We Have Lots of New Friends (Inactive)

[United Avon]

PLEASE READ THE OP OF THE OOC THREAD HERE BEFORE POSTING

Pallais
Capital City of Caledonia

He stared out the window of the expansive office, looking down one of the main boulevards of the city. A few short years ago, tanks had rolled across this strip of pavement, barreling down the road towards the palace which stood at the other end. That palace was empty now, an abandoned, cordoned-off relic of the monarchy that he had toppled. They had been fools. The Queen had been elderly, incapable of ruling a modern state. Her son was competent, but hampered by a trust in poor advisors. They had deceived the prince and filled their own coffers until the royal treasury had run dry, then fled Caledonia and left their dupes to the rage of the masses.

He had seen the writing on the wall and thrown his support behind the mob. His tanks had crushed the gate of the palace under their treads. The Queen and her daughter had escaped, but the prince had foolishly thought he could appeal to some latent patriotism in the crowd. Instead he had been thrown against the bullet-cratered wall with the rest of the aristocracy and sent on to the next world. Now he, Diego Gaspar Navarro, ruled the Democratic People’s Republic of Caledonia. He had filled the treasury again by playing on the sympathies of the wealthy world. He had given those without jobs employment and pride by drafting them into the military. He had returned to Caledonia the power it had once held.

Only one thing stood in his way: the princess. She remained a threat to him, because she had been beloved before the revolution. Those who chafed under his reign used her name as a shorthand for a hopeful future. As long as she lived, she could mobilize the international community against him and plot a return. The Avonians had given her and her mother sanctuary, and recognized her claim to the throne when the old crone had finally slipped away. Avon was an old empire, left behind by the tides of history. But they could still be a threat. Luckily, a way to deal with both issues had just presented itself.

“The Princess is going to visit Saint Georgia Island.” The other man in the room, wearing a uniform only slightly less elaborate than Navarro’s, repeated the main takeaway of his report. “She’s going to meet with some of the exiles who live on the island, and tour the new facilities the Avonian government built.” General Granger had been another forward-thinking officer, who had helped ensure the success of the revolution by blocking the loyalist elements of the military from coming to the monarchy’s assistance. Navarro had rewarded him with a top post in the new government.

“Prepare the military,” Navarro said as he turned away from the window. “Dig up the old invasion plans. We will accomplish many objectives through this one stroke. Not only will we capture the princess, but we will seize the new airport and harbor.” Saint Georgia Island stood astride major shipping lanes. If Caledonia was to take control of the new airport and harbor that Avon had so thoughtfully constructed for them, they would exert serious influence on the world economy. They would go from a nation not worth mentioning to one that could not be ignored.

“What about Avon?” Granger’s question had merit. Saint Georgia Island had once been a colony of the Kingdom of Avon. It had been stolen from the Caledonian Empire centuries ago. Now it was a part of their Royal Commonwealth. An attack on the island would be an attack on the United Kingdom as well.

“They will do nothing more than shout and stamp their feet.” Navarro had spent years building Caledonia into a power to be feared. He would relish the chance to demonstrate that power against Avon, and strike that fear into the whole world.

Galion
Capital City of Avon

It was raining in the capital, again. The island of Avon was notorious for its gloomy weather - days of cloudless sun were rare even in summer. Prime Minister Richard Pitt had lived in Galion all his life, so the soft patter of raindrops on the windows had long since stopped being something he noticed. It simply faded into the background. If only some of his other problems were so considerate.

One issue he wished would fade into nonexistence was the problem of Saint Georgia Island. The island paradise was a valuable member of the Royal Commonwealth. It provided the United Kingdom of Avon with a key forward operating base in a volatile region of the world. It had been a peaceful place until the bloody revolution had overtaken Caledonia. Now there were Marxists in the mountains, hoping to spread that revolution to the island. Royal Intelligence had begun to gather evidence that Caledonia was supporting the rebels directly with shipments of weapons and supplies. Just last month Pitt had authorized the deployment of a company of paratroopers to the island, to supplement the Royal Marines and the local defense force. The Saint Georgia Island Royal Associators Battalion was more of a social club than a military organization, and the company of Royal Marines that had been stationed on the island had been running themselves ragged trying to keep a lid on the situation.

Pitt knew the Caledonians had designs on the island. It had once been ruled by Caledonia, and that claim was one of the few things the new government had retained from the monarchical period. Pitt had embraced the big projects on the island--expanding the harbor and airport--not only for their economic benefits but also as a message. The first beneficiaries of the larger runway would be the flight of warplanes that had been dispatched to support the counter-insurgency efforts. Hopefully Caledonia would recognize the seriousness of Avon’s commitment to the island and keep its meddling to a level under the table. If they decided to escalate...Pitt went to pick up the phone that connected him to the Ministry of Defense. Maybe it was time to make sure the Royal Navy’s lone aircraft carrier was ready to sail. Just in case.

[Saint Georgia Island]

Roseport
Capital City of Saint Georgia Island

Princess Emily stepped out of the small private airplane and felt the warm sun on her skin. Overhead there were only a few small clouds, and she had to raise a small, delicate hand above her eyes to block out the light. Waiting for her was a small honor guard of uniformed soldiers, and a few people in business attire. The plane, a loan from the royal family of Avon, had landed on a smaller auxiliary strip adjacent to the main airport, so instead of a big terminal she simply walked onto the tarmac. The first person to step forward was an older man who was remarkably pale for such an environment.

“Princess Emily, welcome to Saint Georgia Island. I am Governor-General Charles Roderick, and I wanted to be the first to greet you.”

“Thank you, Governor.” Emily curtsied, a sign of respect to the representative of His Majesty the King of Avon. They had provided her and her mother with asylum after the revolution, and were distant relatives by an ancient mariage. The governor-general was not her social better, but he was her host. The other person behind Roderick was Chief Executive Andrew Chopal, a native-born resident who led the government of Saint Georgia Island. Not present was any representative from the Caledonian exiles who had made their home on the island. It was these unfortunate people who Princess Emily was here to meet; they had fled their homeland with only what they could bring with them or smuggle out of the country. They had been denounced as traitors, so if they ever returned they would be executed by the new government.

The trio acknowledged the detachment of soldiers standing at attention, allowing them to go to a parade rest. There were six of them: two from the local defense force, two Royal Marines, and two soldiers from the company of paratroopers who had recently arrived.

“I hear you are having some troubles in the hinterlands,” Emily said as she shook one soldier’s hand. The news had carried stories of the guerillas who had begun to wage a campaign from a hidden mountain base, attacking the government. They claimed to want to bring the same revolution that had “liberated” Caledonia to the island.

“We have everything well in hand. I wouldn’t worry about it.” The paratrooper who responded wore an officer’s insignia and the self-assuredness of a veteran. He was a handsome man as well. His nametag only showed his last name: Rogers. Emily hoped he was right.

Seaburg
Port City in Caledonia

General Granger walked around the aircraft lined up alongside the runway. They were new, modern warplanes, purchased with money siphoned off from international economic aid packages. They were flown by pilots who had plenty of training but little combat experience. A few were foreigners, recruited to bolster the ranks of the Caledonian Air Force. They were obvious to pick out, because they showed none of the respect for authority that the Caledonian pilots did. As long as they performed in the skies, they could roll their eyes at him.

“Soon we will embark on our mission of liberation,” Granger exhorted the assembled men. “Saint Georgia Island is the last piece of ancestral Caledonia which has not been returned to our loving embrace. We will show the world our power in one swift action!”

The pilots and ground crews cheered, except for the foreigners who simply looked amused. Let them smirk, Granger thought. Once our own flyers are blooded, we will have no need for them.

Across the city, men and vehicles assembled. Two thousand soldiers, with armored and amphibious vehicles, began to board the transport ships that would traverse the short distance to Saint Georgia Island. Squadrons of fighter and attack aircraft were preparing to load up with munitions and take off to provide support. According to the intelligence gathered by the guerilla fighters on the island, there were only five hundred soldiers on the island and half of those were useless militia. The Avonians had sent a handful of fighters, but they would be totally outnumbered if they even managed to take off. The air force would paralyze the island with airstrikes. As the Caledonian soldiers landed on the beaches, the Marxist guerillas would come down from the mountains.

The princess would be captured and delivered back to Caledonia, and the island would be completely under Caledonian control. Avon would have no chance to do anything until it was too late.

[United Avon]

Roseport
Capital City of Saint Georgia Island

“I’ll tell you what, when they first told us we were shipping out here, I thought we’d done something to really piss somebody off.”

The Avonian pilot, recognizable from the emblem emblazoned on his cap and the patches on the jacket that was hung on the back of the chair, continued to talk to his compatriots as the waitress brought a tray loaded with breakfast food. His voice was boisterous but not too loud, conscious of the other patrons sitting nearby. The commander of this ad-hoc flight group had given them all a stern lecture upon arrival about maintaining positive relations with the locals.

“But this is pretty incredible! Warm but not too bad, some decent sun, and all we have to do is drop a few bombs now and then.” The pilot, a flight lieutenant according to the insignia on his jacket, thanked the server once she was finished. She was pretty. “Everyone back home will be jealous.”

“And they say the Royal Air Service isn’t a vacation.” That line from another one of the pilots got a laugh out of the whole table. Everyone remembered their first days of training, when veteran instructors worked to knock all the fanciful images that the advertisements had conjured out of the heads of the new recruits.

The four Avonian pilots were only a few blocks down from the entrance to the military portion of the airport, eating at a cafe that had been recommended to them by one of the local support personnel. The other two pilots had been unable to join them because they were on standby, which usually meant sitting around the ready room in the base doing nothing. Sometimes it meant going out and dropping a pair of laser-guided bombs onto a target designated by the Royal Marines or the Paras, but those were drops in the bucket. Still, there was no enemy AAA or SAMs, and certainly not a single opposing fighter in the air. There were worse places to be stationed.

The breakfast was good, if expensive. This part of town was on the edge of the tourist-centered portion of Roseport. Everything was pricier, with the expectation that Avonians and others would be willing to hand over the extra for “authentic” island food. The owner, the son of an Avonian settler, had given Flight Lieutenant Clark Anderson and his comrades a discount because of their military status. He wasn’t the first to show an abundance of respect and deference to the military men and women who had arrived from Avon; Saint Georgia Island had transitioned smoothly from colony to the Royal Commonwealth, with only a few blips of trouble on the timeline until recently. Soldiers of the King were still seen as a step above ordinary people.

“Alright, we had best be getting back,” Anderson announced to the others. “It’ll be due time to let Cox and Errol get some leisure in. And you two still need to file your reports from yesterday.” He leveled a playfully accusatory finger at Cassandra Sandringham and Orson Trench, who had sortied out yesterday morning to take out what the boys on the ground had said was a insurgent supply stash. The two pilots rolled their eyes but followed Anderson up from the table and out the door.

---

John Rogers had joined the Royal Army for the same reason many Elyrians joined the Royal Army: it got them out of Elyria. The cold, industrial north of Avon had few career opportunities for those who didn’t take a liking to mining or assembly-line minding, and the last remnants of the old clan structure persisted in a veneration for men who volunteered to show their courage in battle. Ever since the Unification the Royal Army had recruited some of the best units from Elyria - at least, the best according to Elyrians. To be accepted into the ranks of the elite Parachute Regiment was an honor not only to John Rogers himself, but to his whole extended family. He was the third man to earn such a prestigious position: the bar to clear was Arnold Rogers, who had (according to family legend) served in the personal guard unit of King John the Second.

Rogers thought that this assignment might not match up in the eyes of the family back home. Sure, he was responsible for the escort of royalty. But a young princess, without a nation, on what was essentially a sightseeing trip? A far cry from riding alongside John II.

“You’re scheduled to tour the military airbase this afternoon,” the Governor-General’s aide was informing Princess Emily. “And then meet with the expatriate community in the evening after that.”

“Exile.”

The single word was the first surprising thing Rogers had heard all day. The aide’s confusion was obvious.

“Expatriate assumes a voluntary departure from one’s homeland,” Princess Emily said. “These people were forced into exile by the revolutionaries.”

The aide stuttered an apology and tried to get the lecture back onto the rails. Rogers smiled. This could be entertaining after all.

[Neureich am Fischbach]

Konstantin Garamond took a deep breath in order to catch all the sea breeze he could. Happy to have escaped the cold and lingering winter of his homeland, a broad smile spread across his face. Looking out at Roseport and the ocean from the balcony of his hotel room, he felt perfect contentment. This is too good to be true the voice i the back of his head told him. Something will go wrong.

Ignoring the voice of worry, his eyes scanned the city, where apparently there was much ado about something.

[Valkiir]

"Alright listen up." The Platoon leader in charge of the security team Called out her voice echoing in the empty hanger." We are officially guests of the Locals, They have requested we disarm our aircraft, and ourselves when not actively securing either our bivouac, the cargo, or our aircraft."

The Platoon made a few back and forth comments and jokes about taking over the island, or raiding the local brewery." The collection of 20ish year old Aptrgangr commandos seeming to be unconcerned about their unscheduled stop." How long till we can get back in the air?"

"Two, three weeks to have the techs flown in, figure out what broke and get our ride back in an airworthy state." The Lieutenant replied." Until then we are puling guard duty, or on a pass to the local community.

"Eight hour shifts, two at the airfield, two at the warehouse, two at the Bivouac and four on Ready watch."The Lieutenant handed out the days assignments to the groans of those picked for duty, and cheers of the few who were off for the next 24 hours.

"Uniform of the day is Full whites, headgear and radios, no sidearms for off duty personnel, no personal weapons, no holdouts ...I don't want anyone walking around with anything more lethal than a case of halitosis"

Anyone shows up staggering drunk for duty gets an extra shift on duty and looses a months pay." The Platoons Sergeant warned." Last call is six hours before duty...back on base at least two hours before duty. Morning assembly and PT at zero, five, thirty same as everyday.

"First duty, strip the aircraft, inventory and secure all weapons and ammunition and munitions,"The platoon Leader announce sharply bringing the briefing to an end." Cargo is to be inventoried and secured by 14:20 hours Local. Squad leaders see me for specific assignments and special instructions...get to it!"

The thirty six member assault platoon was mostly women with a hand full of men, all wore their white fatigues, beret, and sunglasses, with their boots polished to a shine that would bring a tear to the eye of ay Drill instructor.

All had the same white or Platinum blonde shoulder length braids, pale skin and pink eyes as the rest and any two of the group looked like sisters and brothers. At a glance it was damn near impossible to tell any two apart by intent it seemed.

The lack of identifying marks, or features even went to the nametags, which consisted of the Platoons Regiment, company platoon and a two digit suffix, a second Strip pinned to the Jacket had a nickname handwritten in sharpie on the tape. Dee Dee, El-jay, Mimi, Jaycee, Ell tee, A few seemed to be more imaginative, Kali, Sky, Buster, Hulk, and Butt-towski

When No locals were around their conversation sounded deep guttural slow and a bit slurred, words of Russian, German, English, and other languages not immediately recognizable were mixed together into an almost indecipherable pidgin that was sometimes referred to as Rus, More often referred to as drunken Gibberish by the less polite listener.When locals came about the speech switched to English or anther more convenient language but the thick slightly slurred accent remained,
<--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->
Valkiri city,republic of Valkiir, Office of President John Rhictor-Valkiiri: 09:30 Hours local time
"I apologize Mister Ambassador, Our team had no intention of violating your airspace until the damage to the aircraft became obvious." President Rhictor-Valkiir Spoke politely his accent nearly identical to the man he was speaking with."Our repair team is en route to recover the aircraft but it may take some time to get the aircraft in flight worth condition."

I understand Mister Ambassador." we will do our best to be out of your hair as soon as they can. No one wants foreign commandos loitering around a strategic location.....Extend my regard to your superiors and my thanks for their understanding"

The president hung up, checked his watch ad his schedule Noting the call have been precisely at the appointed hour and lasted the allotted time given to the ambassador by his chief of staff. after jotting a few notes on his pad he looked at the Self defense force Colonel setting by his desk."Any local Intel?"

"No immediate concerns although Satcom is picking up communications chatter in the area that's not normal"Colonel Graves examined his reports on the region." ...we did just burn down a Pretty expensive villa, and blow up five aircraft so it may be in response to our raid on the compound at Point Verde."

"Alright keep an eye on the area, and maybe see if we have a few P-7s that could be retasked into the area." the president picked up his cane stood up slowly and made for the door to attend the first of a dozen meetings for the day.

[United Avon]

"I apologize Mister Ambassador, Our team had no intention of violating your airspace until the damage to the aircraft became obvious." President Rhictor-Valkiir Spoke politely his accent nearly identical to the man he was speaking with."Our repair team is en route to recover the aircraft but it may take some time to get the aircraft in flight worth condition."

I understand Mister Ambassador." we will do our best to be out of your hair as soon as they can. No one wants foreign commandos loitering around a strategic location.....Extend my regard to your superiors and my thanks for their understanding"

Roseport
Capital City of Saint Georgia Island

“So what do you think the deal is with those commandos?” Cassandra Sandringham asked casually as the group of pilots strolled back towards the airbase. “Think it's some sort of advance scout?”

“Not likely,” Orson Trench replied with a derisive snort. “I saw their bird land, that thing looked like it was moments away from shaking itself apart. I bet somebody got a good shot in and no one onboard noticed until it was too late.”

The platoon from Valkiir had been set up in one of the hangars more distant from where the six Tornado strike planes were housed. No obvious security had been posted over the foreign aircraft, but the military police on patrol kept throwing glances in its direction. The airbase security personnel were good but if these commandos were indeed part of some stealth takeover attempt they would have a big advantage over their opposition, at least in the airport. The soldiers themselves were also fascinating, both their gender makeup and their appearance was unlike any sort of elite unit in the Royal Army. If they’d been a bit more approachable then some of the Royal Marines or Paras might have made an attempt to get a date, but as things stood they were left alone to go about whatever their business was.

---

The radar operator at first thought he was just seeing things, a trick played by eyes tired of staring at a boring screen all day. When the third chorus of trilling pings washed over him he began to feel a ice-cold shiver down his spine. It wasn’t a trick, and it wasn’t a system fault.

There were dozens of planes approaching the island. Only military-grade fighter jets could move that quickly.

“We have bogeys at least twenty, no, thirty incoming hostiles!” He shouted the alarm to the room, sending others into a panicked scramble. The warplanes were coming from Caledonia, and they weren’t responding to any communications.

The chief of the watch flipped the plastic cover up off the alarm button and stabbed down with his finger. Air-raid sirens, maintained by unused for decades, began to wail across the city.

[Saint Georgia Island]

Konstantin Garamond took a deep breath in order to catch all the sea breeze he could. Happy to have escaped the cold and lingering winter of his homeland, a broad smile spread across his face. Looking out at Roseport and the ocean from the balcony of his hotel room, he felt perfect contentment. This is too good to be true the voice i the back of his head told him. Something will go wrong.

Ignoring the voice of worry, his eyes scanned the city, where apparently there was much ado about something.

Over Roseport

Konstantin would have just enough time to get a good long breath of sea air before the sky above him exploded in sound. The first flight of Caledonian fighter jets flashed directly over the hotel where he was staying, shattering windows with the concussive force of their jet engines. They arced over the old city and banked sharply to put the radar tower of the recently constructed airport directly in their sights. Inside cockpits, fingers hovered over release buttons until the chime sounded in their ears to inform them that they were at the optimum point. Missiles leapt off of underwing racks and streaked forward, drawing thin white lines of contrail smoke that ended in fireballs.

The radar tower vanished in the first explosion, followed shortly after by several of the hangars on the military side of the airport. Bombs fell from their mountings underneath the fuselages of the next flight, tearing great holes in the runways and destroying more hangars and other facilities. In the brief moment before the next wave of enemy aircraft began their attack runs, the wail of the air raid sirens could be heard.

The first transport helicopters began to appear on the horizon, bearing the first wave of Caledonian soldiers.

On the Streets

The government car had been making slow progress through the narrow streets of the old city of Roseport, where tourists and street peddlers clogged up every available free space. Princess Emily had spent a boredom-filled ride taking in the sights of the old buildings around her and the colorful people on the sidewalks. Her minder, the Paras captain named Rogers, had seemed to become a statue. He sat virtually motionless in another seat, seemingly shut off. She’d asked him earlier if he was bored and he’d replied that serving in the military made him very good at waiting.

She saw the change in the crowd before she understood why it was happening. People were stopping in mid-stride and pointing up into the sky with their mouths agape. Then she heard the rumble of a jet engine passing low overhead. Then the explosion. Captain Rogers was instantly out of his seat, moving to shield Emily’s body with his own. When it was obvious the explosion was distant, he backed off again. His body was now rigid with tension. The driver’s phone rang and he answered, then told the passengers what they already were beginning to understand.

“Caledonians!” He exclaimed. “They’ve begun bombing the city.”

“We need to move,” Rogers announced. He opened the door and stepped out - the car was barely moving so he didn’t stumble. He craned his head to look down the street, and made a face. “The streets are only going to get more crowded. Can you make your way to safety?”

It was addressed to the driver, who nodded.

“Abandon the car. Take anything government-issued. Call the Governor-General and tell him I’ll escort the Princess to a safe location.”

“Where?”

“I’ll contact them when we figure that out,” Rogers replied. He held out a hand towards Princess Emily and looked her dead on. “We’ll need to move quickly.”

Emily took the proffered hand and hurried out of the car, following the Paras captain down the crowded streets through the throngs of panic-stricken people. More explosions could be heard in the distance and the wailing sirens were periodically drowned out by the roar of jet engines overhead.

[Valkiir]

"What the..." Lieutenant Kowen looked up at the sound of an air raid siren. Her hand going toward the bulky briefcase sized military issue satellite phone on her desk.

"Bloody Hell?" Sergeant Kriegen Finished for her one of the few Male Members of the platoon he towered over the petite officer.

"Ell Tee?" Several of he soldiers called out for instructions as the sound of sonic booms began to roll over the island.

"Battle Dress, full kit!" Kowen ordered." Grabbing the local phone to call the Liaison officer they had been assigned for clarification of what was going on."

Soldiers began to rapidly strip out of the stark white uniforms and throw on their camouflage combat BDUs as several of them moved to stand by the doors to the hanger loaded rifles kept out of sight as they scanned the surroundings.The first blasts sent everyone to the ground either shaken off their feet or out of instinctive response.

""were under attack!" An angry commando shouted."These bastards are stabbing us in the back!"

They're attacking the airfield not us." Kowen Shouted in response." Grab everything you can throw in a truck and get ready to move. She pointed to delivery trucks setting outside an air freight hanger." We're taking those three trucks over there?"

"Sky, First squad air defense now!"The SGT Kreigan Yelled as he threw open a long crate holding the platoon heavy weapons a Single nearly obsolete SM-8 launcher and three missiles was the unites entire air defense supply, it had been meant for taking out hostile helicopters not fighter bombers.

"Mister president, we have a slight problem." Kowen announced calmly into her sat phone as more explosions rocked the building"Seems someone want to play rough, we are observing cose in air strikes on local assets, multiple Fast Movers, and I can hear Rotorcraft in the distance. ...No Sir, the transport is still Combat ineffective....our escort aircraft is serviceable at least it was five minutes ago.....

a powerful blast then secondary blasts sounded closer as the Two Tiltrotors simultaneously unfolded in a fiery ball of flame. An infantryman with a SM-8 on his shoulder sprinted for cover away from the Hanger before sending a missile streaking skyward after the attacker who had fired on their transports.

"We just lost all aircraft sir, deliberate action by hostile aircraft........I understand sir....engage only if engaged....., respond to any deliberate attack with due force...further orders to follow....."


"Orders Ma'am?Kriegen Stood waiting for orders as the LT set down her phone

" Krieg, go find me a local officer,make sure they know we aren't hostile." Kowen ordered

"Yes ma'am On it." Krieg took off toward the airfields headquarters still dressed in his "whites" but was wearing his sidearm and had a camouflage poncho in the hand. He moved with the grace and agility of a not particularly graceful charging bull but he covered ground rapidly looking for any local officer he could find.

[Neureich am Fischbach]

The sonic boom caused Konstantin to jump from surprise, an action that almost killed him, as he was leaning on the railing of his balcony. The only thing he could hear was the ringing in his ears. Glass fell down from the upper windows, landing on the awning above the Neureicher's head, but he did not hear it. Dazed and confused, he crouched down and pondered where was safer, the hotel or the balcony. safer from what? As his hearing returned he heard shouting, and sirens, and more explosions. Looking out to sea, he saw the approaching helicopters...

Konstantin scanned the streets again, the crowds were in chaos, a traffic jam had started. He entered his room, and exited it again as he headed for the stairs.

[Valkiir]

TO:the People's Republic of Caledonia
From: Office of the president Republic of Valkiir
Subject: Act of War

With respect, we wish to inform you that earlier today Two of our grounded aircraft operating within all international laws, clearly identified as Military Aircraft, and Displaying all appropriate national Markings were engaged and destroyed by aircraft believed to be operated by your nation. Both aircraft were destroyed by surface to air missiles as part of a larger operation we believe to be a deliberate and orchestrated attack. As we were at the time a neutral party, and present at the location due to a mechanical failure on one of the aircraft we feel that your destruction of our aircraft is well within the definition of act of war.

At this time we do not feel the need to take offensive action against the People's Republic of Caledonia , however we will have extended an offer of assistance to the forces defending the Islands and it's population and have authorized our fores in the region to take action to defend themselves, and aid the local defenders in actions against your forces.

We wish to bring this unfortunate situation to a swift and peaceful conclusion and offer our services as a negotiator in diplomatic talks between belligerent parties. However, due to the careless and indiscriminate targeting of neutral parties we will continue to assist local forces until such time as the Primary parties of the conflict agree to a cease fire, or a military victory over hostile forces has been secured. To thee ens I assure you we will act at all times in the spirit and letter of International Rules of war and expect you to do the same. Any mistreatment of civilians, injured and captured combatants, and prisoners of war will not be tolerated by the Republic and may be grounds for escalation should we discover any acts of abuse, war cries, or crimes against humanity perpetrated by forces in the area against either civilians, prisoners, or belligerent forces of any an all nations.

We are open to diplomatic talks and await any response or reply.
With Respects
President and commander in chief Republic of Valkiir
John Rhictor-Valkiiri

[Neureich am Fischbach]

In the hotel lobby was chaos, some of the guests were panicking, others were angrily demanding answers from the overwhelmed staff. The consensus was that the Caledonians attacked, but what exactly the target was, remained unclear. The staff attempted to provide some updated information, but ended up just repeating whatever rumors they were told. Konstantin stood near a hysterical woman who insisted that the Caledonians hab bombed the city, while agitated man stubbornly insisted they had just attacked military targets. When the woman suggested the man was a spy, other guests soon joined the conflict.

Konstantin eager to leave the lobby, noticed a tv playing across the street, it was already surrounded by pedestrians, but at least the weren't having a row. Without hesitation, he left the hotel and crossed the street. Order was restored in the Hotel as the news was turned out in the lobby, but Konstantin didn't notice. Neither did he notice the small group heading down the sidewalk at an unusual fast pace.

[United Avon]

"Krieg, go find me a local officer,make sure they know we aren't hostile." Kowen ordered

"Yes ma'am On it." Krieg took off toward the airfields headquarters still dressed in his "whites" but was wearing his sidearm and had a camouflage poncho in the hand. He moved with the grace and agility of a not particularly graceful charging bull but he covered ground rapidly looking for any local officer he could find.

The Military Airfield

The military portion of the large airport complex was a scene of total chaos. Fires were raging at dozens of points. Most of the hangars had been collapsed by bombs or missiles. Emergency response teams were outmatched by the sheer volume of emergencies confronting them. Armed soldiers, mostly members of the local defense force, were running frantically to and fro as officers at different parts of the airfield barked contradictory orders to whoever was within earshot. While one group began setting up a heavy machine gun near the entrance, another group of islanders was beginning the process of destroying all sensitive documents and records.

One such Avonian officer, a Major in the uniform of the Saint Georgia’s Own Rifle Regiment, was the first person that Krieg would find in his search. The man was middle-aged and showed a bit of weight. He was very clearly out of his depth and the panic was obvious in his rapid eye movements and jittery hand signals. He was trying to coordinate the teams that were supposed to be putting out the fires, but he could provide little guidance beyond “do whatever you can.”

“You’re one of the foreign lot who had to land, right?” The Major recognized the Krieg, or rather recognized that the very unfamiliar-looking person could only be one of the strangers who had been taking up a pair of hangars. “The Caledonians have bombed the airfield, and there are helicopters coming in. Probably carrying troops to seize the city.”

Konstantin eager to leave the lobby, noticed a tv playing across the street, it was already surrounded by pedestrians, but at least the weren't having a row. Without hesitation, he left the hotel and crossed the street. Order was restored in the Hotel as the news was turned out in the lobby, but Konstantin didn't notice. Neither did he notice the small group heading down the sidewalk at an unusual fast pace.

On the Streets of Roseport

Captain John Rogers shoved aside another blubbering tourist, elbowing his way through the crowd of people filling up the narrow street. Princess Emily followed behind, her smaller frame giving her a chance to slip through spaces created in Rogers’ wake. The two had gotten a few blocks from where they had exited the car. The plan forming in Rogers’ head was to get out of the city somehow. The Caledonians would be searching for the Princess, and it would be easier to hide out in the less-settled strip of land between Roseport and the mountains in the center of the island.

As the going got tougher and tougher, however, Rogers began to re-assess his chances. He could hear the helicopters overhead, most of them headed towards the airport. The city was too dense to land a transport helicopter right among the buildings, so they would find open spaces like parks...like the big one right across the street from Government House. No luck there, then.

In training, Rogers’ instructors had warned him that he had a tendency to get too involved in his thinking, to the detriment of his awareness of the now. In live-fire exercises, he had shown precision and the right mix of tactical thinking and snap reflexes. In command exercises or other situations where the pressure was on but not immediately life-threatening, he could lose track of time, or where he was standing, or what he was doing. It was one reason he’d not yet gotten a command larger than a company.

It was also the reason why the big Para officer didn’t notice Konstantin standing right in his way until the two men had already collided.

[Saint Georgia Island]

TO:the People's Republic of Caledonia
From: Office of the president Republic of Valkiir
Subject: Act of War

With respect, we wish to inform you that earlier today Two of our grounded aircraft operating within all international laws, clearly identified as Military Aircraft, and Displaying all appropriate national Markings were engaged and destroyed by aircraft believed to be operated by your nation. Both aircraft were destroyed by surface to air missiles as part of a larger operation we believe to be a deliberate and orchestrated attack. As we were at the time a neutral party, and present at the location due to a mechanical failure on one of the aircraft we feel that your destruction of our aircraft is well within the definition of act of war.

At this time we do not feel the need to take offensive action against the People's Republic of Caledonia , however we will have extended an offer of assistance to the forces defending the Islands and it's population and have authorized our fores in the region to take action to defend themselves, and aid the local defenders in actions against your forces.

We wish to bring this unfortunate situation to a swift and peaceful conclusion and offer our services as a negotiator in diplomatic talks between belligerent parties. However, due to the careless and indiscriminate targeting of neutral parties we will continue to assist local forces until such time as the Primary parties of the conflict agree to a cease fire, or a military victory over hostile forces has been secured. To thee ens I assure you we will act at all times in the spirit and letter of International Rules of war and expect you to do the same. Any mistreatment of civilians, injured and captured combatants, and prisoners of war will not be tolerated by the Republic and may be grounds for escalation should we discover any acts of abuse, war cries, or crimes against humanity perpetrated by forces in the area against either civilians, prisoners, or belligerent forces of any an all nations.

We are open to diplomatic talks and await any response or reply.
With Respects
President and commander in chief Republic of Valkiir
John Rhictor-Valkiiri

To President Rhictor-Valkiiri of Valkiir
From Marshal Navarro of Caledonia

First allow me to apologize for the destruction of your nation’s property. You must understand that my duty above all is to my people, and it would have been impossible to effectively communicate our intentions to your nation ahead of time so as to avoid this accident without risking the safety and security of the entire operation. Rest assured that we are prepared to compensate you for the destruction of your aircraft.

If your soldiers on Saint Georgia Island present themselves to Caledonian forces, with proper identification, we will work to ensure their safety and arrange their transport off the island, either to your nation or to the mainland to await transportation, as quickly as possible. Should they decline and remain out of communication with our forces, or assist those forces opposing Caledonia in any way, I can make no guarantees of their safety.

As to your offer of mediation, while it is appreciated, this matter is between Caledonia and Avon. Saint Georgia Island was stolen from us centuries ago. I am merely returning it to rightful Caledonian ownership.

Outside Roseport

General Albert Smythe III, commander of Saint Georgia’s Own Rifle Regiment, took an experimental sip of his tea and retreated in the face of the heat. His secretary had let the water boil too long and had been so eager to get him his morning cup that he had neglected to let it steep long enough. He sighed and set the cup back on the desk. His desk was covered in the most recent reports from the frontlines, where his regiment and the reinforcements from Avon were battling against the Marxists. The Paras and the Royal Marines, and their air support, had put the rebels on the backfoot.

Smythe heard the sound of a truck entering the compound that served as field headquarters - an old colonial-era villa repurposed to serve as the nerve center of the anti-guerilla campaign. Smythe would have thought nothing more of it, except for the sudden sound of automatic gunfire that ripped across the courtyard. The general leapt from his seat, surprisingly quick for his age, and rushed to the window. Coming out of the back of the truck was a platoon of men in camouflage fatigues and balaclavas. They carried assault rifles and used them to gun down everyone they encountered as they raced towards the building where Smythe stood.

The general hurried over to where his service revolver - a weapon he hadn’t ever fired in anger, and very rarely fired at all - hung in a holster near his jacket. He fumbled with the strap that kept the weapon from falling out, fingers trembling as he heard gunfire echo from down the hall. He yanked the pistol out just as the door flew in and three masked men burst into the room. Before Smythe had even leveled the barrel of the revolver at the invaders they had filled him full of bullets.

“This is Unit One,” one of the guerillas reported into an older walkie-talkie. “Headquarters is secure.”

The guerillas were coming down from the mountains...

[Valkiir]

“You’re one of the foreign lot who had to land, right?” The Major recognized the Krieg, or rather recognized that the very unfamiliar-looking person could only be one of the strangers who had been taking up a pair of hangars. “The Caledonians have bombed the airfield, and there are helicopters coming in. Probably carrying troops to seize the city.”

"Aye sir, K-12-139R1-G. Master Sergeant....Sgt Krieg will do,.our president has authorized us to take direct military action to assist in your operations." Krieg Looked around at the chaos, and damage.Krieg Spoke quickly and clearly with a good bit of sincere concern.it was obvious from the way he listened, hand to ear, then spoke he might be relaying someone else word." My Commanding officer suggests you Burn this place to the ground with every map and file brunt with it...smash any computers. Send men to set any armories, or fuel stores on fire. grab what you can, the rest.... demo in place."

"Then evacuate to a rally point outside the city to resist the enemy ....we are authorized to assist in anyway we can including communications, forward observation and air strike direction, and special warfare operations."

... He paused and Spoke again still." we volunteer to demo the the Airfield and any militarily valuable assets to slow the use of the airfield by the enemy....if you wish....we have the tools for the job.

Apologies, Major we are Aptrgangr Special Operations Commandos, we specialize in assaulting or destroying critical facilities...so we know a thing or two about what the enemy may be after..... this airfield is gonna get people killed.... if you want to fight for it we'll help, if you want it a pile of burning ruin....we're your best bet.""The last bit seemed to be the Sergeant speaking for himself.

To President Rhictor-Valkiiri of Valkiir
From Marshal Navarro of Caledonia

First allow me to apologize for the destruction of your nation’s property. You must understand that my duty above all is to my people, and it would have been impossible to effectively communicate our intentions to your nation ahead of time so as to avoid this accident without risking the safety and security of the entire operation. Rest assured that we are prepared to compensate you for the destruction of your aircraft.

If your soldiers on Saint Georgia Island present themselves to Caledonian forces, with proper identification, we will work to ensure their safety and arrange their transport off the island, either to your nation or to the mainland to await transportation, as quickly as possible. Should they decline and remain out of communication with our forces, or assist those forces opposing Caledonia in any way, I can make no guarantees of their safety.

As to your offer of mediation, while it is appreciated, this matter is between Caledonia and Avon. Saint Georgia Island was stolen from us centuries ago. I am merely returning it to rightful Caledonian ownership.

To:Marshal Navarro
From President John Rhictor-Valkiiri
Subject: Regrets...and state of conflict
Sir We do not welcome armed struggle, but we do not stand by once we are fired on. Whether intentionally or by accident your forces carelessness, or deliberate actions have made this matter one which Valkiir Is involved in., We strongly suggest a cease fire and diplomatic talks. You aircraft deliberately firing on our aircraft operating in line with internationally accepted protocols without warning or a chance to evacuate safely is an act of war. Use of lethal force and military actions to redress an issue centuries old, is not an acceptable Casus belli...Which makes your agressions unjustifiable and indefensible. In this matter we will assist a nation under attack by unwarranted military actions.At this time we must inform you of our opposition to you unwarranted aggression and inform you of our intent to resist your operations in cooperation with the legal and internationally recognized government of the islands. we will not expand hostilities outside the islands or engage your forces not directly supporting the operations in the islands. We will also pledge to warn your nation forty eight hours in advance if this status should change.

We expect our troops to be treated in accordance with accepted rues and laws, of war and treated as uniformed belligerents...any abuse, or violations of international rules of war wil draw far more severe consequences. Up to and including a direct and unrestrained act of, conventional, war on your mainland. We are at this time adversaries, not enemies. In return we pledge to abide by international accepted "rules of war." concerning civilians, captured, wounded or surrendering combatants.

WE will gladly stand down and remove ourselves from the conflict should you offer a general and all inclusive ceasefire and withdraw to a neutral position on the islands.

With Great regret, But unshakable resolve.

John Rhictor Valkiiri President Republic of Valkiir, Commander in chief Valkiir Armed forces, Colonel Valkiir Self defense forces(territorial), acting as executive Authority Valkiir, Republic of. In accordance with All laws and policies of the republic.

Addendum

I John Rhictor Valkiiri President Republic of Valkiir, Commander in chief Valkiir Armed forces, Colonel Valkiir Self defense forces(territorial and Expeditionary), acting as executive Authority Valkiir, Republic of. In accordance with All laws and policies of the republic. Announce and declare a state of armed conflict now exists Between Republic of Valkiir and forces Invading and assaulting Saint georgia Islands in violation of Internationally accepted law and protocols.

Conditions for the cessation of military action:
1)Complete removal of all hostile non native forces from the Saint Georgia Island
2) Announcement and implementation of a General and all encompassing Cease fire by forces invading Saint Georgia Island
3) direct request fro the Legal and recognized government of Saint Georgia Island

To Leadership of United Avon and Saint Georgia Island
From: John Rhictor Valkiiri President Republic of Valkiir.
Subject: Invasion

I have authorized force on site to assist your nations. We will continue to do so unless requested to cease operations and become a neutral party. Currently on your lovely islands are a number of our Aptrgangr Commandos. The specialize in unconventional warfare and assisting conventional forces in unusual circumstance. I believe this qualifies as unusual circumstances.

I will have my chief of staff establish formal communications with your nation and your military, and allocate air and naval units to assist your defensive operations, if desired.

However at his moment I can not help but feel you may be wondering why we involve ourselves. That answer is complex. War is not an acceptable means of negotiation. Simply put we do not particularly like the idea of using war to settle diplomatic differences. Today after consulting advisors and members of our parliament and senate, and asking our king James Micheal to weigh in we have decided,we chose to make the point here at this time. Untl this is resolved our forces will fight alongside yours, and act under the command of your local Military leadership.

Colonel, John Richtor-Valkiiri President republic Of Valkiir.

[Neureich am Fischbach]

Konstantin didn't know what hit him, he felt himself pushed from the left side immediately followed by a lost of balance. He had fallen before he could even put together what was happening. The idiot that knocked him over was no longer to his left, but appeared to be intent on going on. Anger filled Konstantin, fueled by his wounded pride. He sprang up and made ready to attack Rogers and avenge himself. However, he stopped as he caught a brief glimpse of Rogers gun. Still he gave vent to his rage. "Watch where you are going!" he shouted, drawing the attention of the crowd in front of the tv. It was only then he noticed the woman that the officer had in tow. The two however didn't respond and simply disappeared around the corner. Determined not to let this go, and his curiosity perked, he followed them.

[United Avon]

Konstantin didn't know what hit him, he felt himself pushed from the left side immediately followed by a lost of balance. He had fallen before he could even put together what was happening. The idiot that knocked him over was no longer to his left, but appeared to be intent on going on. Anger filled Konstantin, fueled by his wounded pride. He sprang up and made ready to attack Rogers and avenge himself. However, he stopped as he caught a brief glimpse of Rogers gun. Still he gave vent to his rage. "Watch where you are going!" he shouted, drawing the attention of the crowd in front of the tv. It was only then he noticed the woman that the officer had in tow. The two however didn't respond and simply disappeared around the corner. Determined not to let this go, and his curiosity perked, he followed them.

On the Streets of Roseport

Captain Rogers didn’t even hear the shouting of the man he’d accidentally bowled over. His mind was set on getting himself and Princess Emily out of the city before the Caledonians could put up an airtight cordon. His current plan was to head for the airfield and connect with whatever was left there. They’d likely be headed out of the city as well, to hold out and await the task force that Avon would send to retake the island.

“Captain.” The Princess spoke quietly, but with urgency in her voice. “That gentleman you knocked down is following us.”

Rogers didn’t stop moving, but his pace slowed. The tunnel vision began to subside and he became more aware of his surroundings. He flicked a glance behind him and saw the man, as the princess had said. His mind began to run through possibilities, scenarios, actions and reactions. Could this man be an advance agent? He’d been awfully calm while everyone else was running wild with panic. And he’d been in perfect position to impede Rogers’ path out of the city…

His mind was made up. “When I stop, keep walking,” he told Princess Emily. “But don’t walk too far.” Making sure that Konstantin was still following them as they turned a corner, he suddenly turned in place and shoved Konstantin against the wall, jabbing his service pistol into the man’s gut.

“I think that’s far enough,” he said in a low voice. “Who are you? Why are you following us?”

"Aye sir, K-12-139R1-G. Master Sergeant....Sgt Krieg will do,.our president has authorized us to take direct military action to assist in your operations." Krieg Looked around at the chaos, and damage.Krieg Spoke quickly and clearly with a good bit of sincere concern.it was obvious from the way he listened, hand to ear, then spoke he might be relaying someone else word." My Commanding officer suggests you Burn this place to the ground with every map and file brunt with it...smash any computers. Send men to set any armories, or fuel stores on fire. grab what you can, the rest.... demo in place."

"Then evacuate to a rally point outside the city to resist the enemy ....we are authorized to assist in anyway we can including communications, forward observation and air strike direction, and special warfare operations."

... He paused and Spoke again still." we volunteer to demo the the Airfield and any militarily valuable assets to slow the use of the airfield by the enemy....if you wish....we have the tools for the job.

Apologies, Major we are Aptrgangr Special Operations Commandos, we specialize in assaulting or destroying critical facilities...so we know a thing or two about what the enemy may be after..... this airfield is gonna get people killed.... if you want to fight for it we'll help, if you want it a pile of burning ruin....we're your best bet.""The last bit seemed to be the Sergeant speaking for himself.

At the Airport

The Major, out of his depth in the chaos of a true combat situation, simply nodded. “We’re starting to destroy all the fuel reserves and whatnot. But it will take time.”

The sound of helicopter rotors got louder. A group of squat transport aircraft began to descend, aiming for a large open space near the perimeter of the military airfield.

“I don’t have the men to defend the whole line,” the Major stammered out. “If you’re as good as you say, help keep the Caledonians back until we can destroy everything.”

Camouflage-clad soldiers began to spill out of the helicopters. The handful of men from the Saint Georgia Island Rifles not engaged in firefighting or strategic destruction began to fire on them from improvised cover, crouching behind jet wash barriers or overturned vehicles. They were men inexperienced in war, and their aim was spotty. The Caledonian soldiers advanced with precision and skill, leapfrogging forward and keeping the Saint Georgians hunkered down behind their cover with suppressing fire.

To Leadership of United Avon and Saint Georgia Island
From: John Rhictor Valkiiri President Republic of Valkiir.
Subject: Invasion

I have authorized force on site to assist your nations. We will continue to do so unless requested to cease operations and become a neutral party. Currently on your lovely islands are a number of our Aptrgangr Commandos. The specialize in unconventional warfare and assisting conventional forces in unusual circumstance. I believe this qualifies as unusual circumstances.

I will have my chief of staff establish formal communications with your nation and your military, and allocate air and naval units to assist your defensive operations, if desired.

However at his moment I can not help but feel you may be wondering why we involve ourselves. That answer is complex. War is not an acceptable means of negotiation. Simply put we do not particularly like the idea of using war to settle diplomatic differences. Today after consulting advisors and members of our parliament and senate, and asking our king James Micheal to weigh in we have decided,we chose to make the point here at this time. Untl this is resolved our forces will fight alongside yours, and act under the command of your local Military leadership.

Colonel, John Richtor-Valkiiri President republic Of Valkiir.

Galion, Capital of the United Kingdom of Avon

“Gentlemen, it appears we are at war.”

The Minister of War said these words with all the gravity they deserved. The assembled members of the government and military nodded gravely. The news from Saint Georgia Island, what little of it there was, plainly showed that Caledonia intended to seize the island by force and present the United Kingdom with a fait accompli. They had succeeded in catching the Avonian government off guard, too distracted with the guerilla war in the mountains to notice the preparations across the water.

“We are assembling a task force to retake the island,” the Minister of War explained. “Centered around our aircraft carrier and containing a force of Royal Marines and other units sufficient to retake the island. But this will take time. Time the Caledonians will use to entrench.”

The Foreign Minister rose to speak. “We have received a message from Valkiir. Their special forces unit, which had to make an emergency landing on the island due to aircraft trouble, appears to have been ordered to cooperate with our forces. This is an unexpected development, but a welcome one.”

The Minister of War then began to elaborate on the plans for the task force’s sailing to Saint Georgia Island and retaking it. The Royal Navy was not the world-striding colossus that it had been in previous centuries, but it was still a formidable force. The Royal Marines were among the best amphibious specialists in the world. The island would be retaken; the question was how hard of a battle it would be.

[Valkiir]

At the Airport

The Major, out of his depth in the chaos of a true combat situation, simply nodded. “We’re starting to destroy all the fuel reserves and whatnot. But it will take time.”

The sound of helicopter rotors got louder. A group of squat transport aircraft began to descend, aiming for a large open space near the perimeter of the military airfield.

“I don’t have the men to defend the whole line,” the Major stammered out. “If you’re as good as you say, help keep the Caledonians back until we can destroy everything.”

Camouflage-clad soldiers began to spill out of the helicopters. The handful of men from the Saint Georgia Island Rifles not engaged in firefighting or strategic destruction began to fire on them from improvised cover, crouching behind jet wash barriers or overturned vehicles. They were men inexperienced in war, and their aim was spotty. The Caledonian soldiers advanced with precision and skill, leapfrogging forward and keeping the Saint Georgians hunkered down behind their cover with suppressing fire.

The Aprtrangr Moved quickly now clad in standard camo and lacking their white hair and other bits of strangeness. Instead they now acted like well trained soldiers moving quickly from cover to cover, tossig smoke grenades to cover their movement and firing short sharp bursts from their automatic weapons anytime an enemy popped up to fire on them. Each soldier carried a grenade launcher under the barrel of his rifle, and put it to good use, disposable rockets carried by the Commandos were aimed at enemy helicopters that came too close or attempted a landing within line of sight.

Their light machine guns added to the interlocked fire suppressing enemy troops who tried to mass to continue their assault. and block lines of approach to the Valkiir soldiers positions. once a base of fire was established and defensive positions secured, several fire teams quickly detached and began to maneuver through burning debris, around buildings, and into ditches angling to flank the Invaders. Once in a suitable position they opened fire with their weapons and threw grenades with reckless abandon shouting and cursing and trying to make is seem as if there were dozens men not separate teams of four.

Galion, Capital of the United Kingdom of Avon

“Gentlemen, it appears we are at war.”

The Minister of War said these words with all the gravity they deserved. The assembled members of the government and military nodded gravely. The news from Saint Georgia Island, what little of it there was, plainly showed that Caledonia intended to seize the island by force and present the United Kingdom with a fait accompli. They had succeeded in catching the Avonian government off guard, too distracted with the guerilla war in the mountains to notice the preparations across the water.

“We are assembling a task force to retake the island,” the Minister of War explained. “Centered around our aircraft carrier and containing a force of Royal Marines and other units sufficient to retake the island. But this will take time. Time the Caledonians will use to entrench.”

The Foreign Minister rose to speak. “We have received a message from Valkiir. Their special forces unit, which had to make an emergency landing on the island due to aircraft trouble, appears to have been ordered to cooperate with our forces. This is an unexpected development, but a welcome one.”

The Minister of War then began to elaborate on the plans for the task force’s sailing to Saint Georgia Island and retaking it. The Royal Navy was not the world-striding colossus that it had been in previous centuries, but it was still a formidable force. The Royal Marines were among the best amphibious specialists in the world. The island would be retaken; the question was how hard of a battle it would be.

The Battleship leviathan Began to make steam, its massive propeller now driven by nuclear reactors not oil fired turbines the Massive vessel served as a mobile command and control base with communications satellite uplinks, and half a dozen helicopters berth on the modified rear deck. Around the Battleship two carriers HMS Daring, and HMS Dauntless, took up positions several miles away smaller than supercarriers they carried vertical take off fighters and strike aircraft.

Miles inland crews were roused from sleep by a klaxon and scramble orders their lumbering bombers setting on the runway ready to go. loaded with high explosives and fitted with additional ordnance on wing hardpoints. Unlike their "Black Dawn" counterparts they were not armed for doomsday, they were ready to respond to conventional military aggression against allies and territories anywhere on the planet.


"Anyone know where we're going?" The copilot of the second aircraft in line asked as she snapped her restraints in place.


"Nowhere nice" The pilot grumbled and began his abbreviated preflight checklist. He kept his comment short and motioned for the copilot to attend to her station. the urgency wasn't as high as he Backdawn bombers trying to get off the ground before there world exploded in nuclear fire but a minute wasted in chatting was a minute some poor ground pounder might not have.

[Neureich am Fischbach]

Konstantin's tradecraft was still that of a novice, so he was outmatched when the armed veteran turned on him. For a brief second he couldn't answer, he couldn't think, all he could do is stare back at the Captain and his service weapon. A couple of deep breaths and he began to get a grip in himself. "I am Konstantin Garamond, from Neureich" he said in his New Kentish accent. "I am student on holiday here." As he spoke his confidence grew. "Who are you and what are you doing?" he asked attempting to exert control over the situation, despite his helplessness. "Where are you taking the lady?"

[United Avon]

The Aprtrangr Moved quickly now clad in standard camo and lacking their white hair and other bits of strangeness. Instead they now acted like well trained soldiers moving quickly from cover to cover, tossig smoke grenades to cover their movement and firing short sharp bursts from their automatic weapons anytime an enemy popped up to fire on them. Each soldier carried a grenade launcher under the barrel of his rifle, and put it to good use, disposable rockets carried by the Commandos were aimed at enemy helicopters that came too close or attempted a landing within line of sight.

Their light machine guns added to the interlocked fire suppressing enemy troops who tried to mass to continue their assault. and block lines of approach to the Valkiir soldiers positions. once a base of fire was established and defensive positions secured, several fire teams quickly detached and began to maneuver through burning debris, around buildings, and into ditches angling to flank the Invaders. Once in a suitable position they opened fire with their weapons and threw grenades with reckless abandon shouting and cursing and trying to make is seem as if there were dozens men not separate teams of four.

The Airport

The appearance of the Aprtrangr halted the tide of the Caledonian advance. The enemy soldiers were unprepared to face a coordinated, spirited defense and hunkered down behind whatever cover they could find, waiting for someone to tell them what to do in the face of this new threat. The Caledonian officers, no more prepared than their men, simply instructed them to keep firing and try to advance where they could. They got on the radio and contacted their superiors, who ordered more men to the airport and routed warplanes to strike the defiant defenders from the air. A pair of jet fighters swooped over the perimeter of the airfield, dropping unguided bombs to try and dislodge the defenders.

A Saint Georgia Rifles officer rushed from his place on the line and found the nearest Valkiiri commando. “The Major says they’ve ruined everything they can,” he shouted over the din. “And there’s more coming from the other side! Orders are to withdraw. There’s a base on the edge of the city where we’re going to try and rally. Follow us and we’ll show you the way.”

Konstantin's tradecraft was still that of a novice, so he was outmatched when the armed veteran turned on him. For a brief second he couldn't answer, he couldn't think, all he could do is stare back at the Captain and his service weapon. A couple of deep breaths and he began to get a grip in himself. "I am Konstantin Garamond, from Neureich" he said in his New Kentish accent. "I am student on holiday here." As he spoke his confidence grew. "Who are you and what are you doing?" he asked attempting to exert control over the situation, despite his helplessness. "Where are you taking the lady?"

On the Streets of Roseport

The man’s English was good, accented but clearly a language he had spent much of his life speaking. And the accent sounded legitimate, not something put on by a Caledonian agent to throw off the scent. And the man’s name...Captain Steven Rogers recognized it as belonging to someone with some power and influence in Neureich. He couldn’t quite put his finger on the specifics, but it didn’t matter. A new plan was forming.

“I’m Captain Steven Rogers,” he explained, releasing his iron grip on Konstantin and holstering his weapon. “Parachute Regiment, Royal Army of Avon. Sorry about all that. I’m supposed to be getting this VIP out of the city.” He nodded back to where Princess Emily, who had walked up to join the two men once it was clear there would be no violence, was standing. She inclined her own head in greeting to Konstantin. “She’ll be a prime target for the Caledonians who are invading. You said you were from Neureich. Does your nation have a consulate here in Roseport? Somewhere she could shelter?”

As if to emphasize the seriousness of the whole affair, a pair of Caledonian jets shot overhead, the roar of their engines echoing down the narrow streets below. Gunfire could be heard in the distance, the rapid chatter of automatic weapons like popcorn in a microwave on overdrive. Rogers ached to be back with his unit, fighting, but he had his own mission to see through.

Government House

The Caledonians had tasked their most elite commandos with assaulting the seat of government on Saint Georgia Island. An entire battalion of Rangers inserted by helicopter and laid siege, surrounding the old colonial villa and exchanging fire with the handful of soldiers stationed there as guards. The Avonians and Saint Georgians acquitted themselves well, but there were simply too few of them and too many of the enemy. One by one the soldiers fell, dead or too wounded to keep firing. Government workers took up their arms and fought the invaders, but it wasn’t enough.

“Government House!” A Caledonian officer bellowed through a loudspeaker. “Surrender now! We have landed tanks and they will be here in moments! Surrender now or be buried in the rubble!”

Inside Government House, the Governor-General looked to his impromptu war cabinet - the commanding officers of the Royal Marine and Para contingents, and the local commander of the Saint Georgia Rifles. Their faces all showed that they understood the reality of their situation. Their decision had been made for them.

“We were able to send a message back home before they blasted our communications,” the Governor-General said. “Home knows what’s happening. These Caledonians won’t be staying here long.” He straightened and fixed the cuffs of his shirt. “Well, gentlemen, it’s time to go put the best face on our capitulation here.”

Vermillion, Major Port City in Avon

The orders had flashed down from the Admiralty: prepare the Sovereign for sail at once. The H.M.S. Sovereign was the Royal Navy’s sole remaining aircraft carrier, and it had just returned from exercises on the open seas. Some of its systems had been disassembled for maintenance or replacement and had to be hurriedly put back together. Sailors and pilots who had rushed off the ship to take their shore leave cursed the Admiralty, the Navy, and the Caledonians for interrupting their time with loved ones or their carousing in the many bars and other establishments of Vermillion.

[Neureich am Fischbach]

Konstantin straighten his clothes and then casually replied "Of course." He offered his hand, first to the mysterious lady and then to her guard. "Have not actually been to the consulate yet, but I know it is a little bit north of the city center." The young man looked around to get his bearings. "That way!" he pointed. "The street name is Wirbelshire or something like that, and we better hurray."

[Valkiir]

The Airport
The appearance of the Aprtrangr halted the tide of the Caledonian advance. The enemy soldiers were unprepared to face a coordinated, spirited defense and hunkered down behind whatever cover they could find, waiting for someone to tell them what to do in the face of this new threat. The Caledonian officers, no more prepared than their men, simply instructed them to keep firing and try to advance where they could. They got on the radio and contacted their superiors, who ordered more men to the airport and routed warplanes to strike the defiant defenders from the air. A pair of jet fighters swooped over the perimeter of the airfield, dropping unguided bombs to try and dislodge the defenders.

A Saint Georgia Rifles officer rushed from his place on the line and found the nearest Valkiiri commando. “The Major says they’ve ruined everything they can,” he shouted over the din. “And there’s more coming from the other side! Orders are to withdraw. There’s a base on the edge of the city where we’re going to try and rally. Follow us and we’ll show you the way.”

"Aw, we were just getting warmed up." Lieutenant Kowen her tone was more relieved than she let on as she was brushing the dust from the bombs and smearing blood from a gash in her forehead." Lead the way Sir we'll keep up."

"allright fall back by sections. suppression fire on three, displace fifty meters."... her instructions interrupted by a fighter roaring in low on another attack run." Kass If you don't mind..... kill that bastard!" She motioned to the soldier armed with the Shoulder fired SAM. She joined the Saint Georgia Rifles Officer in redeploying."

A determined looking soldier stood up tracked the departing aircraft exposing himself to fairly significant fire to do so fired sending a missile ripping after the fighter then hit the deck as the enemy focused on his position. the missile was almost obsolete by modern standards but with a clear lock on the exhaust of a low flying fighter unaware of its existence, the missile was a deadly threat.

The Commandos fell back in quick moves moving from cover to cover and laying down fire to support the next group to fall back. More than once they halted their retreat to launch a short counter assault to punish a group of over eager pursuers. Kowen kept the officer close coordinating her troops with rapid orders in Russ and gestures when needed. At one point as she reloaded and waited for a fire team to deal with several unfortunate enemy soldiers who got in their way she looked at her Liaison and asked rather matter of factly. "If I might be so bold Sir...who the hell are these guys?"

[United Avon]

Konstantin straighten his clothes and then casually replied "Of course." He offered his hand, first to the mysterious lady and then to her guard. "Have not actually been to the consulate yet, but I know it is a little bit north of the city center." The young man looked around to get his bearings. "That way!" he pointed. "The street name is Wirbelshire or something like that, and we better hurray."

Streets of Roseport

Captain Rogers nodded intently. “Alright, Konstantin. Lead the way.” As they moved through the streets, the congestion of the crowds began to clear up. Most people were taking shelter inside whatever buildings had open doors to rush through. Automatic gunfire could be heard in the distance.

“We should hurry,” Rogers suggested urgently to Konstantin. “The longer we’re out on these streets, the more we’ll stand out.”

A few blocks away, a group of Caledonian soldiers gathered around a commandeered police car. The car’s former occupants and users lay dead, shot down in the streets in an ambush. After a moment of familiarizing themselves with the buttons on the dashboard, they were able to activate the crowd-control loudspeakers mounted on top near the lights.

“People of Saint Georgia Island,” they began to broadcast, loud enough to be heard faintly by Captain Rogers, Princess Emily, and Konstantin. “This the People’s Army of Caledonia. Your Governor-General has surrendered. All defenders are ordered to lay down weapons. Surrender yourselves to the closest Caledonian soldier and you will not be harmed.”

A determined looking soldier stood up tracked the departing aircraft exposing himself to fairly significant fire to do so fired sending a missile ripping after the fighter then hit the deck as the enemy focused on his position. the missile was almost obsolete by modern standards but with a clear lock on the exhaust of a low flying fighter unaware of its existence, the missile was a deadly threat.

The Commandos fell back in quick moves moving from cover to cover and laying down fire to support the next group to fall back. More than once they halted their retreat to launch a short counter assault to punish a group of over eager pursuers. Kowen kept the officer close coordinating her troops with rapid orders in Russ and gestures when needed. At one point as she reloaded and waited for a fire team to deal with several unfortunate enemy soldiers who got in their way she looked at her Liaison and asked rather matter of factly. "If I might be so bold Sir...who the hell are these guys?"

Near the Airport

The Caledonian fighter wasn’t aware of the missile on its tail until it was too late. The rocket detonated near the tailpipe and sent the jet into a death spiral. It fell out of sight, and then moments later a plume of fiery smoke bloomed in the distance. A few of the local riflemen raised a short-lived cheer as they fell back. They attempted to model the example of the Valkiiri soldiers, drawing some courage from their discipline and expertise. Eventually the surviving Saint Georgians and the Valkiiri had withdrawn from the airbase entirely, regrouping in a portion of the city that the Caledonians hadn’t advanced to yet.

“Caledonians,” the Saint Georgian officer said in reply to Kowen’s question. “Across the sea. Had a revolution a while back, new top man had been making some big statements lately about coming over here and taking this place back. Thought it was just hot air.” The officer looked back towards the airport, where smoke was rising from destroyed buildings. “Guess he had some bite to his bark.”

Another Saint Georgia Rifles soldier came running to where the foreign commandos and the officer were hunkered. He was obviously exhausted by the effort. “Major Albonsen sends his thanks for your help,” the man said between gasps for air. “Says that the guerillas are coming down from the mountain side of the city.”

“Local Marxist types,” the liaison officer explained. “Been a pain in the rear for a few months. Probably working directly with the Caledonians.”

“The Governor-General has surrendered,” the runner informed them. “But word from the radio station is that word got back to the home island about the invasion. So the Major figures we shouldn’t just sit around and give up.” The liaison officer nodded resolutely. “He wants to rally whoever’s left and try and break out for the mountains to hold out until the cavalry comes.”

---

OFFICIAL STATEMENT
REGARDING THE SITUATION ON SAINT GEORGIA ISLAND
FROM THE OFFICE OF THE PRIME MINISTER OF HIS MAJESTY’S GOVERNMENT

THIS morning, forces of the so-called “People’s Republic” of Caledonia launched an unprovoked invasion of Saint Georgia Island, a Dominion of the United Kingdom of Avon and a member of the Royal Commonwealth. This invasion, launched without any formal declaration of war, comes without any pretense at using diplomacy to peacefully resolve whatever grievances Caledonia claims to hold against Saint Georgia Island or Avon.

Shortly after the news of the invasion was received, a special session of Parliament voted unanimously to declare war on Caledonia. The various branches of the Avonian military are mobilizing now to retake Saint Georgia Island and thwart Caledonia’s aspirations of regional domination. We call on all foes of aggression and all supporters of international law to rally with us in defense of our sovereign territory, and to condemn Caledonia’s unlawful and warmongering actions.

In the name of his Majesty the King of Lorain and Elyria in Union, I do hereby issue the above as a proclamation of His Majesty’s Government.

Richard Pitt
Prime Minister

[Het Verenigde Bataafse Koninkrijk]

TO THE MINISTRY OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS OF UNITED AVON

---

After recently being informed of the sudden and unjust Caledonian invasion of Saint Georgia Island, a member of your nation's Royal Commonwealth, and hearing your call for allies to help liberate the island, we have decided to assist you in doing so. We propose to send a small fleet of warships composed of: two De Zeven Provinciën-class frigates which will mostly be utilized in sending ammunitions or food supplies to allied forces, the deployment of Apache Attack Helicopters whenever close air support is requested and the deployment of any combat units if needed. Along with Caquetio Squadron, compromising out of six state of the art F-22 Raptors, who will primarily engage hostile enemy fighters in order to gain air superiority and also to carry out airstrikes on the Caledonian military. We hope our military contribution will be sufficient to the noble cause of liberating Saint Georgia Island.

Sincerely,
Theo Blokhuis, Minister of Foreign Affairs

[Het Verenigde Bataafse Koninkrijk]

"Warlord, this is Caquetio Squadron, checking in with you. We're a flight of six F-22's approaching Saint Georgia Island. 6 AIM-120 AMRAAM's, 500 rounds for this mission. Ready for combat, over." Caquetio One said over the radio, before awaiting a response from Warlord Actual. Their objective was to seize air superiority over the capital, Roseport, in order to delay the Caledonian advance and to allow friendlies to perform tactical CAS while the remaining allied forces on the island prepared to make their last stand. Until now, Caquetio Squadron has never been deployed in any real combat situation, they only did routine patrol missions and participate in war simulations and occasionally did combat drills, but this would be their chance to prove themselves in real air warfare. The squadron's latest addition to the team was Caquetio Six, a relatively young pilot and one who often disobeys orders. He's prone to perform dangerous moves in the air and often puts himself at risk, if anything Caquetio One had to keep an eye on him. As squadron leader, the wellbeing and the lives of your teammates are your responsibility. Who thought it was a good idea to put that reckless boy in a multi-million dollar aircraft? he thought to himself, his inner thoughts were interrupted by the voice of Warlord Actual which sounded over the radio.
"Affirmative. All Caquetio aircraft, report in."
"Caquetio Two on standby!" "Caquetio Three through Five on standby." "Caquetio Six standing by and ready to kick ass!" "Caquetio One on standby. Saint Georgia at vector 200, 10 kilometers, ETA 5 minutes."
"Warlord solied copies all. Good luck out there and make sure you all come back in one piece,"

[Valkiir]

Near the Airport

The Caledonian fighter wasn’t aware of the missile on its tail until it was too late. The rocket detonated near the tailpipe and sent the jet into a death spiral. It fell out of sight, and then moments later a plume of fiery smoke bloomed in the distance. A few of the local riflemen raised a short-lived cheer as they fell back. They attempted to model the example of the Valkiiri soldiers, drawing some courage from their discipline and expertise. Eventually the surviving Saint Georgians and the Valkiiri had withdrawn from the airbase entirely, regrouping in a portion of the city that the Caledonians hadn’t advanced to yet.

“Caledonians,” the Saint Georgian officer said in reply to Kowen’s question. “Across the sea. Had a revolution a while back, new top man had been making some big statements lately about coming over here and taking this place back. Thought it was just hot air.” The officer looked back towards the airport, where smoke was rising from destroyed buildings. “Guess he had some bite to his bark.”

Another Saint Georgia Rifles soldier came running to where the foreign commandos and the officer were hunkered. He was obviously exhausted by the effort. “Major Albonsen sends his thanks for your help,” the man said between gasps for air. “Says that the guerillas are coming down from the mountain side of the city.”

“Local Marxist types,” the liaison officer explained. “Been a pain in the rear for a few months. Probably working directly with the Caledonians.”

“The Governor-General has surrendered,” the runner informed them. “But word from the radio station is that word got back to the home island about the invasion. So the Major figures we shouldn’t just sit around and give up.” The liaison officer nodded resolutely. “He wants to rally whoever’s left and try and break out for the mountains to hold out until the cavalry comes.”

"well this is a fine mess." Kowen Sighed and rubbed her forehead." Get me a head count, and weapons situation." She spoke to her Platoon Sergeant but seemed to leave it open to everyone in earshot. Checking her map and looking at the trails of smoke coming up around them and listen to the sounds of gunfire. "We need a safe path out of here...
She turned to the Georgian officer." Fortunately we have a bt of training in supporting guerilla operations...its not our specialty but we can handle it. If you can spare me a couple of your men as guides I can do some hit and run to slow down pursuit a bit....we have about a day before we can expect any serious air strikes, maybe a week before Valkiir can get an amphibious force and carriers in position ...that's if they go with a fast response plan."

---

(Image)
OFFICIAL STATEMENT
REGARDING THE SITUATION ON SAINT GEORGIA ISLAND
FROM THE OFFICE OF THE PRIME MINISTER OF HIS MAJESTY’S GOVERNMENT

THIS morning, forces of the so-called “People’s Republic” of Caledonia launched an unprovoked invasion of Saint Georgia Island, a Dominion of the United Kingdom of Avon and a member of the Royal Commonwealth. This invasion, launched without any formal declaration of war, comes without any pretense at using diplomacy to peacefully resolve whatever grievances Caledonia claims to hold against Saint Georgia Island or Avon.

Shortly after the news of the invasion was received, a special session of Parliament voted unanimously to declare war on Caledonia. The various branches of the Avonian military are mobilizing now to retake Saint Georgia Island and thwart Caledonia’s aspirations of regional domination. We call on all foes of aggression and all supporters of international law to rally with us in defense of our sovereign territory, and to condemn Caledonia’s unlawful and warmongering actions.

In the name of his Majesty the King of Lorain and Elyria in Union, I do hereby issue the above as a proclamation of His Majesty’s Government.

Richard Pitt
Prime Minister

Tpo: Government and Leadership of HIS MAJESTY’S GOVERNMENT the United Kingdom of Avon. Valkiir has taken notice of the situation. And due to the presence of Valkiiri Citizens and interests in the region The Republic of Valkiir feels it our duty to assist in the defense of your rightful and legal territories and Citizens. Our forces will provide tactical, strategic and logistical aid in any manner possible. As required by our policies we formally warn and advise any vessel or aircraft supporting, operating in cooperation, or under the flag of Hostile Belligerents that they are subject to immediate attack and destruction should they enter the combat area.

Any and all hostile belligerents who wish to surrender, or remove themselves from the hostilities, may signal Valkiiri forces of their intent to surrender or exit the conflict area for neutral territory. All such forces will be granted safe passage on the condition they take no further part in hostilities.

SHould the belligerent parties wish to enter into diplomatic talks to end this conflict, The Republic is more than willing to act as host for all such talks.

We urge all involved to treat this matter most seriously and with great consideration of the lives at risk. WE do not relish war, we do not make war gladly, but we are well verse in the ways of war and do not hesitate when the situation calls for strong and decisive action. If you wish war, if you seek conflict, then let the blood shed be on your hands, and the consequences be on your heads.

BY ORDER OF
John Rhictor-Valkiiri, president
with unanimous support of
James Michael, King Bruce VII, Protector of the Republic.
King Olivia, fifty third King In yellow on Behalf of The Province of Marburgh
Alexandru Cernat, Secretary General/Governor General Eastern Wallachia
Overseer General Cerra, Dokek Enclaves
Sara Wu, Prime Minister of the Republic
Marshal Johnathan Graves, Chief of Staff Valkiir Self Defense Forces