Harrisopia-Traldonia Conflict

[Alexiandra]

OCC:wait,were those 2 soldeirs the sentries?,just wandering because i thought it looked kinda coincadental.

OOC: I don't think so. Unless I'm reading it wrong, Harrisopia's troops are supporting Upper Magica's offensive against what remains of the Traldonian Army.

[Upper Magica]

Above The Jungles Of Traldonia
90th Bombardment Wing

The Airman looked frazzled. The last few days had been hell; it'd started with the Riomler nuclear scare - they'd taken shelter in the Harrisopian airbase they were based at - and cowered in a hardened bunker for 15 minutes before the all-clear was given. Had they been home, they'd have likely been ran into the air with a hot load, waiting for a strike order; but thankfully, Harrisopia didn't have a nuclear sharing agreement with the Empire - nor did the Empire host any of its nuclear assets on Allied territory. Then, the air crews were effectively jobless - navigation, surveillance and comms satellites had been taken out by the EMP from the Riomlerian nukes, and the techs had been working double shifts to get the Wing integrated into the Allied satellite network.

That involved removing a great deal of electronics and installing different things. She didn't understand it all, but in short, something like, as a tech explained to her, like her dad did when he was giving her 'the talk' ...no, not that one, the one where she found out Santa didn't exist - basic software and hardware incompatibilities.

Speaking of WMDs, she'd heard rumors - very flimsy ones, at that - that the Army was moving a bunch of NBC suits into the AO just in case the Traldonian remnants went anywhere along the CBRN spectrum in that country's death screams. She recalled the ancient motto "one hundred million, ready to die". It fit in those crazy bastards' case - even now, their citizens were putting up crazy amounts of resistance. Onasa was getting hit, and hard. This time not from bombs or a good old fashioned shooting war, but they were straight-up rioting. The city was practically in flames.

In a moment, the village her aircraft was targeting would be too - Alexiandran satellites and Imperial CAS flights running strike missions nearby noticed Traldonian AAA and SAM installations being prepared here. The Harrisopians and Imperial forces were making good headway, and they couldn't afford to lose, even for a moment, the critical assistance of the Airborne and the attack squadrons.

Onasa Metropolitan Region, Traldonia
1053rd Military Police Detachment

The night was beautiful, Tomas mused. The urban horizon was lit up like dancing flames - because that's what it was. The Traldonians were going to learn what the people of Riomler had - the slow and painful way - how to destroy your own country.

Broken glass and burned out buildings were the norm as the convoy of a few armored trucks and a couple of LAVs mounted with water cannons and gas projectors - loaded with grenades containing the finest of aerosolized essence of bhut-jolokia - were en route to bolster a Harrisopian unit practically under siege. A few militants had gotten the idea of throwing bottles at the vehicles, but ran off after presumably seeing the Imperial flag. The miscalculation of a fancy Colonel had cost the Magicans a lot of goodwill, but it made the irate citizens of Onasa fear.

The Harrisopian soldiers were on the brink of making that same mixed blessing and potential war-crime, firing warning shots in the air and wrestling with angry civilians in desperation when the 1053rd arrived.

Tomas marched with his comrades out of the truck, taking up position in line formation behind the Harrisopian unit, holding steady his riot shield. His sergeant cried out, as if a Roman centurion, "Advance, riot detachment!" and with steady precision, the unit closed into the melee, pulling back the battered Harrisopians behind the line.

Tomas was suddenly confronted by a furious Traldonian woman, about his age. Young. She yelled and screamed and bashed a rock at his riot shield; in response, the man next to him clubbed her over the head, and she fell limp to the ground - the rear-line guy behind him snatched her ankles and dragged her behind the phalanx, binding her hands with a pair of zip-ties. His sergeant cried out once more - "Masks, on!" The rear-line guys holding up the shields over them were the first to; then he shuffled toward the back as the man behind him, now with his mask secure, held steady his position on the line while Tomas got his own gas-mask on. The new rear line, the last to get their masks on, then raised their thumbs. A volley of gas grenades, containing the liquid, aerosolized contents of Satan's own creation, somewhat more potent than typical CS gas, irritating both the eyes and skin, landed in and around the crowd.

The crowd recoiled, and started to retreat - the Military Police followed with their shields and clubs. Another protester tried to get on top of Tomas's section of shield wall. "Shit, I got one over the top!" "Throw him off, damnit!", his comrade next to him yelled. "Hold up - we'll help you!" A few of the Harrisopians, equipped with spare masks from the trucks, were nearby, having been previously - no pun intended - tied up in detaining any stragglers from the main crowd getting caught behind the shieldwall. Tomas and the three foreigners heaved up - one of them had a free arm to smash the would-be Traldonian national hero's fingers with a rusty claw hammer he'd found in the street, causing him to drop to the pavement where he was promptly kicked into submission by the front-liners and dragged behind the lines for the Harrisopians to arrest.

Tomas yelled behind him, his voice barely registering among the chaos: "Thanks for the assist, lads! Owe you three a beer!" while thinking to himself: it'd be a long night - he sure could use one himself.

[Riomler]

Jack foster

"He had a broken leg,3rd degree burns,and his lung was peirced by a peice of shrapnel from the explosion,but he was alive,barely but alive.He was in a hospital he was guessing was in upper magica,although the doctor looked at him with disgust,he gave him news that it would months,maybe years until his leg was usable again,and he would have to receive a surgery to get the shrapnel out of his lungs,although he wasnt lonely,He had a friend from upper magica,beleive it or not,He was a sgt in the upper magican navy,apparantly,he and him were were in a dog fight a few minutes before he attempted to kamikaze,Their friendship was a strong respect for oneanother."

[Alexiandra]

Lockbourne, Alexiandra
December 12, 2022
10am

The President sat at the head of a long, polished mahogany desk, gazing out at the cabinet ministers and policy advisors around it. There was Jack Bradshaw, the Defence Secretary, replete with his signature scowl; John Baxter, the Home Secretary, bookish and reticent; Lupe Pineda, the Foreign Secretary, his genial expression contrasting sharply with Bradshaw's; and - the most recent addition to this august collection of statesmen - Alexei Bivol, the newly appointed Secretary for the Reconstruction of Riomler. The latter man was all but inscrutable, his plain features utterly unremarkable, betraying nothing even to the most studious observer. Nevertheless, his career had been illustrious indeed. The youngest-ever graduate from the Lockbourne School of Economics, he had overseen Alexiandra's aid programme in Harrisopia after that country's civil war, with great success. Thanks in no small part to his work, the Kingdom was once again a powerful and prosperous ally for the Republic. Now Montferrat waited to hear what he had in store for Riomler - an even greater challenge, undoubtedly, than Harrisopia had been.

'Mr President, members of the Cabinet,' Bivol said, nodding respectfully to those seated around the table. 'I've prepared a detailed briefing for you on Operation Resurgence, our campaign to rebuild and reshape Riomler.' He gestured to the dossiers lying in front of Montferrat and his ministers. 'This will, suffice it to say, not be an easy undertaking. Thousands of people are already dead or dying from radiation-related illnesses, resulting in a severely degraded labour supply. Electronics across much of the country have been completely fried, leaving only a handful of military networks and backup generators intact. It has been, as I'm sure you can all attest,' - the weather outside was foul - 'an unusually harsh winter in the Alliance of Global Powers, further compounding our difficulties. We estimate that 90% of Riomlerian households are without heat, and most have no reliable source of food owing to supply chain disruptions.

'In light of all this, I propose the following. First, it is absolutely crucial to restore some form of government in Alexiandran-occupied Riomler. We must stage elections as quickly as possible in order to generate an authority capable of co-ordinating relief efforts on the ground, raising local forces and drafting a new constitution. It will be necessary to dispatch at least several thousand Alexiandran troops to ensure the integrity of the elections and defend the winners from attacks by their opponents. Secondly, we must provide this government with a - quite frankly - massive loan. We are talking something on the level of the Marshall Plan, billions of dollars devoted to reconstruction of infrastructure, repair of the electric grid, and so on. This won't be a handout - we'll be charging interest, albeit at low rates, and the loan will eventually pay for itself twice over. And that's not all: by the end of the programme, we will have a new trade partner in the east, one capable of swallowing vast quantities of Alexiandran commodities and capital investment.

'Of course, we will need to prepare versions of this plan for dispatch to the Allies - omitting any highly classified details, of course - and obtain the agreement of the Allied Control Council before we proceed. But I can only imagine that Harrisopia and Upper Magica will themselves be drawing up similar plans for their zones of control. They can hardly object if they want us to go along with those.'

Montferrat had been silent for a while, but now he spoke up. 'How long can we expect this whole process to take?'

Bivol shrugged lightly. 'It's very difficult to make a precise estimate. Our loans will be issued over the course of four years, but Riomler will be paying interest for many more years after that; as for when life in Riomler will return to normal, we can't say. We'll need to send over our best and brightest physicists and nuclear specialists to ascertain exactly how bad the radiation is, and whether it can be cleaned up.'

This gave Montferrat pause. If he rubber-stamped this plan, Alexiandra would be fully committed to the reconstruction of an entire nation, probably for decades to come. Yes, it would profit in the end - but could his popularity with the public endure in the face of such a massive expenditure? He wasn't sure. On the other hand, if he failed to act, Harrisopia and Upper Magica would be left to not only perform the lion's share of reconstruction, but also to reap the majority of its benefits.

Half an hour later, he was back in the Presidential limousine, headed for home. He had made his decision - Riomler would be rebuilt. Across Alexiandra, preparations began for perhaps the most arduous task in the country's history. Within weeks, a new government would be in place in Alexiandran-occupied Riomler, and a new future would dawn upon the Alliance of Global Powers. He just hoped that Alexiandra could bear the strain.

[The Free Fascist State of OklaTexas]

To his Imperial Majesty
Kaiser Wilhelm
Kaiserreich

Your Imperial Majesty:

Our nation stands ready to help you in your war effort. Where may we meet to coordinate our efforts?

Dr. Fritz von Totenkopf
Chief Ambassador
Foreign Ministry
GTA Vice City
The Free Fascist State of OklaTexas

[Riomler]

OCC:Tf-

[Upper Magica]

Blue Room - Imperial Palace - Aquis, Upper Magica

The Cabinet room was packed; everyone, from every department and ministry were here. The chattering ended when the Emperor entered the room. Everyone sat at attention as the wizened, regal man of 73 took his place at the conference table.

The Emperor spoke, breaking the silence.

"Gentlemen, ladies. I believe this is the first assembly of the War Cabinet since this dreadful business started so many weeks ago," he chuckled. "Thank God for the Internet and teleconferencing." The room followed suit in the old man's jest.

The Emperor donned a pair of reading glasses, leafing through the stack of papers, manila folders and reports in front of him. "I do believe our first order of business is the conduct of the war in Traldonia. Marshal Rogerio de Baez, Expeditionary Theater Commander, you have the floor."

The Marshal stood at attention, standing up from his seat to a projector screen illustrating the front lines. "Overall," he pointed to the shrinking areas of control on the map, "our Armed Forces are acquitting themselves well. Our initial expeditionary units on land, air, and sea secured important, though not necessarily war winning advantages for the combined Allied war effort." He then clicked on the remote in his hand - the screen flickered, bringing up an illustration of the Traldonian jungle. "Now that we have significant amounts of men and materiel on the front line, our Armed Forces are leading the charge into one of the two remaining strongholds of the Traldonian Army. We suspect they withdrew a great deal of their regular units under the cover of their Self Defense Militia."

The Emperor interjected - "What about the rioting?"

The Marshal shuffled the papers in his hand around. "The rioting in Onasa and other metropoles under Allied control is severe, indeed. I can only speak as to our strategy, but we've taken a laissez-faire approach of simple containment. The Traldonians will eventually realize that they themselves are doing more damage to their country than they will ever deal to us."

Dr. Franzetti, head of Analytics, chimed in from the far side of the table:
"As for the prospect of insurgency, during our inital cyber attacks on Traldonia, we gained access to a great deal of civilian metadata and TCP/IP traffic; in short, we have an all-seeing eye into their digital activities. So far, there's no indication of organized rebellion, but they are organizing protests through quote-unquote 'encrypted' messaging services and such. Additionally, we don't have the analytical capacity to sift through all of the data we're sitting on at the moment, so we don't have the full picture. In order to cover the shortfall, we've brought in our Allied partners to help us out. But, uh, numbers: 35 KIA, all Traldonian, 784 wounded, 52 of those are our or Allied casualties, and roughly 2,500 arrests."

The Emperor furrowed his brow. "Dreadful business. Go about your presentation, Marshal."

The marshal began speaking further. "Thank you, your majesty. As I was saying, Operation Fall Leaves is proceeding smoothly. Two full infantry divisions, an air assault brigade, and a battalion of the Imperial Guard outfitted for riverine and jungle warfare, supported by allied Harrisopian units are penetrating into the wetlands that transition into the jungle. At current, we've captured most of the wetlands region, though pockets of resistance remain. To prepare the battlefield for the ground and Airborne troops, our Air Force are dropping incendiary and conventional munitions on suspected enemy strongholds. We're also getting ready to bring in daisy-cutter bombs to clear out forest and vegetation for FOBs, firebases, and suitable landing zones for our helos."

"Very good," the Emperor intervened. "It sounds like the war with Traldonia is nearly concluded. What of Riomler?"

Dr. Franzetti chimed in again. "Your Majesty, our early surveys indicate large amounts of nuclear fallout over the area, of course. Our predictions indicate that the effects are... less worse than they could have been due to the air burst - on paper, at least. However, it's the snowy season. The snow and wet weather systems that the season brings are raining strontium-90 and cæsium-137 among many other radioactive elements on unsuspecting people below." He stopped to take a drink of water before continuing. "Additionally, we expect that radioactive precipitation to leach into surface and underground aquifers, contaminating water supplies for a generation - maybe two. Agriculture will be severely impacted for just as long. In short, they'll be heavily dependent, if not totally so, on food imports for at least 5 years."

The Economic and Trade Minister, Martinus d'Angelo spoke up, raising his hand like a schoolboy. "Your Majesty, we do not have enough agricultural surplus to cover the shortfall of food. Our stocks of emergency food and water supplies will run out in weeks. We could export approximately 17% of what the Riomlerians need without raising prices; 24% if we're willing to risk some market volatility in the short term until domestic production can catch up. In regard to water, importation is a non-starter. We need to get water-treatment services up and running, and that goes hand-in-hand with power. The full state of their power grid is unknown - we've never had to deal with something like this before. Pessimistically, everything's gone. Optimistically, we just have to replace a few relays, blown transformers, anything in the plants that was digital, good to go. After the question of the power grid is solved, we just have to make sure water-treatment plants are in good working order. Failsafe it, even - the technology for consumer-end reverse osmosis filters have advanced a great deal. We can, house by house - albeit it won't be a quick process by any means, install home water filtration units."

The Minister of Industry, Mariana de Jimenez-Arquette, cut in; she'd had an eager look on her face the entire meeting. "Might I add, your Majesty - our domestic industry has been chomping at the bit to get a piece of this pie. We all regard the events in Riomler as a tragedy.. but for our heavy industry, food processing, consumer and industrial electronics sectors, it'll be a bounty. The Riomlerian market has plenty of demand, but no supply - of anything, really. In fact, we've had requests from several COOs of our domestic firms: they propose we take salvageable Riomlerian heavy industry - for repairs, of course - and ship it back here in order to bolster our production capabilities. It's no use lying around there, and we a-"

The Crown Prince bolted from his chair, a furious look on his face. "By God! You and your industrialist friends are vultures circling around for carrion, indeed! This proposal is outra-"

The Emperor raised his hand. "Silence." He coughed into a handkerchief. "I find that proposal acceptable, but we will do so and compensate the owners - at fair market rate. Thus disposing with pretensions, hmm? And our recipients - they will purchase these industrial machines by specie or by credit. The Riomlerians will not exactly enjoy having their industrial base appropriated, but neither will they walk away uncompensated. On the other side of the coin, I shall not be beggared by the bourgeoisie for special favors. They are like stray cats - feed them once and they return again and again and again, expectant."

The Crown Prince was flustered. "Fa-- your Majesty -- we talk in parlance of the last century. Why not, instead of expropriating their property, simply provide the Riomlerian occupation zone with an open line of credit? Administered and disbursed by officials we appoint, of course, to avoid the natural corruption that goes hand-in-hand with the desperation of these circumstances - and I'm sure more than plenty of Riomlerians are desperate - but we should, at once, utilizing what remains of the Riomlerian civil service, assess damages and get the money where it needs to be. Of course, let's open the door for our companies to purchase idle Riomlerian machinery, but we must not expropriate at will."

The Minister of Finance nodded his head. "I believe the Crown Prince's proposal is agreeable to our financial institutions as long as due interest is paid. It would give the Riomlerians, basically, a blank check to buy all the goods they require. The downside is our industries may not get the full benefits of such an opportunity; but surely, with the leverage we would hold with these loans, they could simply move in regardless. Labor will be cheap with the depressed wages; not to mention facilities from concerns that will surely go out of business. I propose, in addition to my wholehearted support for the Crown Prince's plan, this amendment, if you will."

The Emperor took a sip of tea, brought to him by a servant. "Hmm.. less international infamy and resentment among the Riomlerians." He pondered for a moment. "Then, in regard to the recovery of Riomler, we shall accept the recommendations of the Crown Prince and the Minister of Finance, as well as those of our Trade Minister. In regard to the Minister of Industry's proposal, we shall allow for a wide berth for the purchase of Riomlerian industrial businesses, but we shall not expropriate by any means if the owners are unwilling to sell. We shall also require our Occupation government to buy as many goods and staples from the Empire as is practical." The Emperor glanced at everyone in the room, gauging their approval. "I trust this is agreeable?"

Everyone in the room nodded. The Emperor stood from his chair. "I believe our business here is concluded, then."

[Riomler]

At 2:00 in the morning people shouldve been asleep,there was chaos as 3 explosions roared,there were 23 deaths,and 49 injured,people are scrambling to find out what happened,however,there were rumors that the old king and his secret army group.

[Harrisopia]

Jungles of Traldonia
Fort Cash

Exotic plants, eerie insects and rugged soldiers. These were what the habitat of this jungle consisted of.

Wooden walls pieced together by three ironclad watch towers with each occupied by snipers, ready to blow the whistle if enemies were sighted.

One of the two final significant military strongholds for the Traldonia armed forces stood here. Inside, the last Traldonian authority, General Marcus Locke watched as his troops continued to scramble, bicker and twitch.

The General had seen many battles in his time. He had seen the horrors of war, gore and all, but he had never felt the almost apocalyptic atmosphere he could feel now.

The Emperor was dead, the Prime Minister was dead. Waves of soldiers, despite their courage and conviction, had been slaughtered. The Empire they had served their whole lives was falling like a burning building.

General Marcus watched on as he prepared for whatever would come his way.
"Glory to the Empire." He murmured under his breath.

Four miles west of Fort Cash marched allied forces. Multiple squads of Harrisopian and Upper Magican troops, determined to complete their task.

The price of war would be paid soon.

Harrisopia
Harrisopian Royal Palace
Conference Room

"Riomler occupation is a complicated situation Your Highness considering the dangers of nuclear fallout." Spoke Danielle Shepherd
"We are all aware of the dangers Minister Shepherd." Replied King Theon
"However it is necessary for us to have a presence in what is considered our control zone."

Danielle nodded
"I understand Your Highness. I just feel we should make sure to take any precaution necessary in this situation."

"I assure you that we will Minister. Your concern is duly noted."

Turning to the others in the room King Theon said
"I would like a medical centre to be established in Riomlerian territory as soon as possible. Medical aid needs to be offered to any residents we may find in our control zone as well as making sure our own people are as safe as they can be while completing assignments. This should be considered a priority."

He saw many of the officials in the room quickly note this down.

The King continued
"Once communication is secured with Riomlerian citizens and whoever they consider their most senior authority, we shall begin proposals of a loan deal with them. They won't turn it down, they can't really afford to if they wish to bring their nation back to some form of stability. Interest will be expected in the long term of course but let's wait for them to walk before they run."

Satisfied he had made his point King Theon stood up to make his leave.
"Time to get to work."

[Alexiandra]

Official Communiqué

To: The Kingdom of Harrisopia & The Empire of Upper Magica
From: The Armed Republic of Alexiandra
Classification: Top Secret

Dearest Allies,

I am assured by my military advisors that the Traldonian presence in the north of the country is all but extinct. As we speak, Alexiandran soldiers are scouring the mountains for any remaining pockets of resistance, and we are aware that your own forces have been making steady progress in the jungles and swamps of the south. In light of this, it seems an appropriate time to discuss our plans for Traldonia's future. Given that the dispute which ignited this horrific conflict was between Harrisopia and Traldonia, we think it only right that Harrisopia take the lead in constructing a new governmental apparatus for the former Empire, albeit with input from Alexiandra and Upper Magica. We would like to make the following suggestions:

1. Alexiandra and Harrisopia should annex all of Traldonia below the River Alesmonts, which connects Onasa with Tritous. Alexiandra will occupy the western portion of this territory, Harrisopia the eastern. Onasa itself will remain in Traldonian hands. As harsh as this measure may seem, we believe it is necessary to prevent the resurgence of Traldonian militarism in the years to come. It is particularly important that a buffer is installed between Onasa and Tritous.
2. Traldonia should be required to pay the mobilisation costs of all Allied nations, albeit over a period of many years.

It is clear that these arrangements do not adequately compensate Upper Magica for its sacrifices. As such, we are open to counterproposals from the Emperor regarding the reward to be obtained by his nation. This is, needless to say, a mere proposal, and can be modified as required.

Kind regards,

Harper Montferrat,
President of the Armed Republic of Alexiandra

[Upper Magica]

From His Imperial Majesty's Foreign Affairs Section
Embassy of Upper Magica to the Republic of Alexiandra
110 Embassy Road, Lockbourne

To the Honorable Harper Montferrat, President of Alexiandra, in re: tentative peace terms

In view of the costs our Empire has had to incur, both in men and material, we establish the following terms as instructed by His Majesty:

A fund to be established by the Traldonian state for those Magican men and women, both civilians and military personnel, who have lost their lives or have been permanently and/or temporarily disabled, unable to make a living as a result of Traldonian aggression. The Fund shall be furnished by Traldonian coffers, or in the absence of capital, the War-Relief Fund shall draw its funding from the expropriation of publicly and privately held Traldonian industrial and commercial assets and their subsequent sale on the open market, or some such other method as determined in the final peace agreement.

The War Relief Fund shall disburse, in the case of those killed, both a lump-sum and a lifetime per-annum disbursal to the deceased's next-of-kin or designated beneficiary according to that servicemember's insurance policy. In the case of those permanently disabled, both a lump-sum and lifetime per-annum disbursal shall be paid out.

The schedule we propose is as follows:

15 million florin per Magican serviceman killed in action(KIA)
20 million florin per Magican civilian killed
6.8 million florin per Magican serviceman permanently disabled
10.5 million florin per Magican civilian permanently disabled

200,000 florin per Magican dead, per-annum
650,000 florin per Magican permanently disabled, per-annum

We estimate the initial lump-sum cost to Traldonia, pending final casualty figures, as 43.1 billion florin, while per-annum costs for at least the next 10 years are expected to be 3.13 billion florin.

In addition, the Government in accordance with the second article of the Government of Alexiandra's proposal, recognizing the loss of economic activity spurred by the outbreak of war, as well as the damage, destruction and expenditure of military assets, hereby puts forward a claim of 56 billion florin against the Traldonian state.

The Jungles of Traldonia - Black Site 91

The Agent stood faceless in the swamp, his features covered by a chem-suit. His pores dripped with sweat; he was starting to think a pool of water was forming in the rubber boots he was wearing.

His quarry, covered in animal blood, swarming mosquitoes, and thousands of red bumps, was bound to a log. The Agent spoke up once more: "Look, I've got air conditioning to attend to, but we can do this all day. Give me the location of your garrison. This doesn't need to be hard. It's a simple question, and the more you keep being obstinant, the less of a chance you have at getting back home to your ugly little village to your ugly little kids and your ugly little wife."

The Traldonian spat to the side at the Agent. "You people have no morals. This is nothing - the pain from these biting insects pales in comparison to the pain of betraying the Empire."

"How about the pain of losing your family?" The Agent nonchalantly said, bringing up a hardened tablet with a overview of a house, its features covered by a sprinkling of snow. "The Alexiandrans have some neat satellites. Look," he pointed: "That's your house, right? I think I can see some people playing in the yard behind it." The prisoner struggled against his chains, roaring in rage. The Agent laughed. "If you don't give me what I want, we're going to watch a TV show you're not going to want to miss. It's called honey, I blew up your kids!" He laughed at his own joke, waiting for a response.

"... Fort Cash." The sullen, ashamed, and pained prisoner uttered under his breath. The Agent brought the tablet up to the Traldonian with a military-style grid map of the Traldonian jungle; the prisoner pointed. "There. It's there."

"Good. By the way, I was bluffing," he said, satisfied with his work. "You and yours are going to be Harrisopian citizens when peace is declared. Can't do that to our allies." Before the Traldonian could comprehend the shock of that statement, the Agent dispatched the helpless form before him with his service pistol.

"Too bad you won't live to see that," he uttered, walking away. He undid the hood and gas mask protecting his head and brought up a handheld radio to his ear.

It was time to make a call to the Expeditionary Force - a call that could end the war.

[Alexiandra]

Official Communiqué

To: The Kingdom of Harrisopia & The Empire of Upper Magica
From: The Armed Republic of Alexiandra
Classification: Top Secret

Dearest Allies,

I hereby declare Alexiandra's complete agreement with the terms proposed by Upper Magica, conditional, of course, upon the latter's acceptance of our own terms. Our claim for mobilisation costs upon the new Traldonian government will amount to 55 billion pounds, roughly equivalent to 70 billion florin. Once we have obtained the agreement of King Theon Jadeous' government in Harrisopia, we will circulate official treaty copies for signature by Allied representatives.

I have just received word that the last coherent Traldonian units operating in the northern mountain ranges have been eliminated by our brave special forces troops. While the threat of attack from francs-tireurs and partisans persists, this - coupled with the impending destruction of Traldonia's jungle-based troops - should spell the end of the war in its present form. Godspeed to all those who fight in the name of freedom.

Kind regards,

Harper Montferrat,
President of the Armed Republic of Alexiandra

[Harrisopia]

Official Communiqué
To: The Armed Republic of Alexiandra & The Empire of Upper Magica
From: The Kingdom of Harrisopia

I, Theon Jadeous, King of Harrisopia declare our nation's complete agreement with terms proposed by allied nations.

News of success by Alexiandran forces in their operation in the northern mountain ranges of Traldonia is met with positive reception.

The war has been costly for all involved but the end is certainly in sight.
Reports suggest Harrisopian and Upper Magican forces are close to infiltration of the last remaining enemy stronghold located in the jungles of Traldonia.
The arrest, detainment and/or elimination of General Marcus Locke, the leader of all remaining Traldonian armed forces, shall signify the ultimate conclusion of the Harrisopia-Traldonia conflict.

Kind regards,

Theon Jadeous,
Ruling Monarch of the Kingdom of Harrisopia

[Upper Magica]

From the Desk of His Imperial Majesty
to the Representatives of the Kingdom of Harrisopia and Republic of Alexiandra

The Empire accepts these terms and our Government is ready at once to sign an agreement.

Our skillful intelligence arm has discerned the name of this last stronghold as 'Fort Cash', and it is heavily fortified. Already, our forces have engaged the sizeable Traldonian army contingent there in what appears to be a last stand. All reports from the front-line indicate that the fighting is brutal, but our General Staff believes that the fighting will be over in a matter of days, if not hours.

May God bless our fighting men as they work to deliver a lasting peace to our Allied nations.


Regards,
His Imperial Majesty, Morgan VIII

The Traldonian Jungle - Near Fort Cash

The fighting here had been particularly brutal, but now more so as Allied forces arrived in force, certain of the enemy's lair. Intertwined in the foliage and trees were several trench lines, foxholes, and fortifications of concrete and steel. Mines and traps littered the 'no man's land' before that, as Imperial forces found out - the hard way.

In preparation for the offensive, transport planes and helicopters had dropped large thermobaric bombs around the perimeter of Fort Cash, clearing space for landing zones for the Magican military's fighting men and light pack artillery to be shuttled in via helicopter, while the Air Force dropped everything but the kitchen sink on the Traldonian perimeter. Now, the Knight and his battalion found himself at the spearhead once more - feet away from the Traldonian trench line, they were mustering the courage to charge in, as the deafening sound of artillery, bombs, and machine-gun fire broke what should have been the silence of the night. With the blow of a whistle, all 350 men arose, bayonets fixed to their carbines, diving into the Traldonian trenches.

The Knight slid in - barely missing the fusillade of machine-gun fire that had ripped through a few of his men - onto a Traldonian, bayonet pointed downward, skewering the ragged soldier. A few more rapid thrusts, and he lay still. The trench, from left to the right, was filled with the sounds of combat - the kind you'd hear in a medieval drama on the television, not modern by any means.

Screams, squelches, the groans of the injured and dying. Another Traldonian had finished dispatching the man trying to fillet him, and centered his attention at the Knight - a second too late, as a burst of the Knight's carbine sent him dropping. A tackle from behind and a painful impact on his lower-left back sent the Knight toppling to the ground himself; he kicked the form pinning him down, turning over. The Knight grabbed the accosting Traldonian's own canteen by its strap, and beat his attacker upward over the head. As the Traldonian staggered, the Knight took the opportunity to wrap the canteen-strap around the Traldonian's neck, applying pressure until the soldier stopped moving.

The Knight took in the sights around him as he took a brief moment to recover. The Traldonians were retreating, dazzled by the shock and surprise of the Imperial Guard's bayonet charge. That night, dozens of Imperial soldiers died in the risky close-in attack while more were wounded, but the trench lines were breached, sending what remained of the Traldonian defenders into their fortress redoubt - or what remained of it after the opening bombardment.

The Next Morning

Something miraculous was happening. The Knight couldn't believe it. The men, in their entire time here, hadn't seen anything like it.

A white flag rose over the fort, a general cease-fire sounding over the comms shortly afterward. In but a few hours, a group of three Traldonian soldiers accompanying a man in an almost-regal looking uniform approached the line, a simple white tablecloth affixed to a wooden tree-branch hanging over them.

A soldier dashed through the trenches, stopping before the Knight. "Sir, just got off the horn with Command. You're the only ranking officer physically present here. They want you to preside over the surrender. HQ already shuttled in, uh, this document. They're not willing to risk any of the higher-ups on this one. Sorry, sir." The messenger pulled out a stack of papers, shuffling through it - eventually pulling a neatly-folded paper out to the Knight.

The Knight looked at the distant delegation waiting well away from the trench line. "Bloody hell. I guess I'm the next new media darling, then." He went over-the-top, a security team following him all the way; while another person - a war correspondent - had a camera at the ready, filming.

He approached the steel-eyed General, who, despite clearly having been up longer than a couple of days, snapped his heels together and saluted as well as could be expected. The Knight sloppily saluted. "Battalion Commander Mikael Chevalier de Nouvelle-Locronan," he announced himself. "Here to accept your surrender of the Traldonian Western Military District and all at-large units of the Traldonian Armed Forces."

General Locke nodded. "I.. uh, I scribed this up-" The Knight shook his head. "We have a paper ready for you to sign, General." An aide brought up a scrap card table, unfolding it before the two, and setting a fine pen on the table. The Knight gestured. "Your endorsement, please."

The general took a brief glance, whispering. "It says here that... all Traldonian forces will come under the orders of your Allied command... and..I'm to be arrested." The Knight nodded, replying in a hushed tone. "You're a presumptive war criminal. So are all of the Traldonian higher-ups we're taking into custody. Tell it to the courts. That's how things work in our country. If you look beyond that, all your lads and lasses'll get humane treatment, and this war's officially over, meaning we can end this charade - right here, right now."

Locke reluctantly signed, the Knight following suit. A moment later, a whistle blew. Traldonian soldiers came pouring out; for a second, soldiers on the trench lines held their fingers on their triggers until the first Traldonians discarded their weaponry, holding their hands above their head in a posture of compliance. Imperial soldiers cautiously went over the top and began to organize the rabble of POWs quickly forming, while the Knight took receipt of the General's sidearm, ushering him towards the line to be collected by MPs and then held in confinement until his inevitable trial.

The Traldonian War was over.

[Harrisopia]

Harrisopia
Harrisopian Royal Palace
Public Meeting Room

King Theon Jadeous stood at the podium, watching all the audience get into their seats. It was a mixture of reporters, government officials and even some fortunate civilians who had been allowed in for the conference.
The public eye should never be obscured his Uncle had said while he was King.

Once the crowd had settled and he saw the red light flick on, the King began his speech.

"To my people of Harrisopia, I stand here today to announce the surrender of the last remaining Traldonian forces.
After strong attacks by allied forces in the enemy's final major stronghold, the General Marcus Locke signed an official instrument of surrender and was detained along with his remaining soldiers. This means that the war with the Empire of Traldonia is finally over."
Cameras flashed furiously at this, half blinding the King. Despite the many press conferences he had done in his life, he had never gotten used to the damn flashes.

Waiting a few moments for things to calm, King Theon continued
"The cost of this war has been high. We wish to commemorate all those who lost their lives during this conflict. Our grief is unmatched, our gratitude for their bravery is endless."

"Does the oil make all that worth it?" A voice shouted out.

King Theon stopped, taken aback.

"No questions!" Shouted a government official.

Regaining his composure, King Theon couldn't help but reply
"Justice for the death of Delia Campbell made it worth it."

"So the deaths of thousands is justice for the death of one?"

The King said nothing, trying to keep himself calm. He felt irritation bubbling inside of him.

He took a breath, recollecting himself. In the corner of his eye he saw the speaker being ushered out by two royal guards.

Continuing as though nothing had happened, King Theon returned to his speech.
"We must also express our sincerest appreciation to the two nations who have assisted us in this conflict. Our brothers-in-arms the Armed Republic of Alexiandra and our new ally the Empire of Upper Magica. Without their help the devastation of this war would undoubtedly have been even more severe."

He could hear the reporters scribbling notes rapidly, trying to retain every word.

"With the war finally reaching its conclusion, we can now look ahead to the future. A future which involves rebirth for those who have suffered most and sees our nation grow even stronger with new alliances.
The road to recovery for all is a long and hard road indeed. But together, we can reach its end and see a new era of peace, prosperity and brotherhood between all.
Thank you."

With that, King Theon made his leave.