Harrisopia-Traldonia Conflict

[Riomler]

what remains of the Riomler navy






"before we accept,we need to make sure you will treat us humane,please show us the man who crashed into one of your ships ,then we will decide from there







Back in Riomler






"3 way council huh?,ha, were basicly being turned into a puppet state,but atleast our people are getting help,however...we havnt been receiving contact from south riomler for a few hours,and there seem to be rumors my uncle is hiding there...raising another army.. couldnt possibly be true.. could it?












Somewhere in south riomler



Dam... there claiming there the knight in shining armour..making us seem as naz!s,,Riomler will rise again!












1,213 infentry 198 tanks 18 helis |Navy is always counted in total : 28 ships lost 1 ship MIA
Casualty count :-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Upper Magica]

BREAKING NEWS - RIOMLER SURRENDERS
Reported by the Federated Press

Celebrations broke out spontaneously in cities across Harrisopia, Alexiandra, and Upper Magica as news was released that the Empire of Riomler, a country which engaged alongside their mutual enemy, the Empire of Traldonia, in warfare on the land, sea, and air surrendered - after launching nuclear attacks on itself in an apparent bid to avoid orbital attack by Alexiandran satellites.

The celebrations in Upper Magica were offput by the release of casualty lists from the recent battle at the Tropic of Sagittarius; hundreds of sailors and airmen are reported KIA, while hundreds more are wounded or missing. Many ships are presumed to have been damaged or sunk.

In Riomler, the mood was understandably somber; the first Upper Magican ships containing humanitarian aid and occupation troops aren't slated to arrive for at least a week. For these people, there is no functioning government, and many experts worry about the death toll to come until international aid can arrive in force.

HMIS Boucanier, Tropic of Sagittarius, Int'l Waters

The Prisoner writhed in his bed. Alongside him in the ship's hospital ward, separated by armed guards, were countless others, writhing in agony. He was unlike the rest. He had inflicted the majority of these wounds to the majority of these people - it wasn't an experience many get, being treated in the same hospital as their victims.

A military officer strode into the room, phone in hand. He took a picture of The Prisoner's broken, battered, but still living body, and without a word, the officer left after recording and reciting The Prisoner's vitals and dog tags for the camera he'd held, where it'd be sent via telex to the commander of the enemy fleet, in accordance with their request.

150 feet away from the Embassy Building, Onasa, Empire of Traldonia

The moment had come. The Knight and his men were about to take, once and for all, the building that'd brought us here. And hopefully, they would be liberating the people whose false imprisonment had brought them here - alive.

Before them, armed police and militia were resisting the advance of the Upper Magican battalion. For this operation, they'd managed to snag some Alexiandran IFVs and APCs. They wouldn't risk the fight themselves though, which was tactically understandable. The Knight shouted to his men: "Alright, lads! Advance! Charge!" The IFVs and APCs surged forward through the ruined street, letting loose volleys of cannon fire on the lightly-armed group of Traldonians ahead of them, who soon broke and ran. Gunfire peppered them from the fifth story of a high-rise.

"Armored element, target the fifth story of that building at your 11 o' clock!" The Knight yelled into the radio. "Foot element, with me - we're taking the Embassy!"

They charged into the courtyard, taking cover behind the tattered brick walls - the building itself had been dilapidated over almost a week's worth of sporadic gunfire. The Knight yelled to one of the squads: "Second squad, provide security for the Armored! Rest of you with me!"

The Knight and his men kicked open the door. Shouts of "Imperial Guard!" came from the men as they scoured the barricaded building - they wanted to avoid blue-on-blue. A moment passed; and they saw a tired, dirty, helmeted figure emerge from the back of the far stairwell, hands raised. They'd survived!

The Grenadiers escorted out a group of 29 tired, dirty, hungry Upper Magican diplomatic staffers and their dependents, the Ambassador Masson, and security personnel of the Protection Service, less 12 from their attempted repatriation back home at the onset of hostilities, and less a further 4 due to the situation on the ground in the course of the siege. After piling everyone into the awaiting armored transports, the rescue party returned past enemy lines, taking with them the tattered Imperial flag that'd endured being shot, burned, and the elements themselves.

The Traldonian Hostage Crisis was now over.

[Riomler]

surviving members





Alright,youve convinced us

[GermanEmpire of kaisereich]

If you had resisted a little longer I would have joined your side.

[Riomler]

OCC:im not even sure i coldve,my nation was headed down to ruin even if i did,all my civilians would probaly be killed.

[Riomler]

OCC:someone put this in yall history class,and omg,imagine living this war broo

[GermanEmpire of kaisereich]

I had some dark matter weapons, if not surrendered, I could help in the war, throwing just one in the enemy capital, with my Kaisereich air frigate.

[Harrisopia]

Official Communiqué

To: All nations

From: The Kingdom of Harrisopia

Harrisopia would like to express rejoice at the news of Riomler's unconditional surrender and accept it with utmost sincerity.

War is an ugly affair and the level of loss it forces all to endure takes years of recovery. Unnecessary conflict only furthers this devastation.

In regards to Riomler's self-inflicted nuclear attack, Harrisopia wishes to express true empathy to all who suffered, and will suffer, due to this senseless, avoidable act of genocide.

In a show of solidarity I, King Theon, accept Harrisopia's place on the tripartite Allied Control Council proposed by Upper Magica and shall personally attend the planned first meeting in Lockbourne within the coming days.

Only through alliance can we finally conclude the war against the Empire of Traldonia and begin a new era of peace and prosperity for all parties involved in this conflict.

Signed,

King Theon Jadeous,
Ruling Monarch of the Kingdom of Harrisopia

[Riomler]

Meanwhile in Riomler


People were starving,people were dying,however,through a few hours,the radiation from the 5 bombs actually made a terrifieng creature ,as Riomler citizens looked up,they saw a beast that had to be 7 ft wide and and had wings the size of skyscrapers,The people really wanted that aid right now...

[GermanEmpire of kaisereich]

Meanwhile in Riomler


People were starving,people were dying,however,through a few hours,the radiation from the 5 bombs actually made a terrifieng creature ,as Riomler citizens looked up,they saw a beast that had to be 7 ft wide and and had wings the size of skyscrapers,The people really wanted that aid right now...

The German Empire will send a group to exterminate the creature, we will take it to a place far from the city, we will kill it and take it to our laboratories for a cure and to prevent it from becoming contagious.

[GermanEmpire of kaisereich]

Meanwhile in Riomler


People were starving,people were dying,however,through a few hours,the radiation from the 5 bombs actually made a terrifieng creature ,as Riomler citizens looked up,they saw a beast that had to be 7 ft wide and and had wings the size of skyscrapers,The people really wanted that aid right now...

The German Empire will send a group to exterminate the creature, we will take it to a place far from the city, we will kill it and take it to our laboratories for a cure and to prevent it from becoming contagious.

The Kaiser's frigate will go along to support the creature in combat, the army will arrive in less than 30 minutes

[Alexiandra]

Meanwhile in Riomler


People were starving,people were dying,however,through a few hours,the radiation from the 5 bombs actually made a terrifieng creature ,as Riomler citizens looked up,they saw a beast that had to be 7 ft wide and and had wings the size of skyscrapers,The people really wanted that aid right now...

OOC: Lol come on man. This is ridiculous.

[GermanEmpire of kaisereich]

The Killing Party and the Kaiser's Frigate, arrived at Riomler, the Killing Party fires at the creature, drawing their attention, the creature then runs towards them, and the killing forces follow the plan The Way of the Kaisereich, leaving the city , as the monster approaches, shooting rays of atomic energy, against the frigate, they take it to the forest and the Supreme Command of the Reich, allows the use of the Draken Cannon, which hits the creature causing a gigantic explosion in the forest, the creature then goes to the skies, to attack the frigate, and the frigate fires sonic missiles, which hit the creature's wing, causing great damage, then the extermination forces attack the monster's back, making him turn his back to the frigate, the frigate then fires a bomb of dark matter, which manages to suck the monster's energy, ending its life, so the frigate collects the monster's body, to take it to the German laboratories and allow a criation of a preventive cure, to avoid a possible infections again.

[Alexiandra]

City of Onasa
December 5, 2022
1pm

The acrid stench of smoke clung to Sergeant Micah Landon's nostrils as his helicopter skimmed low over the cityscape, threading its way between the skyscrapers of downtown Onasa. This had once been a vibrant, thriving city; now it was a warzone. On the streets below he could see Alexiandran marines behind makeshift barricades, watching for any signs of Traldonian activity. Long columns of black smoke rose to the heavens in every direction, and many buildings were still on fire. The great Central Traldonia Radio Station, fifty storeys high, stood battered and bruised, its glass facade shattered, belching smoke from its upper levels. Every now and then Micah spotted bodies lying on the pavement - members of the Traldonian Self-Defence Militia, most likely. This ragtag paramilitary band had stood little chance against the well-trained, well-equipped Allied troops.

Yesterday, shortly after the news had broken that Riomler was out of the war, Allied troops had completed their encirclement of Onasa to the north. Owing to the destruction of most Traldonian air assets and the chaos on the country's roads, it was believed that much of the Empire's political leadership remained within the beleaguered city. Emperor Rien II was missing, along with most of his cabinet, and the last thing the General Staff wanted was a figurehead capable of inflaming Traldonian nationalist sentiment during the inevitable Allied occupation. As such, Micah and his comrades - a brigade of airborne troops from the 101st Special Operations Brigade - had been tasked with raiding known government premises around the city. Their objective was brutally simple: kill or capture the Traldonian government by any means necessary.

Two Chinooks, one of them Micah's, paused over a wide boulevard a few hundred metres north of the Imperial Palace. Their doors opened, and the men began rappelling to the street below. Within a minute, all one hundred commandos were on the pavement. The Chinooks roared away, and the men split into two teams. One would approach the Palace head on to draw out the enemy, while the other circled around the monumental building to attack it from the rear. Micah was in the latter team.

After five tense minutes of padding through the deserted streets, scanning the windows and rooftops for hostiles, they arrived at their staging position. Lieutenant Jonas, who was leading the mission, radioed the other team. 'Striker One, this is Striker Two. We are in position. How copy, over?'

There was a moment of silence.

'Striker Two, this is Striker One, solid copy,' came the reply. 'Beginning attack run now.'

Again, everything was still. Then, from up ahead came the muffled - but unmistakable - racket of gunfire. 'Well,' the Lieutenant said dryly, 'looks like someone is home after all.'

The team started forward swiftly but cautiously, aware that the enemy might have snipers observing their approach. They were just a hundred metres from the building now, and the din generated by the firefight on its north side was growing louder. Twenty or so men paused at a low wall, ready to lay down suppressive fire if the enemy spotted the flanking maneouvre; Micah and the rest of the troops sprinted forward, closing in on the Palace's rear entrance. This was by far the most dangerous moment of the mission. If the diversion on the south side had failed, they would be mown down as they crossed the cobbled courtyard ahead. Micah tried not to think about it, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. All in all, the run took less than twenty seconds - all members of the strike team were now huddled against the Palace's back wall. Turning, they beckoned for the remaining twenty men to approach. Once everyone had assembled, they prepared to breach. The Lieutenant placed a shaped charge on a wrought-iron door and stepped back. Micah would be the first man in.

Boom. The charge showered sparks across the courtyard and sent the door tumbling inside. Micah followed, his submachine gun held aloft, scanning for targets. It was dark - there were no windows in this room, and the Onasan power grid had long since been knocked out by air strikes. The flashlight attached to the muzzle of Micah's weapon was the only source of illumination save a fluorescent 'exit' sign on the ceiling. He swept through the antechamber, checking corners fastidiously, finding nothing. The rest of the men filed in behind him, and the team fanned out into the rooms and hallways beyond. Finally they arrived at a set of stairs which would take them up towards the source of the gunshots. The Lieutenant beckoned rapidly, and thirty or so men hastened up to relieve their comrades on the north side. Micah, the Lieutenant himself and the remaining rank-and-file headed off for the command bunker under the complex.

Strangely, the huge doors of rolled steel were ajar as they approached. The men squeezed through, into a dimly lit passage littered with papers and official communiques. A light flickered in the room ahead, and each man grew tense as it drew nearer.

They made no noise as they swept into the room. It was abandoned, save for a bank of television sets - the source of the flickering - and a desk. At the desk, facing away from them, a male figure hunched forward, his features invisible from this angle. 'Show me your hands!' the Lieutenant yelled. No response. No movement. 'Show me your fucking hands!' he yelled again. Nothing.

The Lieutenant looked silently at Micah, his most trusted NCO. Check it out, his gaze said. Micah nodded and moved forward, fully expecting to come face-to-face with a corpse. But the moment he took his first step, the chair whirled around, and three gunshots rang out. The first missed Micah's head by an inch - he actually felt the rush of air as it passed his left ear. The second ricocheted off the back wall, coming to rest in Corporal Junior's thigh. The third and final shot struck the Lieutenant in the forehead, killing him instantly.

For a moment the room was consumed by the sheer cacophony of twenty submachine guns unloading in concert. The man in the chair was practically torn to pieces, most of the shots ripping through his centre of mass. Then it fell quiet again, and he sagged limply in the chair. His weapon, a machine pistol, slipped from his grip and clattered to the floor.

'Fuck!' Micah shouted. He moved forward to examine the dead man, and put another round through his chest for good measure. The face was scarcely recognisable, so Micah took out the pack of playing cards his unit had been issued. Each of the cards bore the face of a high-ranking Traldonian official. Leafing through them, Micah stopped at the most likely candidate - and couldn't believe his eyes. It was the Emperor himself.

That the Traldonian head of state, the very man who had launched this war, was sitting here in this bunker, virtually undefended, was unthinkable. Micah simply could not comprehend it. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. After all, most Emperors were little more than figureheads - of great symbolic value, to be sure, but not militarily important. Most likely, it had been the Prime Minister who had been pulling the strings, and the wholesale destruction of the Traldonian Army - combined with the confusion wrought by air strikes on communications and command-and-control facilities - had left the government disjointed. Forgotten by his scheming ministers, the Emperor had been left here to die as the Alexiandrans encircled the city, defended only by a small, loyal band of warriors. And those warriors, however good their intentions, had been amateurs, easily distracted, and lacking the technical expertise necessary to operate the massive mechanical doors that would have saved the Emperor's life.

Twenty minutes later, Micah and his team - including the Lieutenant, whose pale corpse Micah contemplated all the way home - were back on board the Chinook, bound for the Alexiandran forward operating base at Camp Judea, Harrisopia. Their quarry, the Emperor, lay on the deck, ensconced in a black body-bag. So much for 'His Imperial Majesty', Micah thought. Royals bleed just like the rest of us.

From Camp Judea, the Emperor's corpse would be flown to Tritous for handling by Harrisopian authorities. Few would believe that Rien II had posed an active threat to the lives of Micah and his men - but it was true. Micah's conscience was clean. He just hoped that he hadn't killed the next great Traldonian martyr.

[Riomler]

OCC:all right,ill actually be serious





All people were starving and the government didnt have an answer,and the humanitarean aid wouldnt arrive for a week,it had seemed like the very few people who actually survived the incedent,were not going to much longer.

[Alexiandra]

Official Communiqué

To: The People of Riomler
From: The Armed Republic of Alexiandra

We are unsure whether anyone in Riomler now has the ability to receive this message - but we will transmit it anyway, via the Internet, official diplomatic channels, radio and in the form of airdropped leaflets.

People of Riomler: we sympathise with your plight. You have been led astray by an irresponsible, genocidal tyrant whose blatant disregard for your lives has culminated in the nuclear destruction you now endure. To demonstrate our good faith, and our solidarity with the masses of Riomler, we Alexiandrans will be undertaking humanitarian aid missions to the former Empire's territory effective immediately. Alexiandran B-52 Stratofortress bombers will be dropping survival packages in huge quantities over the coming days and weeks. Each package will contain:

1 litre fresh drinking water
Activated charcoal for water filtration
Iodine tablets
Flashlight
Whistle
2x ration packs, sufficient to feed one person for a week
Firelighters
Flare gun.

The first B-52 flights will depart this afternoon, and should begin dropping their cargoes over Riomler shortly thereafter.

Rest assured that the civilised world has not forgotten the people of Riomler. In the next few days, Allied specialists will begin devising a plan for the reconstruction of the former Empire. You will not be left to die.

Signed,

Harper Montferrat,
President of the Armed Republic of Alexiandra

[Riomler]

Emporor maximus






"i thank you for your kindness and support,i hope to see you as we rebuild once great cities."

[Upper Magica]

Official Press Release in re. recent events
From the Desk of the Foreign Minister

A wise man once said "although it would certainly be shameful to celebrate the death of one's enemy, there are certainly obituaries that I wouldn't mind seeing in the papers." Such is the sentiment of our government towards the recent operation executed by Alexiandran forces that resulted in the death of the Traldonian Emperor. While we should have preferred his being brought before a war crimes tribunal, we are satisfied with the outcome regardless.

We congratulate all involved and we express our infinite gratitude on the behalf of the Upper Magican public, while we mourn for the bereaved of the unnamed soldier lost in the action.

Northern Countryside of the Onasa Metropolitan Region
997th Air Assault Brigade, 2d Battalion

The UH-1s shook as a gust of wind suddenly blew; a common occurrence in these windswept, agriculturally rich plains. The view reminded the Paratrooper of home - herds of farm animals, farmhouses, market villages dotted the landscape.

The radio crackled. It was the battalion commander. "All elements, prepare to engage. Make your last weapons checks. We're 7 mikes away, so hurry up with it."

The Paratrooper and his comrades had already checked their gear thrice over; there wasn't any sense in a fourth. All there was left to do now was "hurry up and wait".

The formation of 30 UH-1s, both gunships and transport variants, and their attack helicopter escorts shifted into a giant, spread out V formation. Ahead of them was a freeway jammed with retreating Traldonian regulars and militia formations. Some smartass began playing some Wagner from a big Bluetooth speaker system they'd looted from their layover in a small Traldonian town.

Gunfire from the freeway, he heard. The gunships began to reply with their rockets and machine gun, while the attack helicopters, much faster than the Hueys, dove, and strafed the freeway with their cannon and rockets, annihilating the Frankenstein convoy of traditional camouflaged lorries, tactical mobility vehicles, and APCs along with the - presumably appropriated - interweaved mix of civilian trucks, SUVs, and cars.

The helicopters passed over, preparing to make another run, when a volley of MANPADS fired off at the helicopters from the embankment near the shoulder of the freeway; at once, the squadron scattered, the brilliant sparks and smoke of chaff illuminating the twilight sky.

The Paratrooper held on for his dear life; he avoided looking outside, as the helicopter was turning, diving, climbing, and so on. The pilot's frantic evasive maneuvering, although they likely saved his life, didn't save the contents of his stomach from expelling themselves - the other way. He'd caught a glimpse of a gunship and transport both getting a MANPAD rocket, hurtling from the sky down to their doom. One of those was the helicopter playing Wagner; guess the Traldonians don't like opera.

As the formation readied for its second - hopefully last - attack run, the Paratrooper sighted the offending group - civilians with little more than armbands colored like their flag and old weaponry were running for cover. He sighted them with the Huey's mounted Stoner 93 LMG. With a few long squeezes of the trigger, they fell like wheat on the scythe.

With the demise of the last of the combatants here, their job for today was done. The Paratrooper pondered as the helicopters landed around the wrecks of their comrades:

How many were going to throw themselves away for a lost cause until they saw reality?

Intersection of 6th Avenue and Lion's Mane Boulevard, City of Onasa, Traldonia

The Knight yelled out with a bullhorn toward the approaching crowd of militants yelling slurs and throwing rocks at the fortified position of the Imperial Guard:

"Citizens of Traldonia, you are commanded at once to disperse! This area is an active war-zone! For the sake of-" He was interrupted by the surging of a civilian truck with loudspeakers and armed militia atop it.

"Don't listen to the propaganda of the enemy, fellow brothers! We can overtake them! For country and the memory of our Emperor! Kill the invaders!"

Oh, God damn it, the Knight thought, as the truck surged forward to ram the barricade in front of the Guard, the militiamen disembarking to fire their ancient rifles. Before it could connect, a LAW rocket from one of the Guardsmen slammed into the driver's compartment, diverting the flaming wreck into a nearby lightpost. More worryingly, the angry crowd heeded the call of the speaker, and surged forward.

The Knight made the hardest decision of his career. He yelled two words which could very well damn him, his career, and even his freedom.

"Open fire!", he yelled. The Guardsmen complied, racking their AR-10s and M60A5s and subsequently letting loose a volley of lead on the forward parts of the crowd, who nearly at once turned around and dispersed in a panic, trampling their comrades and killing and injuring yet more of them as they did so.

[Riomler]

As Riomler citizens were managing to somehow gain control of a small proportion of tv's,what they saw was not what they expected






Breaking news
Potential war crimes commited as citizens are killed in a very violent protest



The citizens look at the screens with fear,if this is how they treat them,and we supported them...how would they treat us as Riomler was sullen once again.










The MIA ship with 50 soldeirs
they have not goten the memo,They tried to contact command in the sea,gone


Begins docking on a beach and unpacking the small numbers of so called "reinforcements"




They formed a defensive perimeter with sandbags and decided to base in a nearby small cave,they wondered where were the others?hadnt they made it?

[Harrisopia]

North of Onasa, Traldonian Hillside
Harrisopian Special Forces
4th Battalion
2nd Regiment
Private Aisha Turner

The ground felt like it was melting as Aisha Turner marched along with her team.
The rain had been bombarding them for at least an hour.

Word of the Emperor's death had quickly reached most allied forces. It had been a huge morale booster for all those who were still deep in the conflict.
Despite this, his death did not mean the conclusion of the war was imminent.

Several political figures had fled Onasa before allied forces could gain a real foothold in the capital.
These political figures still had influence over the Traldonian military and needed to be brought to justice. With the main target being Prime Minister Julian Lester who had weaved many webs for his own benefit.

"How far have we got to go?" Groaned Private Turner as she removed what felt like the thousandth twig from her muddy boots.

"Just a bit further." Answered Sergeant Ashton

"You've said that about 80 times." Grumbled Turner to no response.

After walking for another 20 minutes, their targeted area came into their sight.

Reverting to a cautious pace, the team edged closer.
Connected with the verdant hillside was a bunker. Archaic in appearance, the bunker's looks would deceive. It had withstood the test of time and would take more than a knock to infiltrate.

Sergeant Ashton stepped forward, taking a calculated look at the bunker.

Turning back, the Sergeant nodded at Turner
"Turner, Ramirez, get to work."

The two soldiers pushed forward and got to work on infiltration, planting C-4s on the front.
After several minutes of working, making sure everything was right, they stepped back into cover.

Wasting no time, Turner pressed the detonator.
The roar of the explosion that followed was enough to rob most of their hearing.

After regaining composure Sergeant Ashton hurled two smoke grenades into the bunker.
Pulling down his mask, Ashton advanced forward with his rifle being brandished like a spear. Turner, Ramirez and the rest of the squad followed suit.

Inside the bunker they felt themselves descend further into the hillside as they searched for the enemy.
It took only two minutes for them to achieve their goal.

With a room in their sight the squad all opened fire, peppering darkness with bullets.

"Cease fire!" Shouted Ashton
Switching on his torch he scanned the room.

Turner saw four bodies all crumpled on the floor, completely still.

"Targets down sir." She said coldly

Ashton turned the bodies over one by one, looking at each with interest.

"Secretary Lucas Wilson, terminated. Captain Daryl Harker, terminated. Secretary Dominic Gray, terminated."
Taking a long look at the final body he turned to his squad with a smile on his face.
"Prime Minister Julian Lester, terminated."

[Riomler]

Meanwhile at the fort




"the enemy didnt seem to want to stop us as i scanned the treeline"there was nobody in those woods as far as he could see,he was anxios about what was going to happen,especially feeling the adrenaline from that massacre of a navy battle,the troops were on edge,waiting for a ambush or something.

[Upper Magica]

MV Man in the Box, The Coast of Riomler
800th Territorial Army Brigade(Infantry)

Alec sweated profusely in the splinter-grey urban camoflage pattern CBRN suit he was wearing. It was cold - bitterly so on the deck of the cargo ship that'd been requisitioned to take him and this motley crew of weekend warriors to this depressing place - but the airtight layers kept a semblance of warmth in. He saw, in the distance, a city; it looked like the backdrop of a Godzilla film. He knew big-ass lizards didn't exist in real life, but it was fun to think about. He needed something to distract him from the fact that, in his heart, he knew someone'd done this to their own people.

The ship's laborers - with civilian rad-suits donned - dropped the gangplanks leading onto the partially-restored dock, while a crane in sketchy condition lifted cargo containers with the Brigade's CBRN-rated tent facilities and equipment out of the central hold. The sergeants yelled at the men. Ferocious, though muffled shouts of "Get the fuck off! Let's go!" could be heard from probably even as far as the small port town nearby. They were going to establish a foothold from which humanitarian aid flowed to the people of Riomler - an expanding secure zone that would continue until the entire country was within its grasp.

This is how the occupation of Riomler began.

Communication to the Allied Powers
From the Imperial Foreign Ministry

We accept the summit proposed by the government of Alexiandra without further condition; in fact, we believe the upcoming summit would be a good opportunity to discuss the overall shape of the new order to come after the conclusion of the current war, as recent blows struck against the Traldonian nation in recent days have surely brought their regime to the brink. Our Government will be represented at this future meeting by His Imperial Highness Artur Morgan de Sacre-Feu, crown prince of the Empire, and Grand Admiral Honore Cesare dei Gratia Contarini, as the Emperor must look after affairs of state and the ongoing war effort. He wishes to convey his sorrow and regret that He cannot personally attend.

We also take this opportunity to congratulate His Royal Highness Theon Jadeous, King of Harrisopia, on the success of his Armed Forces in bringing more Traldonian war criminals to justice.

Where'd the 'Good Guys' Go?
Editorial by the United Magican Worker
Banned from Domestic Publication
(Article 4, War Powers Act of 1951, subsection: Aiding the Enemy, Spreading Propaganda)

This week last year, it's almost impossible to imagine that in 365 days from then, we'd be seeing the downfall of not just one, but two tyrannical regimes at the end of a violent war.

It's almost impossible to imagine that we, a country with little to no history of foreign intervention, would become part of a new regional order almost overnight by shouting 'yes' to war. It's almost impossible to imagine we'd see some of the worst humanitarian and diplomatic crises of recent history - and only a matter of weeks before Christmas, the one day a year a good deal of our population celebrates peace on earth and goodwill towards all men.

Now, in the aftermath of a nuclear war waged by and against only one country, the decimation of what was, until now, one of the planet's foremost metropoli in a sea of smoke, fire and blood as atrocity upon atrocity gets committed within and without its borders, it's almost impossible to imagine this month of the Son's birth will ever be the same for this generation and the next.

Our side has some questions to answer, as despicable as the actions of Riomler and Traldonia both have been - why did the Imperial Guard fire on unarmed protesters in Onasa? They could've just left their position behind, while, I imagine, the crowd could have scattered to their own devices? Why are Traldonian government officials and presumptive war criminals - even their Emperor - turning up dead at the hands of the Allied forces as opposed to facing their day in court? You'd certainly think they'd come up with a less lethal way of taking prisoners - unless that's not the intent.

We, the good guys fighting to prevent big, scary Traldonia from annexing Harrisopia, basically annexed poor little Riomler last night - all that flowery language the Emperor spoke about the Allied Control Council, and it was bullshit self-determination propaganda. You know and I know, whether that old bastard likes it or not - Imperial state-owned companies and the megacorps of Harrisopia and Alexiandra are going to move in and buy up everything. Made In Riomler is going to be the slogan for all our shoes, clothes, and electronics.

We, the good guys fighting for justice, are basically prolonging this war by shooting anyone capable of ordering a surrender. Isn't it coincidental that the Emperor, Prime Minister, and handfuls of other Traldonian higher-ups are turning up dead in droves? We can triangulate the exact moment that the Emperor of Traldonia takes a big, wet, diarrhea hemorrhoid-ridden shit all over his people, but we can't smoke that blue-blooded shit out with a Taser and some tear gas? Do you seriously expect us to believe that spoiled cabinet-men, used to letting other people doing the killing - and dying - posed enough of a threat to require their summary execution on the spot? Maybe if we let some of them live to face a fair trial in a impartial court of justice, no matter how grievous the charges levelled against them, the Traldonians would actually gather the balls to surrender.

The real question is, at this point - what makes us so different from Traldonia? Join the Worker's Party of United Magica today and find out the answers for yourself.

[Alexiandra]

The Julian Hall
Lockbourne, Alexiandra
December 6, 2022
12pm

Finally the clock struck noon. Harper Montferrat, President of Alexiandra, had been waiting all morning for the delegates from Harrisopia and Upper Magica to arrive. As they filed into the hall, he glanced again at the dossier before him, a leather-bound volume full of his advisors' recommendations for what was fast becoming known as the Riomlerian Reconstruction. Alexiandra's main priority was simple: prevent Riomler from ever posing a military threat again. But the way he planned to do this might face some scrutiny from the Allies. He wanted to put Alexiandran air-bases and marine garrisons on Riomler's outlying islands, which - less irradiated than the rest of the country - commanded impressive stretches of ocean between it and the Alliance of Global Powers. He also hoped to politically dismember Riomler. It had worked for the Romans, after all: divide et impera. Split into three parts, each occupied by one of the Allies, the former Empire would surely never regain its erstwhile stature. Most importantly of all, Montferrat wanted to secure and disarm any weapons of mass destruction remaining in Riomler. He remembered the feeling of dread that had settled in his stomach when the news of a Riomlerian nuclear launch had come through. He had even started dialling his wife and children, ready to say a tearful goodbye. Surrounded by Secret Service agents, he had been seconds away from authorising a retaliatory strike when satellites confirmed that the enemy warheads had exploded harmlessly (for Alexiandrans, anyway) over their own territory. This was not an experience Montferrat wanted to repeat.

The delegates had now taken their places. On each desk lay a brochure, prepared by Alexiandran intelligence, which outlined the current situation in Riomler as far as it could be discerned. Yesterday, B-52 bombers from the Republican Air Force had begun dropping humanitarian aid packages - how many of these had been claimed by Riomlerian survivors remained unclear. To all appearances, the Riomlerian military and governmental edifice had been completely annihilated. What few units remained roamed harmlessly over the wastes of Traldonia and the surrounding oceans, lacking any sort of central direction. Concerningly for the Allies, satellites had detected some signs of military activity in South Riomler, a breakaway state ruled by a forgotten scion of the imperial family. High-altitude reconnaissance planes had been directed towards the area, but would not arrive until later that day.

Having given the delegates a few moments to leaf through the material before them, Montferrat began.

'Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending the inaugural conference of the Allied Control Council. I am honoured to receive such steadfast friends of the Alexiandran Republic.' He paused for a second, receiving a sympathetic nod from King Jadeous. 'The task before us is an arduous one: the complete reconstruction of a once-mighty empire. No doubt you are all well aware of what transpired in Riomler just two days ago, but I will briefly recapitulate the order of events as we understand them. At 3.45pm on the fourth of December, our Rising-class weapons satellites commenced an attack run against military and strategic targets in Riomler. Unable to intercept the re-entry vehicles with conventional anti-air assets, it seems that Riomlerian authorities opted for a desperate nuclear strike, as if they were faced with an asteroid. Suffice it to say that their assessment of the situation was flawed, and that the ensuing nuclear detonations dealt infinitely more damage than our satellites ever could have. Alexiandran intelligence reports indicate that the civilian and military infrastructure of Riomler has been almost completely destroyed. Most of those not immediately killed by the high-altitude explosions will succumb to high doses of radiation over the coming days, weeks, months and years. We expect unprecedented rates of cancer, infant mortality and deformation to persist in Riomler for decades to come.

'The question before us is as follows: how do we rebuild Riomler? And, furthermore, how do we ensure that this never happens again? The plan I would like to put before you today has four components. First, Allied air and naval bases will be set up on Riomler's outlying islands. Here, our military personnel will be shielded from the brunt of the radiation, while also commanding the sea passage to the Alliance of Global Powers. The bases will provide excellent staging posts from which to launch humanitarian missions into the former Empire's interior, and will serve as a powerful deterrent to any lingering vestiges of Riomlerian jingoism. Secondly, Riomler will be politically divided into three Allied Control Zones, each occupied by one of the Allied powers. The authorities in all of these Zones will be answerable to this Council. We must all realise, surely, that Riomler is incapable of governing itself at present - and, given its track record, self-government presents an immense danger to the free peoples of the world. As such, it is my belief that the nation must be placed under our combined and benevolent stewardship until such a time as it is able to rise as an independent, democratic and law-abiding power. Thirdly, one of our most pressing tasks must be the location and seizure of any remaining Riomlerian weapons of mass destruction. The horror we endured on December 4th must never be repeated; never again should the brave citizens of our nations live under fear of nuclear, chemical or biological extermination. Riomler has demonstrated its inability to responsibly administer a nuclear stockpile and - in the face of the political and civil chaos prevailing there - we must take steps to ensure that weapons of such apocalyptic power are in trusted hands.

'Finally,' Montferrat said, a smile creeping slowly across his face, 'I would like to propose the establishment of a formal military alliance between our three nations. Mere weeks ago, Alexiandra and Harrisopia looked upon Upper Magica with an attitude of complete neutrality, having no real occasion to pay special attention to this most honourable and distinguished of states. But the fire of war has forged an indissoluble bond between the three Allies. Together, we have faced the combined forces of Traldonia and Riomler; together, we have averted nuclear armageddon; together, we have upheld international law and moral principle in the face of overwhelming tyranny. In view of this, and of our nations' common residence in the Alliance of Global Powers, I would like to wed our great states in a tripartite defence pact, which will be activated whenever any of the signatory powers faces military or terroristic attack from within or without - and which will oblige all of us to rally to the affected partner's aid.

'Now I have said my piece, ladies and gentlemen, and I will withdraw to spare you all any further waffle. Please, consider my offers - and as always, the Republic stands ready to consider counter-proposals.'

With an appreciative half-bow to the delegates, Montferrat returned to his seat.

[Rojovak]

As josef burgendy ,leader of Rojovak is waiting for the camra to start when the directer suddenly shouts"3 2 1 Go!"
"greetings great alliance of harrisopia ,alexandria,and upper magica,We have watched over your war from the southern seas, and studeied your way,however,it appars your nation has found peace ,but,there is still a armed unit in traldania,we respect your culture,so we ask if you allow us to capture this unit dead or alive.

[Upper Magica]

The Julian Hall - Lockbourne, Armed Republic of Alexiandra
12:27pm

The Crown Prince took in the President of Alexiandra's - and his government's - proposal, sitting next to the delegation of Upper Magican military-men, nobility, and government figures. Rather uncomfortably, he thought - some of them were hardliners, at odds with the Crown Prince's reformist ideology. Some, at the Crown Prince's insistence, were Riomlerian diplomatic and military delegates.

He'd been arguing all day before the summit with a great many people in regard to the Imperial government's war aims. The hardliners wanted, in essence, a crown colony - to make up for the lost days of the late 19th century, while other strands of that kind of thought reared their ugly head - personal union, military government, hell, even outright annexation. The Riomlerians within the group wanted all the benefits of integration and alliance, but none of the responsibilities, to say nothing of the question of reparations.

It was a sobering reminder that the Empire needed a constitution. Other elements of the Imperial family would be amenable to this kind of talk - not him. What of future generations of the de Sacre-Feu dynasty? His sire and late grand-sire both were benevolent, competent rulers - who, as per the old tradition, ruled with absolute power. It was only a matter of time before someone less scrupulous ascended the throne and ruined the nation, as Philip V, the last monarch of the de Magie dynasty had, throwing the country's lot in with the wrong side in the Second World War in pursuit of empire and influence - obviously, as the country was split in two in the present day, that endeavor had turned out disastrously.

It was with these lessons, too, entrenched firmly in mind, that he was granted the proverbial 'speaker's chair'.

"Thank you for your words, Mr. President. I should add it is a honor to attend this conference and witness for myself the beauty of this country, and my father the Emperor regrets his inability to attend. However, I did not come here to exchange idle pleasantries."

He leafed through the papers, reading through the Alexiandran proposal.

"We agree, in principle, in the necessity of an Allied political and military presence in the country of Riomler. We must, however, strive that this state of affairs not be permanent. We must trust in the superiority of our combined institutions and their ability to sway the people of Riomler to our ways of life. All of our efforts, indeed, must be aimed at diminishing the political power of the hawks and the elites that connived involvement in this war and, worst of all, the recent events that devastated their own country, and returning power where it truly belongs - to the hands of the people, who never wanted anything to do with this war. We also agree to the proposal of immediate de-nuclearization of the country of Riomler. At present, we understand the country is in a state of anarchy. Revanchist warlords armed with intermediate-range and inter-continental nuclear weapons bodes ill for the mental health of many here at this table."

"I, as Upper Magican representative, hereby propose a series of amendments to the Alexiandran plan - one, the Allied powers will strive to thoroughly investigate what remains of the former Riomlerian apparatus of government and those formerly in command of the country's military. Two, a basic constitution will be drafted - with the involvement of native Riomlerians - guaranteeing the basic human rights of the citizen under occupation that all Powers and their militaries will respect. Three, albeit supreme power will rest in the hands of the governors duly appointed in the occupation zones, the Allied powers must endeavor, where it is safe and sane to do so, to restore a semblance of autonomous self-government and provide for local elections in the occupied territories."

His own delegation looked at the Crown Prince slack-jawed at the podium. 'Elections.' 'Constitution.' 'Self-government'. From a member of a regnant Imperial house, these words were anathema to traditionalists and hardliners. The Riomlerians looked relieved, while the reformists barely kept themselves from applauding.

"We also agree to the Alexiandran proposal of alliance. Though, over the years, we have maintained a neutral unaligned position, increasing threats across the world - a world in which our influence and economic activity flows and ebbs through all corners - this position is no longer tenable. Alexiandra and Harrisopia have proven themselves amiable to the Magican people, and we stand ready to commit ourselves to the defense of their people, as they have risen in support of the defense of ours."

He stepped down from the speaker's position. The recently promoted Admiral Contarini whispered in his ear as the Crown Prince sat back down.

"You realize you've set off a powder-keg, right?"

"Wait until I ascend the throne. I expect half of these old-timers to fall dead from aneurysm."