GWOTC: The New Order/The Last War (Parts 1 and 2; IC)

[Bala Mantre]

"SHIT BRACE!" the screams of the incoming shells grew louder followed by an explosion on the back tower and Turret 1. The Captain turned and looked at his SIC. "what was hit?" The second looked at the screen in front of him. "long Range comms sir, they are destroyed, Gun 1 was hit but still Operational." The captain growled. "Fuck....Right. Patch me through to the Gunners." He was handed a phone which had direct contact with the main gun batteries. "Gun Crews 1, 3, and 5; Target their Bridge. Gun Crew 2 and 4; Hit those cannons. Railgun; on my signal, drill through the back. I want that thing dead in the water." A reply of affirmative came from multiple voices "Right. Hold steady....wait for it.... the colossal ships grew closer, more the Wurmskrut then the Bismarck. However the Germanic forces had one thing: A plan. "HOLD" they grew closer, finally the captain grabbed the wheel and lurched it right. The massive ship moved right, a move not expected by their enemies. Like a bull-fighter and his bull, they passed. They Captain yelled with the ferocity of a lion. "NOW" and the guns of the Ship roared to life

OOC: For disclosure, they are not as close as i made it seem, they have quite the distance between them, horizontal wise. Also the guns are stacked on top of each-other. 1 over 2, 3 over 4, and 5 under the railgun.

A new nation appears over the horizon named Bala Mantre. Found quite recently but allied to technilogically advanced civilizations it is up to date and even better than most.

[Negena]

The South Acren Coast

The sea, cold and dark, and home to many hideous things suddenly broke and parted as Marshall Markus Dorning simply walked onto the rocky shore. The Negenan Destroyer had dropped him off several miles off the coast. "Damaged navigation equipment" the captain had told a particularly irate Acrenese Official on the radio. The ship was already several leagues away, heading back to Negena.

Dorning had considered that the Acrenese were aware that the Kaiser was not safe. Perhaps they even knew assassins were coming. But they were not aware that the most efficient killer had just stepped onto their land to take Richton's soul. None of it mattered. If they slept unknowing, all the better. If not, it didn't matter how many turncoats he had to slaughter before he reached the Kaiser.

And he WILL reach him.

Dorning's armor, parts of it fused to his cybernetic body, was unpenetrable by cannon fire. He had personally survived a RAKA strike on his position in the wayback, and he was immune to all toxins, agents and chemicals that could fielded to incapacitate a lesser being. Weapons built into his body meant he had no need to carry a gun but he still carried his personal sidearm, a .45 Colt High Pressure Magnum Revolver.

His mind was clear, only the mission dominated his thoughts. Get Richton

A South Acrenese soldier on the road above the rocky beach suddenly turned to see Dorning's hulking form walk up the crags.

"Hallo Du! Lege deine Hände hinter deinen Kopf und gehe auf mich zu!"

Dorning paused, then looked up. The maggots presence was so insignificant he hadn't noticed him.

"Gaan weg, seun." he growled.

The Soldier raised his rifle.

"Verdammt! Afrikaaner! Die Negen-"

He did not finish. Dorning fired a hook line that pierced the soldier's head. With an effortless swing, Dorning flung the body out into the sea. The sharks would take care of the rest. And if not...he would be far away by then.

Dorning continued on his way without hurry.

The Wraith of the Order had come to South Acren...

[South Acren]

Eagles Nest, Unknown SA
"Delta, where are we world wise?" the green AI appeared on the left corner in his helmet's display. The AI had a hint of concern in its voice but that is normal. "Well Erik, the Order doesn't like you or SA at all if thats what your asking. You have a bounty alone of 100,000 reichmarcks. Either way, i got word from The Bismarck, they are engaging a Negenan Ship. Possibly the Wurmskrut. They have the assistance of a Ithallian Carrier but there is no telling if they can survive those guns. As for the rest, everyone is silent. Draosian forces are assisting in the destruction of the New Order Forces in the Philippines but there's no telling if the peace will last. As for SR....they are silent as well. No hints or comms or anything. We are alone for now." Erik nodded and thought for a second. "Alright, get me comms with Ithallian leadership....if there is any left. Scan the ocean and Dyllonian for any sign of Ithallian radio frequency's. Also try and phone SR. We need to talk." The green soldier AI saluted and disappeared

[South Raznakova]

It was a sunny day in Moscow, which was quite rare. The city was bustling with activity as usual. As one of the the only countries not under New Order rule, life went on as usual, however, Vodovenko still had to deal with the problems of the outside world. His agents had reached out to Jon Neddard, but as expected, no response. Another message would be dispatched soon, asking for a meeting. However, there were other matters that needed to be addressed. SR forces in Dyllonia had been engaged in a battle with rebel forces for over 4 hours now and SA had defected as was currently involved in a naval battle with the Negenan navy. The SVR had also received reports that a Negenan assassin had arrived in SA, however, Vodovenko decided it would be best to keep this information to himself for now. As he was about get up to go for his afternoon cigarette, a call came on over his phone.

"What is it?"

"Sir, we have a call coming in from South Acren, do you want me to patch you through?"

"Do it. Put it through our encrypted line, and have the SVR listen in and monitor the call."

'Yes sir. Patching you through now." The phone rang for a few seconds, then stopped.

"This is the General Secretary, how may I be of assistance?"

[Dyllonia]

The Ridge

709-ND-4901-32

Nothing seemed right about the day. He did not fight it, but he had to fight. The man 709-ND killed for a moment looked like someone else he had known. "Andrei..." he said, barely audible. He remembered Andrei Petterson's gold hair and for a moment he saw his face on the man he shot. It had been so long sense he had seen that face. He remembered the fatal day when Andrei was killed, executed by the Magnum Ferrum. The gold torch was supposed to be doused that day, but Petterson's sacrifice kept it burning.

"Petrov, Rose." Porshe corrected.

"Of course," 709-ND regathered himself. "I don't know. Back with his guard, scheming on how best to rip me from Vorster's brilliant system of justice no doubt. But I am not worried. Once our guns cut the traitors down to size, we can go ahead and build Caldwell and Vyndor a coffin."

Porshe gave a small smile in satisfaction, but as soon as a bullet smacked the ground beneath them they were back in reality. "HERGROEPEER!" he heard, and at once he knew to retreat to the guns.

[Ithallis]

The Ridge

Cpl. Nedder hit the wall with a mixed squad of Ithallian and Dyllonian soldiers. On the otherside of the trench, the first of the Negenan Artillery Cannons. Nedder wiped his eyes free of grit and sweat as he peaked around the corner. Yeah, it was there all right. A Denel G6-45 Self Propelled Gun, modified for a Hyper-velocity 150 mm cannon.

"Frag those fucks!" a Dyllonian Sergeant shouted. Nedder and four other soldiers lobbed grenades over the hescos, and waited.

"GRENAAT!" a Negenan screamed before five loud blasts shredded the crew to red paste.

"Move up!" The Sergeant called.

"Copy, Uniform Charlie 9, Oscar Mike!"

"Check those corners."

"Copy that, Sector clear."

"Sector cle-SHIT! Taking fire!"

"WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?"

"GOT EYES ON TANGO! BEHIND THE GUN! HE'S BEHIND THE GUN!!"

"On the right!"

BANG

"Got him."

"Secure this site, NOW! Put a bullet in the bodies if you have to make sure."

Nedder climbed up on to the gun, thermite in hand. As he was about to enter the gunner compartment, however, he stopped.

"WHAT THE FUCK YOU LOOKING AT, DUDE?!" An Ithallian Specialist shouted at him.

"Yo, Sarge," Nedder piped up, "are the shells to this here rainmaker in that bin right there?"

"The fuck-yeah, that's the ammo dump, moron."

Nedder turned to his squad, an evil glint in his eye.

"Raznakovan tanks down there look mighty nice. Be a shame if Negenan guns...misfired."

The Sarge paused, then grinned with Nedder.

"Foster, load that gun." he ordered, "lets put some hurt on those bastards."


Atlantic

The INS Endurance had cleared her flight deck and a flight of F/A-29 Fencers stood by ready for take off.

In the pilot seat of the lead fighter, Major Zander Grigori gripped his control stick until his knuckles hurt. He had been waiting for this day. The moment he could strike back against the Negenans and the New Order for everything they had taken from him. His eyes flicked to the photo of his wife and newborn twin daughters. They had been killed when the Empire took Zabayral.

Reaching up, he slammed the sun visor down and gave the thumbs up to the deck boss. He couldn't care less if the South Acren died or not. Grigori was out for vengeance. And it will be his. A sharp Clank sounded and his fighter was launched across the flight deck, and flung into the air.

Meanwhile, Commodore Bowers tried to maintain communications with Captain Lindemann.

"Captain, I don't care you have a rail gun. The Wurmskrut is a Grootslang-class ship. Its not just designed to dishout damage. She was also designed to tank it!"

"Every ship has a weakness, Commodore!" the South Acren Captain snapped over the radio.

"That's why we need each other," The Commodore replied, "If we work together, we can destroy it. The Wurmskrut is weak on the seam line of her keel, 75 feet below the water line. If a torpedo is lined up just right, it can split the weld apart. After that, all she is is prey. We need you to hold the Negenans' attention while we get the birds airborne."


Fort Kasserine

Chancellor Vyndor read the reports, as he always did. He took no pleasure in being in an office. Away from the battle. It was too clinical. Too clean. Vyndor knew that wars were paid for with blood and bone, life and limb. He had seen it when he was still a footslogger in the South African Army, then an Officer of the Imperial Army and finally Commander of the 12th Army. He had seen war, and knew that mere names on a casualty report couldn't compare to the scenes of slaughter they came from.

But the military command would not allow high ranking members out of their sight. He was too important, they said. Absolute bullshit, in Vyndor's opinion. Anyone could lead well given the time and dedication. But his pleas fell on deaf ears, and he was forced to observe this war from a distance.

Vyndor had resigned himself to visiting the Hospital and clinic that was set up, tending to all the wounded who made it back. He held grasping hands as his men screamed for mercy. He prayed with soldiers even as the doctors amputated ruined limbs. The clinic had long run out of anesthetics. He spoon fed armless veterans who just stared blankly forward, consumed by their perceived damning uselessness. He had wiped blood off the floor, administered medications, and cleaned and applied bandages. But the hole in his heart remained unfilled. No matter how many times his men applauded, cheered him and sang praises to "St. Vyndor," he rarely met the end of the day not feeling as useless as the limbless survivors in the wards.

In disgust, he put down the report, covering a face with his hand.

It was selfish, he knew that. But you can't just pluck a soldier from the field, drop him in an armchair, and expect his arm to feel complete without a gun in it. He pondered how Vorster did it. How Vodovenko and Richter did it. He seethed as he came to an angry conclusion.

They were not interested in service. They were interested in self.

A knock on his door thrust Vyndor out of his stupor.

"Sir?" Captain Wimer called out, "You have a telephone call. Line 8."

"Thank you, Captain," Vyndor replied, and dutifully picked up his phone.

"Chancellor Erik Vyndor of the Federation of Ithallis. Who is this?"

"Chancellor," came a vaguely familiar voice, "This is Erik Richter. Kaiser of South Acren. I have us on a secure conference line with General Secretary Vodovenko. We need to talk."

[Dyllonia]

Elkenburg, Oppermenia

Sarvos had grown weary again. Travel was so slow. All around him were hunters and Orderites searching for him, but how could he travel across an entire country? With Alf's addition to the party, food became much more scarce. All around him was snow and the Oppermenian wilderness was a dangerous thing. It seems that ever since the Order took over the land grew much colder.

Sarvos, Diane, Taimon, and Alf shivered their way through the winds. How close they were they did not know. They could not stop at cities, not wearing their armor. Taking off the armor was dangerous, Sarvos looked very different then the common man. His skin was near grey, his hair crimson, and his ears...

"I see something." Diane whispered.

"Your eyelids?" Alf suggested.

"A house." Diane said. Sarvos looked out himself and he saw that it was true. In the country of Elkenburg, Sarvos spotted not only a house, but a village.

"It is rundown." Taimon said. "Doesn't look like anyone has lived in those homes for a while. See there? The glass is broken in that house, and that one looks like its in pain."

"Lets go over there and see. Be careful, we don't know what this place is...or was." The four silently crept along the perimeter. All the homes were in awful condition. The windows and signs and sometimes even whole houses were destroyed. The town was relatively small, and abandoned dead farms took a lot of the ground it covered. The roads were a mess. "What is this place?" Taimon sighed.

"This sign says 'Ravenfield'." Diane said, holding up the broken 'Welcome to Ravenfield!" sign off the ground.

"Fitting name it is." Alf said, "Reckon the villagers left us any food? I'm starving."

"Search the houses for survivors." Sarvos commanded. The other knights nodded and began investigating the houses and restaurants and markets. They saw signs of nobody. Until Diane called. "Sarv, you might want to see this." Sarvos rushed over to Diane and saw the court house. On top of the court house looked to be a bronze raven perched upon the roof. It looked like at one time it may have been beautiful. The first thing Sarvos saw was a statue that laid dead in the middle of the square, being gazed down upon by the court house. Sarvos walked up to the the statue and he saw that it had fallen. It was painted red by the looks of it, and as it dried it turned pink. On the engravings he read the name 'HERMAN E. WALTER'. It was no name he had ever heard of. Probably some local hero of the town in its birth.

Upon investigation he noticed that the arm of the fallen Herman E. Walter a large notebook rested in his left hand with a rough painting of the dragon of the New Order in it. "Doe left his tracks here." Sarvos sighed.

"Luna's mercy, this isn't pretty." Diane was looking gravely on the other side of the court house. Sarvos rushed over and beheld a horror: a long circle of nooses each with a victim beneath their necklace of rope. Sarvos watched the tragedy for a minute before taking a step closer. Some of them he saw Oppermenian military uniforms, others deteriorated rags. Sarvos heard a voice behind him.

"I sure think we found out where the all the people went." Alf said in a joyful voice. "Hangin' out n'er the square."

Taimon came to, trying to ignore the show in front of him. "Captain Sarvos, most of the houses are bloody messes. The beds are all drenched in blood and it smells like death in each one. Then I found some journals lying around. They hold some kind of medical records, some hold lists of casualties."

"Hand one to me." Taimon gave Sarvos one of the journals and Sarvos flipped through. "These are not all Tulivagian names. Some Raznakovan, others Acrenese. Looks like the Order made Ravenfield their camp for a while."

"Good fiery Sollis." Taimon sighed. Then suddenly, Sarvos heard a soft crack and not a moment later did he feel a wind go by his head. He turned his head and saw that something had broken the rope on one of nooses, letting one of the corpses to fall to the ground. "Hostiles! We're under attack!" Sarvos called, and soon more bullets came flying. None of them hitting Sarvos or his partners, but each of them piercing the rope of a noose allowing a nightmarish rain of corpses fall to the ground. "To the court house!" Sarvos called.

As soon as they made way to safety, the bullets stopped flying. Every once in a while, a bullet would fly again through a window to remind them of a mystery's presence.

"Shit!" Taimon hissed. "What are we supposed to do? We're pinned down here, is there anything we can do?"

Sarvos saw through a window as the sun fell and Dusk gave way to darkness. "Take defensive positions," he said, "Barricade what we can, keep this place secured." It was only then that Sarvos took in the place he was: a court house. A building of law and order, and Sarvos was a criminal. The sword of the Law was coming.

[South Acren]

The two leaders, both on opposite ends of a war were on the line. Erik wasn't exactly sure how he would get this to work but something is better then nothing. He took a breath. "Gentlemen, as you know, I have decided to leave the Order. Before the accusations fly, let me explain. My job is to protect my people, enforce and complete the ideas of my country, and guide my soldiers and bring them home. While on the campaign in Oppermenia, I lost the second largest amount of soldiers we have ever lost since the era of Rommel. When I looked around on that battlefield i realized we were nothing but a distraction. We pulled in the Oppermanian forces to occupy them while the Order did the actual warring. And because of that, 12,673 soldiers were killed, 150 tanks destroyed, and 204 jets shot down with only 50% of pilots surviving. What did we achieve? 2 miles. I don't care the excuse, That price was too much for 2 miles. General Secretary, you are with the Order to protect your people if I remember correctly? What of those that the Order murders to keep quiet? I think we have all seen the Oppermenian Incident Footage. He was just a boy. Nothing more. You and I know you have limits. This Order is no better then Nazi Germany. Do you know why I left? I found camps, General. My last straw was burnt along with those camps. I ask you this. Are you willing to support a regime that murders innocents? Or one that follows the path of the USSR's mortal enemy? If so do what you must, I refuse to help them." He switched to a secure (OOC: meaning General can't listen in, but Erik can listen to both leaders) channel between him and the Chancellor, leaving the General Secretary on the other line so he can listen to what his once Russian ally has to say. "Chancellor, I am here to let you know a few things. One, I have thousand of unused soldiers waiting for revenge. You need assistance, we are glad to help. Two, I have reason to believe the Order will retaliate against all leaders who are against them. Prepare just in case. God knows we are spread far and few. Three, Draos is still against the Order, within reason. They still despise us, but they have no reason to hate you. Lastly, I hold my word, Chancellor. My ancestors don't have a great history, Im not going down like that Austrian painter or The old kaiser, known as a failure and a liar. I am not letting a Order bring this world to ashes."

[South Raznakova]

"Yes, I have seen the incident footage, and it has gone to far. If there is one thing I cannot condone it is the murder of innocent children. My operatives are already taking part in intelligence gathering operations against the order and as of this moment my entire intelligence network is at your disposal. We have already taken steps to ensure that Andrew Rose is returned to the resistance. Unit 46 operatives are in place to ensure he does not escape the ongoing battle. Other operations are also underway, and we have already infiltrated the ranks of the New Order."

[South Acren]

Erik was surprised by this but kept his composure. He switched it to a combined call. "Good to know we can prevent a world war... What we need is a plan to take out the Order. Cut the head off the snake, the body follows Ja? What i say, we begin Combined Operations to eliminate the leadership behind the Order. A group of Black Ops Specialists, or someone from all the nations to get together and begin destroying the Order from the top down.

[South Raznakova]

"Agreed, the assassination of high ranking members of the order should be our first priority. I am sending you the files of 5 unit 46 operatives. These operatives are the best of the best. Their dossiers should speak for themselves."

[South Acren]

"Got it. I can assist when I can. Dimitri is capable of handling diplomatic things. My suggestion to you and the Chancellor here is to prepare for a world wide assault against the Order. However, watch your backs. The Order already has a bounty on me. Surely they have on you, Chancellor and they will put one on you General Secretary. Its little chance they will get anywhere close but its always good to be prepared."

[Ithallis]

Fort Kasserine

Erik was in complete shock.

A thousand thoughts flooded his mind as he heard Richter and Vodovenko go back and forth, discussing defection as easily as one changes clothes. He felt nothing but disgust and anger, especially for Vodovenko, whose crocodile tears of "going to far" was particularly rich for him.

Vyndor had no idea how he managed to keep calm, but poison dripped from every word.

"Such a noble venture from a man who offered me his friendship, and a treaty of peace no less, then aided and abetted in the destruction of my nation and people."

An uncomfortable silence reigned. Vyndor pressed the matter.

"I really don't know what you expect of me. My people have been slaughtered. Our homes destroyed. For Christ's sake, Vodovenko. We're fighting a war! We are fighting a battle, right now, in this moment. This is happening. And I'm to believe some sob story because "Its gone too far?!" Don't give me horse piss and call it whiskey, Vodovenko. What ever trust you think you had from us is gone."

"And the same goes to you Richter." Vyndor directed his anger at South Acren now, "You have the gall to claim a conscience after you attack the last Ithallian fleet? With U-boats? Do you know how many men went down with the Archangel? How about the Canhir, or the Jerusalem?"

Captain Wimer entered the office with a folder in his hand.

GET. OUT. Vyndor mouthed angrily at his aide, who abruptly left the room.

"I pray to God you two have something serious to bring to the table if you want me to even CONSIDER your proposal. Because from where I sit, I'm staking the survival of my people on your word, which means nothing, frankly, and secondly YOU came to ME."


The Ridge

The soldiers lugged the shell into the breech and closed it.

"Gun's loaded!" Specialist Bill Toomey shouted.

Cpl. Fred Nedder settled into the gunner's seat. He had always wanted to shoot a gun as big as this thing. He felt the adrenaline rising, the blood banging in his ears.

"Position North by 23 degrees, East by 79 degrees."

"Traversing! Gun on target."

"Fuck yeah, she's on target," Nedder grinned, a Raznakovan tank dead in his gun sight. Time to bring the pain.

"FIRE!"

POW!

The massive shell was blasted into the sky, arching sharply to drop down on the Raznakovan armored column.


Atlantic

Major Zanders bore down on the Wurmskrut, his squadron in formation with him, when the battle ship erupted with anti aircraft fire and surface to air missiles.

"All callsigns, break formation and engage at will," Zanders blankly ordered on the radio. The Fencers broke off and evaded the first onslaught even as the Negenan and South Acren battleships exchanged blows.

[South Raznakova]

"Let me make something very clear Vyndor. I did not ask to have you get involved, in fact, I do not see how you could even help. Most of your forces have been decimated, and its only a matter of months before the resistance falls to the order, and that is without Erik and I getting involved. Erik and I are the only ones with the resources to ensure the resistance wins, so if you do not want to get involved, thats fine, but stay out of our way. Then, when all this is over and done with, and you want to bring Erik and I to justice, feel free to try, though I doubt you will get very far. And yes, the execution of children is where I draw the line Vyndor. So you can help us take down the order, or you can go sit in a corner, but either way, shut up and let us do what we need to do.

Now Erik, the SVR has found out that a Negenan assassin has entered into South Acren to assassinate you. We are tracking his movements but I am sure you can handle this. We will begin targeting New Order operatives in Oppermenia and Dyllonia, and once Rose is in the hands of the resistance, all of my forces will be returned home to prepare for a New Order attack."

[Ithallis]

Fort Kasserine

"How dare you." Vyndor spoke just as calmly as before, completely unfazed by Vodovenko's rebuke. Vyndor did not care what this tyrant thought. He was going to listen for once, "How dare you disregard my people so flippantly. I haven't got a corner to go to; you and Vorster took and raped it. I have limited combat arms at my disposal because you assisted Vorster in shattering it. We have been chased across the world by an enemy who does not want our surrender but our DEATH. And HOW DARE YOU criticize my conduct when your's is on display for the world to see; A liar and a fraud who promises peace then stabs them in the back!"

Vyndor sunk back into his seat physically exhausted, sweat running down his face. It was as if a massive weight had been lifted off of his chest.

You had that coming, Vladimir.

Vodovenko began to speak but Vyndor continued, calmer than before.

"My people have known nothing but slavery, war and the threat of both, you two. What we want is the peace to live in freedom."

Vyndor went through his papers.

"You want to help? There is a convoy moving with food and medical supplies into Kasserine but its moving through Negenan territory. Ensure it makes it to us, and I'll be willing to help in your plans."


Ithallian Convoy

"Aw, shit." Captain Thomas Glouser swore as the Negenan soldier raised his rifle and raised a hand, ordering them to stop.

"Intel said no check points on this road dammit!" Sgt. Keith Oda punched the dash board.

Negenan and Raznakovan troopers began to surround the ten truck convoy.

The Captain and his sergeant readied their side arms, ready to die fighting if need be.

A Raznakovan officer approached the drivers side window, talking on his radio, likely to seal their fates...

[South Raznakova]

Vodovenko sat back in his chair, he knew Vyndor was right, but he also knew that emotions would only get in the way, and ensure the Order would be victorious.

"Like I said, we do not need your assistance. We already have plans in motion to turn that supply convoy over to the resistance. So you can either help, or you can stay out of our way, you choose. The way I see it, we are the only chance your people have of defeating the order. Yes its true, I am one of the causes of all this destruction, and going to hell would be a mercy after all that I have done, but if we wish to defeat the order we must put aside our differences for the moment. Then, when all this is over, we will leave each other alone. If you wish to go to war against me, then so be it, but I will no longer be the bitch of a man who murders children. I underestimated him, and millions have died because of it. Whether you believe the words coming out of my mouth, I don't care. All I care about is putting Mr. Doe's head on a pike for the world to see and, if you want to try and mount my head next to his, you can go ahead and try."

[Dyllonia]

The Ridge

709-HM fired his gun with intensity. His ears were ringing and his head was pounding. He guessed he smelled like sewer, but he had no way of knowing. Despite it all he kept going. This will always be better then Samaara, he thought. It can always get worse, the Negenans can always make it worse.

He took aim, guarding one of the main guns. He saw a man in a black, bloody uniform rush towards the defense. He fired a shot from his rifle and sent him him screaming to the dirt. Vodovenko, he thought. Another one charged at him. This one's uniform looked like it must have been tan before the battle. He shot him as they locked eyes. Vorster. He looked out again and saw one whose uniform was too filthy to identify. He fired another round and shot him in the shoulder. Another shot hit him in the chest. Dusk. Another one. Creedy.

One in gold came charging at him, he took a waist shot and missed. 709 aimed to shoot back. Click. In a moment of dumbness he kept pulling his trigger and nothingness. It was at one last moment when he remembered what to do.

BANG

He hardly felt a thing, but when he looked down he saw that his middle and index fingers were blown clean off. Drowning in adrenaline, he laughed. "Pigeon food!" he loudly called it. He looked up and saw the Ithallian ready to finish him off. Then a soldier behind 709 took a shot at his attacker. "We're even, Rose." he heard. He tried to reload his weapon, but he forgot he lost a couple of fingers forcing him to drop the gun a few times before clicking in the clip. He looked down and he could tell that an attack was coming, hard too.

[Ithallis]

Fort Kasserine

Erik Vyndor run down the corridors to the holding cells, running past each one until he found who he was looking for.

"Bee in your bonnet, Chancellor?" Antonil Barrett smiled. He was lying on his back on his bunk, casually reading El Principe by Niccolo Machiavelli.

"Vladimir Vodovenko and Erik Richter," Vyndor breathed breathlessly, "are they in the conspiracy? The New World Order Illuminati or whatever?"

"Who's asking?" Barrett asked smugly, not looking up from his book.

Vyndor smacked a fist into the wall, hating the position he was in more and more.

"A desperate man who wants his people to survive this plague."

"Yes, you would be concerned," Barrett nodded understandingly, "however, as much as your position is with merit, you have to consider the man on the opposite side of the board."

"What, you mean South Acren and Raznakova?"

"Exactly,"

"That's why I'm here. Can they be trusted?"

Barrett was quiet then promptly stood up and quoted the book he was reading.

Any man who strives to be good all the time is bound to come to ruin, and find him self among the masses who are not good. Therefore, it is essential for a leader to know how to NOT be good to keep his power, and to use that knowledge or refrain from it, as necessity requires.

"Do you know what that means, Chancellor?"

"In a nut shell, desperate times calls for desperate measures."

Barrett shrugged, "I suppose that could be a simple way of putting it. It is the creed that Richter and Vodovenko have lived by as rulers. Vodovenko especially."

"Tyrants," Vyndor growled, "They are tyrants."

"Yet look at their nations. Their people do not rebel, they cheer them, authentically. The reason is because though they are not good men, they are EFFECTIVE and GOOD rulers."

Vyndor felt a sting in his heart, as if Barrett was taking a jab at him.

"Do not misunderstand me, Chancellor. You have proven yourself to be a good and effective ruler as well; a displaced people do not fight for nothing. They rally to you, you inspire them. You have proven yourself a thousand times over as Doe's superior."

"BUT," Barrett raised a finger, "Your biggest problem is that you cannot divorce the concept of a Good Man and a Good Leader. You think they are one in the same, when in truth, they cannot be more different."

"What does this have to do with Vodovenko and Richter?"

"Stop seeing them as men." Barrett said, "You have to view them as leaders. THEN you can ask yourself, can they be trusted."

Vyndor snickered to himself, causing Barrett to raise and eyebrow.

"You reminded me of my old friend, Marcus Shrane."

"A sad day when a criminal is likened to a man who was friend to great man."

Vyndor looked up.

"Can I trust you?"

"What did I tell you in that vault?"

"Trust no one."

"Exactly."

Vyndor swallowed hard. He knew what he had to do.

He punched in the code and opened the cell door.

"Mr. Barrett," Vyndor announced, though only the two of them could hear it, "as of now, you are my General Advisor."

[South Acren]

"Listen. We need all the help we can get at this point. Doesn't matter how big we are, The Order is quite possibly the biggest threat we've faced. We need to get along for once. After this, doesn't matter what happens. Everyone can hate each other again. But for this single moment, act at least like we are a deadly foe to the Order. That convoy, its heading through enemy territory Ja? My troops are busy. The Order Controls large amounts of towns and cities. But what i can do....god this it probably a bad idea but...I have a transport chopper here. General Secretary, please inform your troops in the area me and my team are going to air drop over the convoy. I'd appreciate it if i wasn't shot at. Problem is....can't risk my pilots to do a "Hot" landing. Once we are down, we are staying until i can get a ride. Which is a problem...I need someone to take temporary control...Wait...." He turned his head and glanced at his Russian friend. "Dimitri, think you could handle the power?" his friend nodded. "Good. Right. Im disembarking in an hour." he switched the communicator off. He then walked to his desk and hit a button. A automated voice echoed through out the base, calling Alpha Team to the Airstrip Equipped and ready for debrief. He grabbed his rifle and walked out. Along the way he was joined by a familiar shock trooper in blood red armor. "Im here sir." Erik was startled. Normally the red clad soldier never spoke "Um....ok....but you dont have to come....uh...." "its Lieutenant Zander sir. Sorry never spoke before. My voice transmitter was broken and i never replaced it." the two laughed at this as the walked to cargo plane. His team was already on board. The two entered, strapped in, and Erik began debriefing the soldiers. The plane took off towards the convoy.

[Negena]

Atlantic

The South Acren Railgun smacked the side of the Wurmskrut, rocking the massive ship but not piercing her armor.

"Rail gun strike!" the Bosun announced as the helmsman attempted to correct course.

A Midshipman turned to Capt. Barkov with a triumphant grin.

"They underestimate us. Not even South Acren weaponry can harm our ship!"

"Don't be cocky," Barkov chided, watching the Bismarck through his binoculars, "The Wurmskrut is resistant to heavy damage. She is not impervious."

Barkov turned to his men, who now glanced at each other nervously.

"Don't worry," Barkov assured them, as the Wurmskrut's guns roared in defiance, "that seam cuts both ways. The Bismarck has a weakness, and I want you to beat her until we find it!"

"Aye aye, captain!" The Midshipman shouted, "guns 1 through 6, target the turrets. guns 7 through 12, target the superstructure. Priority target: the Bridge."


Lacona

Violins gently played as Vorster took his meal, delicately chewing his food in between sips of tea.

A nervous servant approached him, and felt his blood run cold as Vorsters bright grey eyes fall upon him.

"G-Grand Marshall Rhoodi is here, as you requested, y-your Majesty."

Vorster nodded and bade the military commander in.

Rhoodi slowly approached, his eyes flicking between Vorster and the contents of his plate.

"My God, man, what is that?"

"A delicacy I have recently acquired a taste for." Vorster smiled as his dabbed at his mouth with a silver embroidered napkin, "I can have a dish prepared for you if you like."

Rhoodi was a warrior. He had seen wounds and bodies twisted in the most garish ways some might call nightmarish, and still slept soundly in his bed at night. But right now, in that moment, Rhoodi felt his stomach churn.

"I'm afraid I'll have to pass for now, your majesty. Your generosity is appreciated, however."

Vorster shrugged.

"Suit yourself." He took a sip of his tea, "Now, the matter at hand."

"The matter that I cannot go through with."

Vorster paused.

what?

"I beg your pardon Grand Marshall, I believe I misheard you."

"Your Majesty, I cannot for a number of reasons. It would eat into our manpower that is needed to secure the war effort. It is exhaustively expensive and quite frankly, it is barbaric."

Vorster slowly, dangerously, lowered his teacup.

"This from the same man who engaged in wars to retake Nelvoz?"

"War is one thing. This is unnecessary slaughter. They are beaten. There is no reason to antagonize the slaves further. They know their place now."

Vorster steepled his fingers as he looked his Grand Marshall in the eyes.

"And...I'm supposed to care about it?"

Rhoodi was stunned.

"You see, Rhoodi," Vorster mused as he began to cut another piece of his meal, "There is a marked point to be made in establishing one's power. When I was a general way back in the day, I knew that rifle and shell is what would gain power, when our enemies had sticks and stones. With the dawn of the empire, I commissioned the RAKA when the Slaves developed nuclear weapons. What to do when the power goes beyond the material?"

Vorster poked his piece with a fork, holding it up pensively, watching it glisten in the candle light, as Rhoodi struggle to maintain his intestinal fortitude.

"It one thing to have power, old friend. From time to time...you have to SHOW you have power."

He slowly placed the morsel in his mouth, prompting Rhoodi to lose the contents of his stomach, falling to his hands and knees as he retched.

"Give it some time to mull over, and come back tomorrow with your decision, but be warned, old friend: Your career and life may well be staked on your answer."

"Y-yes, My liege."

"You are dismissed."

Grand Marshall Rhoodi promptly made his exit, frantically striding past his guards and aides. This was enough. This was madness! He got on his communicator to a specialized channel.

"Ready my dropship," he said frantically, "I'll tell you everything on the way."

Back in his office, Vorster casually enjoyed the cooked human ears that had been prepared for him...


Dyllongrad

Field Marshall Herman Kroints arrived in the capital, as the dignitaries came out to meet him.

"Marshall!" Kirally Dusk proclaimed, meeting the commander on the steps of the capital, "Your trip was without incident I trust."

Kroints shook his hand, but his face was serious.

"Where is Benedictov and Commandant Kruger?" he demanded, "We need to talk immediately."


South Acren

Dorning was hidden in the brush as he listened to the encrypted signals of the South Acren Radios.

They knew he was here. That was no matter. They had no idea who was here or they wouldn't have merely doubled the patrols. He almost laughed when he saw the armored column make its way down the road as he turned and went the opposite direction.

Fools, he sneered, You can't find a ghost.

Despite his massive bulk, Dorning moved with unnatural grace, barely making a sound as he walked. He felt relieved. South Acren was completely unprepared for him. Still a nagging from his training a lifetime ago chided him to be prepared all the same.

Misdirection and evasion.

He sighed. Perhaps a distraction would be useful. It certainly would not hurt his chances. He tucked and contorted his mass, rolling underneath one of the South Acren Command hovercrafts. Attached by his magnetic fingers and toes, he attached a spear charge to the underside, making sure it cleared the front and rear bumper of the craft. Disengaging his magnets, he swiftly rolled back into the forest, his presence unnoticed. Hiding in a thorn bush, he waited to observe his handiwork.

With a sharp twanging, grapple lines shoot out from under the vehicle and into the trucks in front and behind it. Then there was a bang as the explosive blasted the vehicle in two, the taut wires launching the halves into the ones they where attached too.

Chaos reigned as the soldiers milled about, attempting to set out small fires and attend to the wounded.

Dorning smiled, satisfied, and silently departed from the area.

[South Acren]

2 hours after the departure
The compartment was cold. The soldiers inside we silent as ever, some sleeping, some reading, others praying. One thing, was universal. The determination of each was plainly obvious. Each soldier knew what must be done, and that failure was not an option. They needed the convoy to survive for obvious reasons, but to also prove themselves to others back home. As they sat in silence, the plane shuttered a bit and after a long wait the call from the pilot came. "Alpha-3 we are nearing LZ. Prepare for HALO Jump." Up in the cockpit, the pilot hit the switch for the drop ramp of the cargo plane to drop. As he did, a radio transmission came over the radio. "Unidentified Aircraft, you are entering restricted airspace. Id yourself and your destination or be destroyed." The pilot switched the radio off, giving no response. He yelled into the intercom "GO, GO! GET THE FUCK OFF MY PLANE!" In the cargo area, the team, already prepared, followed the order and jumped from the back. They plummeted towards the ground, only opening their chutes once they reached 3000 ft. Far below, they team could make out the small outline of the convoy.

On the Ground
One of the South Raznakovan troops, quite bored, was chatting with another soldier. He had no clue what they were doing but that wasn't really his concern. Suddenly he glanced up, just to look at the sky. His eyes widened slightly as the outline of soldiers hanging from parachutes drifted down from seemingly nowhere. "Shit, look!"

The Atlantic
"Captain, its targeting the bridge!" The SIC half-yelled-half-cried "No matter, we can too. No matter the armor on the sides, Superstructures are always weak. Evacuate the Bridge." He waved his hand and those on the bridge vanished. He glared at the massive warship across the sea to his own. He respected it and its crew, but they needed to be destroyed. Before he left he issued one order. "Railgun. Load APHE. Target: Their Bridge. They want ours? They can loose theirs. Rest of the gunners, Aim slightly below the waterline of their ship. Thats where they are weakest."He then turned and left.

[South Raznakova]

The Raznakovan officer walked up to the drivers side of the truck, hand on his sidearm.

"Show me your papers. Keep one hand visible while you reach for them. Do it slowly."

Captain Glouser reached for the forged travel papers, keeping one hand on the wheel. He handed them to the officer, trying to keep his hand from shaking. The officer went over the papers. As he did so, the soldier next to Glouser placed his hand on his rifle, ready to shoot should anything happen.

"Everything is in order, you may pass.", he said as he handed back the papers.

"Пусть они пройдут.", he said into his radio. The gate opened up, and the ten trucks drove through.

[Ithallis]

Fort Kasserine

Vyndor and Barrett walked side by side into the war room, causing many people to start. One MP even went for his handgun.

"At ease, everyone. At ease. He's with me."

Despite it being their Chancellor, the staff members gave Barrett wary sidelong stares.

Vyndor stepped up to the map of Dyllonia that had markers indicating New Order and Resistance forces. A weathered looking Colonel, Adem van Ryker looked up and smiled.

"Well, slap my face and call me a bell. Good to see ya kicking, Colonel." he laughed as the two shook hands.

"Indeed, Ryker. Its been too long."

van Ryker and Vyndor went way back, back to the time of the 12th Army, when Vyndor was a Colonel and van Ryker was a Captain. That all seemed a life time ago, now.

"Whats the situation?"

van Ryker pointed at the map to a road marked by a Negenan flag.

"The Gravy Train got stopped here, and we lost communications briefly. We feared the worst, but providence seems to be with us, sah. Communications have been reestablished and they should be arriving within the hour."

Vyndor was pleased but also stunned. He turned to Barrett, who gave a solemn nod.

"He kept his word."

"I know," Vyndor shook his head, "It's just...sinking in I guess."

"Who kept his word, sah?"

"Vodovenko."

The whole room went deathly silent, save for the chirps of computers and the static hiss from radios.

"I know I didn't hear that name." van Ryker snarled.

"I'ts...complicated," Vyndor admitted, "But there are players far greater than Vodovenko in this fight."

"Oh? Do tell..."

Vyndor looked all around him. Every face bore some measure of anger and betrayal. He soundly found himself unable to speak.

"The situation is becoming dire for the members of the Order," Barrett spoke up, "The underhanded methods that are employed by Doe is not what Vodovenko or Richter signed up for. They want out, and they're ready to help our cause."

"Perhaps your South Acren friend needs to be reminded that we are fighting a joint Raznakovan-Negenan battlegroup in Vinyard." van Ryker angrily stabbed the ridge on the map with his finger.

"Vodovenko anticipated this." Barrett agreed.

"Anticipated?"

"The Negenan's have Rose." Barrett shrugged with a small smile, "The Raznakovans will soon be relieving them of their prize."

"And you know this...how?" van Ryker asked incredulously.

"You can say I've seen and heard a thing or two." Barrett muttered.

van Ryker shook his head and turned to the Chancellor.

"What's the plan now?"

Vyndor stared at the marker placed on the pass before speaking.

"Contact all units. Expect imminent Black Flag operation behind enemy lines. Check fire on Raznakovan units."


Vinyard Pass

Cpl. Fred Nedder was enjoying himself.

The 150's were an absolute joy to fire, sending round after round into the valley and watching the Raznakovan tanks mill around, desperate to avoid the shells.

That is, until a pasty looking private opened the hatch.

"YO DAWG! CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE! GOT ORDERS FROM UP TOP!"

Nedder turned a looked the private in the eye.

"WHAT?!" he barked. His hearing wasn't stellar after the number of rounds he had shot.

"TOP BRASS SAY RAZZIES ARE FRIENDLY."

Almost on cue, a Raznakovan grenade bounced on the artillery gun, and landed in Nedder's lap. He promptly grabbed it and threw it away. It exploded as they both ducked.

"THE FUCK IS COMMAND SMOKING?! LAST I CHECKED, THEY SEEM PRETTY FUCKING HOSTILE TO ME!"

"WELL, THEY SAY THEY'RE GONNA FLIP."

"THAT'S NOT A SURPRISE, HONESTLY." Nedder rubbed his eyes in disbelief, "GOTTA BE THE FIFTH TIME THEY SWITCHED SIDES. THEY CHANGE FLAGS LIKE I CHANGE SOCKS!"


The Valley

Sgt. Adetti bit his tongue. This was it. The end of the line. They were out of ammo for the cannon and their co axial was all but depleted.

He looked out his view port.

The Drone was shot to shit, but still standing. It staggered towards them, pneumatic fist charging. There was nothing to stop it now.

With a resigned sigh, he leaned back in the loader seat.

"I'm sorry, guys."

"Hey, chief, we did all we could." Crowley was sniffing in fear, imagining the fate the Drone Pilot had in store for them.

"Look on the bright side," Thomble snickered through his tears, "whoever is piloting that thing is definitely getting demoted for taking this long on a tank."

"Nah, Raznakovan underperforming? He's gonna get shot." Boyd said matter of factly.

They all burst into laughter.

Adetti reached into a compartment by the now empty shell storage as Thomble continued.

"We fought the good fight, gentlemen. Don't forget that. What we have accomplished is righteous in the eyes of the Lord. You hear that, Crow?"

"Yea, I hear ya."

"Ya know," Thomble's voice wavered as the Drone got closer, "There is a bible passage I think about, sometimes. Many times. It goes,

And as I looked on, the voice of The Lord came over me. The voice said, "Who shall bear the word? Who will go forth in our stead?" And I said, "Here am I. Send me."

Adetti retrieved the item, a bottle of Ithallian whiskey, but was pensive now as Thomble spoke. He knew that passage well.

"Book of Isaiah, Chapter 6." Adetti smiled.

He pulled the cork out of the bottle before breathing in the vapor of the contents.

"May as well get a little loose. At least we won't be around for the hangover."

He put the bottle to his lips and took a sizable gulp.

"Hot damn...thats better then the best." Adetti sighed as the bottle was passed around.

They all shared one last laugh. Outside, the Drone was preparing to strike.

"Its been an honor, gentlemen," Sgt. Patrick Adetti, 7th Militia Armored Battalion, smiled as he lit a cigarette, "I loved it. Being here. With you. Best job I ever had."


Atlantic

Major Zander Grigori streaked his jet low over the sea, avoiding direct fire from the Negenans and friendly fire from the South Acrens.

The situation couldn't be more twisted. But he knew how to make it right somehow. A Mk. 7 torpedo.

Grigori had failed the initial broadside strafe, but had come up with a better plan, a rear guard strike. Lining up with the stern of the Wurmskrut, Zander fought the urge to release his payload to soon. He had to get close.

1 mile and closing.

a half.

a quarter.

He screamed in anticipation, just as a South Acren salvo slammed into the ship. He launched his torpedo, and was rewarded with a massive explosion on the aft deck of the ship.

"FUCK YEAH! THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!" he shouted as the Wurmskrut began to list slightly.

[Dyllonia]

Dyllongrad

Dusk frowned at the Field Marshall's serious tone, then concealed a growl at his words. Have they forgotten who the leader of Dyllonia is? a voice asked. They haven't, have you? another answered. "The Director and Commandant are both in the keep of Dyllonus Manor. I'll summon our ride and we can meet them, Marshall Kroints."

[South Acren]

The Convoy
The group of soldiers landed in the surrounding area, mostly unnoticed. They buried their chutes, while the Lead Soldier watched the convoy. He watched the troops at the gate, mostly Raznakovan, some Negenan. The Raznakovan Troops let the trucks pass, while the Negenans seemed a little upset by the outcome. Some troops yelled at one another, while others whispered to themselves. Erik motioned for his Team to regroup. They crawled over, some taking cover behind trees or bushes. "Negenans won't be happy, watch them the most, and avoid contact with the Raznakovans. After 5 mikes, we move on to watch the convoy." His soldiers to defensive position, watching silently and guns ready. "Generalfeild Kommadant, I hope you let us have fun this time." Erik smirked at the soldiers remark "Only kill if fired at lads. Gotta make it sort of fair."

Eagles Nest
Dimitri sat in the chair, filling out papers and documents. He wasn't happy about the quick boost to Kaiser-like-level but it better him then some idiot. He read of a incident report, one that looked suspicious. It seemed that a terrorist is causing problems, he thought. He stood up after debating what to do, and then walked and strapped on his armor, covering up his face behind a helmet and strapping into his Exosuit. It was a new model, but he hated it. It wasn't like his old Spetsnaz uniform. No matter. He waved some aids he considered unimportant to follow him, and he marched to the vehicle bay. Within a few minutes the convoy of armored cars was moving down the road.