign Constans called, as he checked the scanners.
“Who is it? Myraxians? Valarisk?”
“No sir. I’ve never seen a ship like it. It’s small, sir, but it’s heading right for us and... they’re firing sir. Hostile ship inbound.”
“Oh that’s all we needed. Ensign, emergency command 4. Lieutenant, vaporize the torpedo.”
“Already on it.”
Using the still functioning laser, the Progredimur managed to destroy the incoming torpedo. But with limited firepower, the Progredimur had to make a choice. Risk further use of the lasers, or stay a sitting duck. They were still alone out there, with help far far away.
A.R.S.E. Custodiemus, Orbit Around The Ice Moon of Hell, Apate System
The Custodiemus had only been based in the orbit of Hell for a month, but already the moon below felt like home to the men. A large outpost had been built on the moon below, which housed a scientific team. Meanwhile, on the smaller moon of Hull, a smaller outpost had been developed, which monitored the far outreaches of the Apate system.
With the Vorkatrov engaged with the Valarisk ship, the Custodiemus was the only ship that could provide assistance to the Progredimur. It had been ordered to return to Origin by command, and was preparing to make the long and arduous journey back home. Upon hearing about the difficulty faced by his brother’s ship, Captain Belcona Yultsin had immediately touched base with the Vorkatrov, to inform them that the Custodiemus was withdrawing from the system and that Hell and Hull would require their assistance. What followed were a load of vulgarities – mostly from Captain Maecenus – before the Vorkatrov agreed to protect the bases and outposts on the two moons; once the small issue of the Valarisk had been taken care of.
Following that, Captain Yultsin had been busy letting his men on the two moons know why the Custodiemus was abandoning their position. He had already spoken with the men on the outpost on Hull, and was now focussing his attention on the men on the planet below.
“Custodiemus to Hell. Are you receiving, Hell?”
“Receiving you loud and clear Custodiemus.” The voice of Lieutenant Asola Perkita responded. “What’s the issue sir?”
“The Progredimur has taken significant damage from her own missiles. The Custodiemus has been ordered to return to Origin as part of the rescue effort.”
“You’re leaving sir? We’ll be vulnerable, you realise?”
“We don’t have a choice. Either we get back to Origin or the Progredimur is dust. I’m sorry, but there is no other way. The Vorkatrov will be in touch shortly.”
“Understood sir. Good luck.”
With that, the Custodiemus prepared to travel through the Object once more; and then onwards to Harren. The Progredimur would be fine – if they could get to her in time.
A.R.S.E. Asgarthian Regional HQ, Red Island, Northern Epiloan Islands
The central command for Asgar-Rome Space Exploration was split into two related, but distinct headquarters. One was based in Ravenna, Romae. The other was on Red Island in Asgarthian Epilo. This division was headed by Admiral Yasley Besci Yultsin, whose two sons captained the Progredimur and Custodiemus. Indeed, the Yultsin family had been involved with A.R.S.E from the outset; Yasley’s father had signed the initial agreement some 50 years ago. Admiral Yultsin was heading an emergency meeting with the Epiloan command.
“The Progredimur’s risk status has been upgraded to Level 4, suggesting there is a strong risk of it crashing or burning. To that end, a contingency plan must be created. I have spoken with Praetorian Prefect Flavius Marius Otho in Archon and we have agreed to co-fund phase 2 of the Asgar-Rome Space Exploration program. A new carrier class will now be funded, with research and development beginning next week. The carrier class shall be known as the Altori class, and it shall be comprised of 3 carrier ships, the first being the namesake Altori. The other two are currently unnamed, but the Prefect and I are bouncing ideas around.”
Mr. Blue shook his head, before speaking. “The Altori class is all well and good, but it will not help us in the present! What is our strategy?”
Admiral Yultsin turned and smirked. “The Custodiemus, under the control of Captain Belcona Yultsin, has already been ordered to leave Hell and return to orbit. The Custodiemus will rescue the Progredimur.”
Mr. Pink scowled. “One of your sons got us into this mess! What makes you think the other can get us out?”
Admiral Yultsin turned defensive, slamming his fists as he stated “Mr. Blue, control your pet. The captains of the Progredimur and Custodiemus are the finest we have. They will do their duties for the good of the Empire!”
Mr. Blue held out a hand, warning Mr. Pink to back off, before he spoke. “The Custodiemus is a fine vessel, but she will not arrive anytime soon. The Progredimur requires urgent back-up.”
Admiral Yultsin smirked. “Indeed. And that is where the Rodens class come into play.”
A.R.S.E. Lunar Base, Orbit Around Origin
A.R.S.E. had many secret bases around Origin. From the volcano base in [Redacted] to the arctic base in [Redacted]. The old underwater base, Stonelight, had been requisitioned by A.R.S.E. following the collapse of N.O.D.E, and was used as a prison for several [Redacted]s.
Yet despite this impressive array of bases, there was one that pipped the rest. A lunar base, on one of the two moons of Origin, that was so secret that not even the Asgarthian or Roman governments knew about it. Work had begun on the base swiftly after A.R.S.E. was founded, with the intention being that it would open after 15 years. However, due to a lack of funding, the grand opening was delayed numerous times. It would, in the end, take 30 years until the base was fully operational.
But when it did finally become operational, it proved to be a valuable asset. It’s first purpose was to build a secret class of ships had begun to be built. The Rodens Class were small ships, capable of faster speeds than the Progredimur Class, though with less focus on its firepower. Too small to utilise lasers, the Rodens were equipped with missiles and railguns.
Twenty ships had been commissioned, though only five were currently being built. Of these, three were fit for flight. The three ships were the A.R.S.E. Rodens, A.R.S.E. Sovereign and A.R.S.E. Certus Mors were small five man vessels. The Certus Mors was captained by Herius Caprenius Velus whilst Captain Ekic Batan headed up A.R.S.E. Sovereign. Leading the way into battle, the Rodens was captained by Decius Calvisius Mutilus.
With little time to prepare, their ammunition stocks were limited. As a result, the pilots of the Rodens were well aware that if the Progredimur was attacked, they may be forced to ram the enemy. This could easily turn into a suicide mission. But one they could ill-afford to lose.
The base opened, and the Rodens began to move out.
(OOC: Further information on the Rodens can be found here )
Regini, Isle of Gespe
There are some horrors beyond words. Beyond contemplation. Some acts of sheer cowardice that tear apart the very fabrics of humanity. Acts like these occur once, maybe twice, in a generation. It is tragic, therefore, that such an act had to befall the people of the peaceful city of Regini. The people of Regini were factory workers, fishermen and bakers. Doctors, Lawyers and bankers. Its military presence was limited. Yet it had been the target of the most atrocious of attacks.
But this account cannot reflect upon the evils that dwell in the world. Days like these show the very worst of humanity. But they can also bring out the very best. Asgarthians of all creed, of all races, of all continents flocked to the city of Regini to do their part. They helped with the rescue efforts; flying in or else sailing as close to shore as possible and picking up survivors. Standing in line to donate blood, organs even. Offering cups of tea and food to the rescue workers who worked night and day, desperately hoping to find one more loved one, one more child.
And across the empire, citizens stood in solidarity. For the first time in 100 years, churches across the Empire were opened so that the people could pay their respects to the people of Regini. Strangers sat together in pews, offering mutual solace, and hope. Nothing was said, but at the same time everything was said. Age old friends and fierce enemies sat side by side in shock, in solidarity. General de’Lance led processions in Archon, laying wreaths on all four islands. He visited Regini just 24 hours after the detonation, against the advice of his doctors. But de’Lance went anyway. Not just to see the damage – of which there was plenty – but also, and perhaps more importantly, to see the resolve of his people.
Old veterans wiped tears from their eyes. This was not the warfare they had come to respect. The deaths of thousands of innocents was incomprehensible to them. Children so cruelly snatched from this world, or else orphaned; children who had seen their parents killed right in front of them. This was no act of war. This was a war crime.
For the first time in the history of Asgareth, bars and pubs closed for the day to mark their respects. Flags across the empire flew at half-mast; the red, white and yellow of Asgareth flowed freely in the wind. But the flag of Asgareth would come to represent something else that day. For in the city of Regini itself, the flag and its pole stood defiant; the last symbol of the city. Smouldering debris surrounded it, but the flag survived. That flag represented everything to Asgarthians in Rusina, Epilo, Archon and Valtameri. The Asgarthian Empire stood shaken, but defiant.
The people of Regini did not deserve to suffer as they did. There was nothing the empire could have done to save them. But that didn’t mean their suffering had to be in vain.
Aykia, Isle of Gespe
With the nuking of Regini, an emergency session of the war council had been called. There was a sombre mood in the room as the commanding officers came to terms with the destruction of Regini. General de'Lance had been woken up three minutes after the nuke hit and the council had assembled within 20 minutes. They had spent the first three hours nervously listening to the reports from the outskirts of the city. Death tolls varied between 1 old lady and 50 million Reginians – though the latter figure, it would later transpire, had come from the satire magazine The Daily Mail. Casualty rates were even more extreme, with some suggesting the fallout was as far ranging as Asgar City, after a young boy there reported flu-like symptoms.
Following the hours of chaos, the war council decided to begin talking about retribution. General Pasquin had suggested they “did a Rome”, and send 4000 nukes directly onto the island. Admiral Pertika, meanwhile, suggested they talk with the Entente forces and order them to leave the island so that Asgareth could restore law and order to the troubled land. General de’Lance, however, had a different idea. In front of him sat three identical brown folders. Within them, they each had a different revenge plan. The council had deliberated over each of them for several hours
“Our course of action must strike fear into the hearts of these terrorists. Whatever we do, whenever we do it, the Harrenites must feel the full wrath of Asgareth.”
“That’s where I’m confused” General Pasquin commented. “Operation Greenface… How will that strike fear?”
“These terrorists will learn that we will catch them. Wherever they are. No country is safe.”
“But the target wasn’t even involved?” Pasquin replied.
“Regini wasn’t involved. It didn’t stop the Harrenites nuking it!”
“Speaking of which, why are we nuking that target?” Pertika asked. “Surely it’ll be easier to hit civilian centres?”
“Easier, yes. But that will give the Harrenites propaganda. Hitting a military installation, on the other hand? That’s war.” De’Lance chuckled
“Yes, but what would the Jiqazi say? We are talking about destroying territory on our ally’s doorstep.” Pasquin replied.
“The Jiqazi will fall in line. We’ll send flowers.”
“What if they don’t?”
“Then blood will be on their hands.” General de’Lance replied calmly. “This war has gone on for too long. I intend to end it. The Romans have lost 350,000 in recent days. We lost another 100,000 at Taygetus. Thus, fresh blood is required. To that end, the entirety of the 19th Ground Force will now be deployed. 1 million Asgarthian troops will make their presence heard on Harren."
"The entire 19th? Sir, this is most unusual. Only in defensive wars are an entire ground force deployed."
"This is a defensive war! The entente remain on Confederate land. It is time we quashed them."
The general took a swig of his whiskey, before stating. "If that is all, I’ve a procession to attend. Will you be accompanying, gentlemen?”
The three men rose, and walked out of the room in unison. Dressed in black suits, they swiftly were driven to the cathedral in Aykia, where a service began.
Undermine City, Aurum
It was rare for an Asgarthian to visit the Auruumite capital. Typically, upon arrival, they would find themselves being quarantined before being given a very thorough medical exam – with no gloves. If they were lucky enough to pass that, they may – if they were fortunate – be allowed to head towards security, where they would be screened for weapons, gold and money. If caught with any, they would be guaranteed to lose it all, and likely be sent on the next plane back to Asgareth. Undermine City was so unwelcoming to Asgarthians, that holiday companies had stopped selling packages there several years ago.
But this did not stop all Asgarthians from entering the city. Askor Garva had certainly enjoyed his stay in the goblin capital so far. He hadn’t actually left his apartment since his arrival, but the apartment had everything he needed. A nice double bed, a cosy living area and a large kitchen. The fridge was stocked full of Asgarthian Ale; something that had come as a surprise to Askor, for he was under the impression that the Asgarthians had stopped shipping ale abroad many years ago.
How Askor came to be in Aurum is a question that needs exploring. Askor was a member of the Black Guard; the elite Intelligence Service of Asgareth. He was here to do a very important job; a job he had actually been preparing to do for several months. It had been sped up as a direct result of the attack on Regini, and now a mere two hours after stepping off the Valarisk flight, he found himself preparing to do what had to be done. To avoid security and border control, he had used a rather authentic looking Aurumite passport to enter the goblin city. The passport had given his name as “Nikkle Andime”, a goblin merchant. Various stamps had been forged, suggesting travels in Myraxia, Valyrien and Khyrene, so as to give an air of authenticity.
Curious eyes may question how a human could so easily use a goblin passport. For some time, Asgarthian scientists had dedicated their time to developing an authentic paste, that when put on the skin would allow the wearer to appear to be a goblin. Askor had carefully applied the paste to his face and exposed limbs, so as to give off the appearance of a goblin. Askor’s height certainly helped in that regard – he was considerably shorter than most Asgarthians. He was sat in his apartment, rented in the same name as that of his passport, carefully re-applying the green paste to his face. The paste smelt dreadful, but it had done the job so far. In truth, the paste was only to blend into the crowds of the city; once he was at his target location his appearance would not matter. He glanced in the mirror quickly and smiled to himself. If he didn’t know better, he would think he was looking at a goblin, and would be reaching for his pistol.
A goblin would have little business in the apartment of the ambassador, and so therefore Askor would be forced to sneak in. The plan was simple. He’d wait for the supply truck to the embassy to arrive at a crossroads. He’d hijack the vehicle and drive it through the gates unexpected. Once there, he’d enter the building via an unlocked entrance, and hide out until midnight. Then, he would climb the stairs to the 4th floor apartment of the director, where his target would lie sleeping.
The first part of the plan went splendidly. He caught up with the delivery vehicle about a mile away from the embassy, killed the driver (chucking the body in the cargo).
He drove the vehicle to the embassy, where an armed Harrenite stood beside a barrier. Handing over some more forged papers, he nodded at the chap.
“Nikkle?” The guard asked. “Don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
“First week” Askor smirked. “Just dropping off the staples. Breads, cereals and the like.”
“Just as well.” The guard smirked. “We ran out of coco pops this morning. I was most upset. Deliveries are on your left. Someone will be around to help if you need them.” The guard pressed the button and the barrier began to raise. Askor slowly rolled in towards. Upon arriving at the deliveries lot, he abandoned the vehicle and made his way to the main building. He snuck in via a back entrance, and hid himself in a cleaning closet. There, he would remain until the time was right.
Some six hours later, he silently left the closet. Cautiously, he turned around the corner to find a lift facing him. He pressed the buzzer, and the doors opened. The ride up was 30 seconds at worst, but it felt far longer. The doors opened on the 4th floor, and Askor immediately took in his surroundings. A guard stood outside the director’s room. Some would resort to violence; shooting the guard where he stood. Others may retreat. Askor, meanwhile, had another idea.
“Keelan Leo?” Askor enquired.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” Keelan replied, cautiously glancing at Askor. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Husband of Kila? Father to Spiro and Owen?”
Keelan’s eyes widened in shock. “How do you know who I am? How do you know my family?”
Askor held out his phone, and handed it to Keelan.
“Hello?” The guard enquired.
“Keelan?” A woman’s voice trembled on the other line. “They’ve taken us. The Myraxians… they’ve taken us. They’ve taken Spiro and Owen away from me, Keelan. I don’t know where they are. I don’t know…”
“Kila? Are you okay? It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” Keelan replied, trying to calm his wife down. “They won’t harm them. I’ll make sure of that.”
“I heard gunshots, Keelan. What if they… what if the Myraxians…. What if our children are dead?”
“Kila…. I promise you. I will find them. Everything is going to be okay.” Keelan stated, before handing back the phone to Askor. He looked more scared than angry. “What do you want from us, you scumbag?”
Keelan’s family had remained on Harren Island, believing it to be safer than the goblin state. This had allowed the Asgarthian forces there to kidnap them. However, not wishing to be seen as the bad guys, the Asgarthian forces had used Myraxian uniforms during their assault. Of course, Keelan was not to know this.
“My name is Askor. I am an Asgarthian operative. We can save your family from these Myraxians. But first, I ask you to step aside, and allow me to access the director’s bedroom.”
“You’re…. you’re Asgarthian? The same Asgarthians that murdered thousands in Prokopios? That have massacred cities, in the name of tyranny?”
“The very same.” Askor smirked. “But we can help you… Kellan, was it? Keelan? We can help save YOUR family from the Myraxians. Ask yourself, why have they taken your family hostage. What have you done to upset them?”
“Nothing.” Keelan responded.
“You haven’t been stealing rations, perhaps?” Askor asked with a smirk.
“They wouldn’t?” Keelan stated. “Not for that?”
Askor shrugged, before stating “Stand aside, old boy. Let me finish what the director started.”
“You promise… you promise you can save them?”
“Of course. If you tell no one.”
Keelan nodded his head, before he slowly turned to unlock the director’s bedroom. Once it was unlocked, he walked away in silence. Askor quietly opened the door and walked in. He turned on the lights, hoping they wouldn’t wake the director. Thankfully, they did not.
The bedroom was exceptionally large. A king sized bed lay in the centre, were the director slept. The bed was disproportionate to the number of occupants – in other words, he slept alone. A chandelier hung directly above the bed, and Askor couldn’t help but consider the consequences if it were to simply fall onto the director. A large desk sat in one corner, on another there was a large corner sofa with a TV. The corner sofa complexed Askor somewhat. There were simply too many seats for the director; for intelligence suggested he rarely had anyone over.
Askor moved to the far side of the bed, and stared down as the director peacefully slept.
A small hand pistol caught his eye. He picked it up and examined it. It appeared to be loaded, with the safety off. Foolish, really, Askor thought. Anything could’ve happened. He continued to stare at the director as he slept. He looked so innocent. So peaceful.
Askor drew a large knife from his pocket, and moved it towards Rezi’s neck. It was better this way, Askor thought. Quicker, cleaner and quieter.
He pressed the cold blade against Rezi and slowly began to draw it along his neck. Rezi awoke in time to see the green goblin attacking him. Instinctively, the director reached out to his desk, clambering for his pistol. Upon discovering it had been removed, he tried to scream. Askor moved his hand to the directors mouth, and quietly shushed him. “Hush now Rezi. It’ll all be over soon.”
The director kicked out against Rezi, who felt a blow to the balls. In retribution, he plunged the knife deeper into the neck, causing the director to shake violently. The director began to cough up blood, which poured onto Askor’s green hand. He recoiled it in disgust, allowing the director to give out one almighty scream. With time now against him, Askor plunged his knife firmly into the chest of the director to finish the job.
“For Regini.” He muttered, as the director’s eyes dawned for the last time.
Askor moved towards the window and climbed out of it, without looking back. With any luck, he would be back in Asgareth by the morning. If not, well… the empire came first.
Chuuk
For some time the Harrenese occupied territory of Chuuk had been a source of great concern for the Asgarthian authorities. Chuuk was exceptionally close to Isles of Archon, leaving them vulnerable. Not only that, but it now bordered Friendly Island. While Asgareth and Rome had committed hundreds of thousands of troops to the island, to remove the remaining friendly forces, there was a fear across the empire that the Harrenites on Chuuk may attempt to capture friendlies and weaponize them against the confederacy.
In many ways, the Asgarthian leadership were also wary of how quickly the Jiqazi’s had jumped into bed with the Harrenites. They had willing given up part of the disputed territory to allow the Harrenites to build a military base. They had then permitted Jiqazi citizens to work and live in Chuuk, something that Asgareth found abhorrent. Despite being a member of the Confederacy, the intentions of the Jiqazi remained unclear. For that reason, Asgareth simply had to act.
When intelligence reports had suggested that Chuuk harboured nuclear weapons, something that would later be proven to be false, five nuclear submarines had taken strategic positionings surrounding the stronghold. Armed with three missiles each, their targets were already specified; the northern and southern harbours, the trade port, the shipyard and most importantly Chuuk’s weapon base.
Within an hour of the attack on Regini, the order came through. Believing that the Harrenites harboured more nuclear warheads in Chuuk, General de’Lance personally ratified Order 492, commanding the submarines to launch their warheads. In total, 15 missiles were launched from the submarines. Their targets would try to fight back, but the fate of Chuuk had been sealed.
At the same time, a letter was sent to the Jiqazi government. Three daisies were sent attached to the letter, which read:
To whom it concerns,
The attack on Chuuk was a necessary course of action. Evidence suggests that the Harrense terrorists, known as the “Heartlanders” have acquired thousands of nuclear warheads, that they planned to use against Confederacy members. As part of our promise to protect Confederate members, the Asgarthian Empire reluctantly acted.
Of course, your people would not be suffering in such great numbers if you had not made peace with the Harrense in the first place. Their deaths are as much on your hands as they are on the Harrense. With that said, the Asgarthian government is willing to forgive you for this treachery.
As a gesture of our goodwill, the Asgarthian government are willing to provide some 1500 emergency workers, who will clear the debris and toxic waste from the island. If you accept these workers they will be considered your property, and will be under your instruction.
Once more, please accept our sincerest apologies for the incursion, and please accept these flowers as a symbol of our solidarity.
Signed:
Askai Palyn
Junior under-secretary to the secretary of the personal assistant for the secretary to General Edmund de’Lance, Marshal of Asgareth.
xoxoxo
Western Rusinan Sea
The attack on Chuuk would, rightly or wrongly, be condemned. Across the world it would likely make the evening news.
But it would not be the headline.
For at the same time, a third mission was afoot. One so diabolical and evil, many would never believe it could have come from such a nice nation as the Asgarthian Empire.
In the western Rusinan sea, dozens of ferries continued their journey towards Asgareth. Onboard, were approximately 100,000 children from the cities of Odele and Tsuru. Officially, they were being evacuated from the warzone out of the goodness of Asgareth’s heart. In reality, they were being used as political pawns against their parents. Misbehaviour would cause the little ones to suffer an agonizing death. While the parents got the memo, the heartlander terrorists had not. The nuking of Regini could only mean one thing. The children had to die.
But of course, Asgareth could not allow itself to be made out to be the bad guy. Inspiration was struck from an old plan from the Second Rusinan Conflict. The Asgarthians had carried out a bombing on the Acadian port of Soissons, only to turn around and claim the Romans had done it, and had painted their planes to resemble Asgarthian colours. The plan had worked well; in so much as the Acadians publicly blamed Rome, while absolving Asgareth of any and all blame. But the plan had evolved somewhat – and all that was needed was some grey paint.
High above, hundreds of planes began to make a partial descent. They drew closer and closer to the ferries, with just one aim. The planes bore the grey colour of Valyrien; the sun emblazoned on the wing. Upon hearing approaching aircraft, the children on the ferries ran to the balcony, hoping to catch a glimpse. Upon realising they were decorated in the colours of the Valarisk, they couldn’t help but cheer – they were saved. They had heard so many stories of the great northern empire; the saviours of the goblins. Supposedly, the pilots carried plenty of chocolate with them as well – something that had been in short supply due to the Confederacy blockade. The children were certainly looking forward to that.
With the children out in the open, the plan was in full motion. The planes roared, and in unison deployed their payloads. Hundreds upon hundreds of bombs fell from the skies, aimed at the ferries below. They hit their defenceless targets with ease. The Asgarthian men on board were well aware of what was happening; and what the cost would be, but they did not care. They had been reassured that their families would be well taken care of, and that they would become martyrs back home.
Above, planes circled the fiery scene, filming the destruction as they did so. Their film proved that Valarisk planes were used to blow up the ferries; ferries with thousands of children on board. They also showed Asgarthian soldiers bravely shielding the children with their bodies, but to no avail. The ferries were wrecks; slowly sinking into the ocean. The children that could escape the burning wrecks would be dead within hours; drowning in the unforgiving northern sea. Within hours, the future generation of Harrenites had been decimated.
Meanwhile, the “Valarisk” planes returned to their airfield in North Archon. They were quickly scrubbed of all grey paint, and repainted with their true colours – Red, Yellow and Orange.
***
Several Hours Earlier:
It had been 2000 years since slavery in Asgareth had been abolished by Leximus Altori. Many Asgarthians were proud that they had led the way in this regard.
However, General de’Lance had become convinced that the Jiqazi would expect the Asgarthians to clean up their mess. While the general did not wish to upset the Jiqazi by refusing to clean up the mess, he had absolutely no desire to use Asgarthians to clear up a hazardous zone. To counteract this problem, a new executive order was issued. It stated:
Executive Order 002:
As of this day, all Harrenites are stripped of their status as “humans”. They are henceforth classed as “property”. Their former belongings now belong to the Asgarthian Empire. Any belongings removed from Asgarthian possession will result in criminal charges.
Three ferries had been selected at random, and diverted to the northern Archonian mainland. Some would see this as a blessing, given what was to come. Their cargo had little idea of the horrors that would await them.
Some 1500 Harrenite children were taken to the Archonian mainland. Upon their arrival the children they disembarked from the ferries, and joined an ever growing line. Many cried loudly, begging for their mothers. Siblings tried to comfort each other, but to no avail.
They were led into a makeshift tent, and told to sit down. A red hot poker then branded their left hands with the flag of Asgareth, symbolising them as property. Upon being branded, they were loaded onto coaches and taken to a detention camp, where they were processed and divided into 10 different units. The Empire had need of them.
But for now, the Empire had struck back.
