Before the Silver Throne (IC)

[United States of PA]

Presidential Office, Presidential Mansion, Philadelphia, Federal Republic of Pennsylvania


“Mister Prime Minister, We will be quite glad in assisting your nation on the High seas. I will ask the Joint Chiefs what exactly is available for sending, and, as soon as I know, I will see that you and your government receive a wire of what we are sending. I also feel that we should also send some ground and aerial units as well, in order to further bolster your own strength in those areas. If our request to send ground troops is alright by your nation, I will see to it that we begin deploying troops as soon as safe to do so.”


---------------------------
Again, quite obvious as to what happens.

[Brehemia]

The Old Theatre, Video Conference Room

"Mr. President, your support with both ground and aerial units is a welcome extension of courtesy in the fight against the Thas threat. We will proudly accept your additional units to the fight. Of course, the choice of action for your troops is up to your Joint Chiefs of course. However, after a meeting with my advisers, I recommend that your forces attack the Thas held Mann and Jove island groups to the east of the Thas mainland. This could disrupt Thas trade in the area and provide us a base of operations for attacks on deeper Thas targets."


----------------
In a nutshell:
1. Rather obvious, we accept ground/air units for support, give recommendation.
2. Here's a map of the two island groups.
http://yfrog.com/1fdbpolitical3p

[Azazia]

[ooc]I've been a touch busy with work and all, so I have a bit of catching up to do. However, an attack against Novikov is an attack against all of Oceania. For now I hope the following shall suffice—even if rusty. And about the following, I warn in advance for the verbal styling of one character in particular. He can be a touch coarse.[/ooc]

Georgetown, New Britain
United Kingdom of Oceania

Across the Oceanian capital, church bells of all sects rang fifteen hundred. For most Oceanians, that meant tea. And while spring and fall months would see the squares and cafes blossom with men and women enjoying a respite from their work day, the oppressive heat and humidity left nearly the whole of the city craving nothing more than the cooling and comforting hum of its millions of air conditioning units.

Emil Kolar preferred coffee. True, the age of the Admiralty Building meant his office was cooled by a window-unit and so the decibels in his office were louder than those of his colleagues at the newer ministries, such as DAGERA (Department of Agricultural, Environmental, and Rural Affairs), that enjoyed quieter, more modern facilities. But, as an MP for the constituency of Sanok in Novikov—a town near enough Poldi'sk to be included in that city's tragedy—he was merely content to have electricity.

And so Kolar availed himself of the Celarian's customary teatime and drank a strong cup with just a touch of sugar and cream. The roast was a Pacitalian blend since his native preference was now nearly unattainable in the post-war era. Fortunately, Pacitalian imports were among those goods not greatly affected by the current rise in inflation. Rising scarcity for basic foodstuffs from local sources and the cost to overcome the vast distances from the nearest substitutes were forcing even government ministers to trim their personal budgets. At least for the sake of appearances. But as inflation and economic malaise pulled Celarian attention inwards, so too had it pulled Oceanian interest in foreign affairs.

The only real foreign affairs stories of note were not even truly foreign. Broadcast networks like the CBC ran human interest items on the brave and patriotic soldiers, sailors, and airpersons fighting in Gabriko. And while Kolar had visited the islands as a child on account of his family's seaside estate, he doubted that most Celarians could find the rocky islands if pressed. But that the war ground on down in Novikov meant that Kolar received daily reports of naval and fleet air arm actions in and around the theatre.

Kolar placed his mug down on his desk and flipped his wrist over to watch the second hand tick past the hour five minute mark. He shrugged his shoulders and slumped back into his seat, resolved to check the latest news on the CBC website. He browsed the politics section; the advantage to being a minister was that he could often times avoid sessions in the Commons where the opposition railed against government ineptitude. Especially when it concerned matters outside of naval affairs.

After some forty minutes, Kolar checked his watch again. But before he could have his aides make enquiries, the very phone number he had been waiting to see appeared on his caller-id. The head of the NOKF was late. And within two minutes, Kolar would understand why.

One Hour Later
Carriage House, Georgetown

"This is fucking fantastic news," Howard Robertson shouted across a modern-looking table, his spittle spraying across the military brass before him. "I do not give two shits about some little toy boat of yours, General. Especially some Novie junker scrounged from the slag of Poldi'sk's skyscrapers."

Major General Thomas Winters, Chief of the Imperial General Staff, opened his mouth to speak.

"Oh, I am not fucking done with you, yet, General. That you and those seaman—and yes I am making a pejorative sexual insult about you navy twats—", Robertson added, quickly scowling at the Royal Navy's highest ranking officer, "can manage to so clusterfuck up this mess, well, I find it hard to believe that your men can find the fucking bars of soap in their showers."

"But, I will spare you and your tarnished brass friends the full and proper bollocking you rightly deserve because, thankfully, this is, as I said, fucking fantastic news." Robertson turned to the head of the table and Prime Minister Ashley Thomason. "For you see, Madam Prime Minister, the Tories have been stroking themselves all nice and hard because of their own economic ineptitude that they are transferring to you. But, because these fuckheads here let a torpedo sink a Novie ship, I say we ram this torpedo up that tight, Tory asshole until we pop their bollocks." Robertson looked back at the head of the Royal Navy. "I will refrain from insulting your seamen here, Admiral."

"Now what we need to do," the chief of staff for the Prime Minister continued, "is make sure this type of cockup is not fucking repeated. Now, I am going to leave the strategy for that in your aged and wrinkled hands, gentlemen, because I am going to have to make sure that the Oceanian people do not become so fucking incensed about your fucking incompetence that they castrate you publicly on Wellington. So you go wage a war with your little boats and planes and I will wage a war in the press. And you shall have the public support you need, Prime Minister, to support the Novies in prosecuting this war."

"But for fuck's sake," Robertson groaned, turning his view to the other end of the table, where Ladislav Kopecky was video-conferenced into the meeting, "make sure your little minions understand well and clear that if something else goes to fuck like this again, I will have their aides flayed alive and use their bones and skin to fashion a little boat of my own. And I will then travel in that little boat myself down to Poldi'sk and then tear apart the bodies of your little minions to make a boat for my trip back. And I really do not want to have to do that, sir, because 4500 kilmetres is a real long time to sit in a boat. Assuming that one of you naval twats in attendance here can make sure it is not fucking blown up by a fucking nation of only-slightly-less-inept seamen."

"But, now, if you will all excuse me, Prime Minister, I have to go and turn their fuckup into a useful political opportunity for you." Robertson glanced at Thomason as he stood and gathered his papers and folders. She smiled warmly and nodded, dismissing her chief of staff.

When the security door clicked shut behind him, General Winters banged his fists on the table. "The nerve of that little shit—"

He was interrupted by Thomason, whose grin turned into an icy stare. "General, that little shit is the man who will keep this incident from being a blemish on the armed forces of the United Kingdom, in both Celaria and Novikov."

Suddenly, the door swung back open and Robertson's bald head appeared once more. "One more thing, Prime Minister?"

"Go ahead, Howard."

"Premier Kopecky," he said, addressing the leader of Novikov, "I know you are addressing the press tomorrow. I have already called your office and rescheduled your announcement for dawn, your time. I am timing your statement to reach the largest number of live viewers throughout the United Kingdom. And I guarantee you that your broadcast will reach beyond just Novikovian shores. For if anybody wants to broadcast anything in the United Kingdom, they have to broadcast your press conference."

"And before you do, do not thank me, sir. Consider this thanks in advance for your operatives doing all they possibly can to turn around your sagging poll numbers. Because if your party fucks up in the election, I will personally go down to Poldi'sk and—" A knock on the door interrupted Robertson's speech. An aide passed Robertson a folded piece of paper that he quickly read.

"Well, you get the idea, Premier." He offered a broad, warm, and friendly smile to everybody in the room. "It turns out that they have a problem over at Alicia's ministry. I have to go rip her womanly balls off now and fix the fuckup." He quickly turned about and before the door clicked shut again he offered a farewell to the assembled leaders of Oceania and Novikov. "Cheeri-fucking-o."

Thomason smiled. "Howard said all of that far more eloquently than I could ever hope. Now, what I need from you, generals and admirals," she said, addressing the assembled heads of the national Oceanian armed forces and those of the Novikovian self-defence forces, "are what exactly you can do about this situation." She turned to Winters. "General, shall we start with you?"

The Following Day
HMNB Zvolen, Zvolen, Novikov

Throughout much of the United Kingdom, the bases and stations of the various branches of the Oceanian armed forces had been quiet for years now. Training and security remained a constant hum and so prevented apathy from turning into atrophy. But broadly, the muscles of Oceania had not been flexed for quite some time.

Except in Zvolen. The Novikovian action in Gabriko had injected adrenaline into the Royal Navy's largest base in the region. While Georgetown was willing to allow the NKOF the glory of what had been expected to be a quick and easy victory over rebel forces, a significant portion of the inglorious patrol and support operations were handled or assisted by UK forces out of Zvolen.

Following the Carriage House meeting, word was despatched from the Admiralty to prepare the expeditionary forces for overseas operations in Brehemia and to raise the Defence Readiness Level to Condition Red: a full-fledged conventional war in an overseas theatre. And while snap polls indicated broad, but still firming, support for a war against Brehemia and its allies, Thomason had decided to allow the Novikovians to handle the immediate conventional response.

Sir Edward Rice, commander of the Novikov Station, was tasked with cleaning up the mess and marshaling a joint Oceano–Novikovian response should the initial Novikovian response prove, the middle-aged officer smiled as he reread the orders, "prove unconvincing", he spoke aloud.

"Beg pardon, sir," his aide enquired, raising his ginger head to the mutterings of his commanding officer.

"Nothing, Geoffrey, nothing at all." Rice finished rereading the orders and then looked over at his aide. "Have we heard anything at all from Georgetown regarding a proper declaration of war?"

"In a manner of speaking, sir," the aide replied. "The Prime Minister has gone to see His Majesty and offer him her advice."

"Ah, we have reached the formality stage."

At that moment, another aide quietly entered the office. "This, sir, just came through." Rice accepted the document and read the brief note.

"Operation Blue Aster is a go. Good hunting," he read to the two officers present. "Very well, inform the squadron and flotilla commanders."

Within the hour, mooring lines were cast off from two flotillas each of destroyers and corvettes docked at Zvolen and across the strait in Prostejov. One flotilla of each sailed south to bolster the NKOF forces operating off Gabriko, allowing the Novikovians to pull whatever naval forces needed away from the troublesome archipelago. The second group of ships sailed north, ensuring a clear path out of Novikovian waters and bolstering those Novikovian warships patrolling the region's northern waters.

Meanwhile, the 2nd and 7th Royal Marine Expeditionary Forces quickened their steps, loading essential supplies onto the assault ships that would form the core of the Royal Navy's response. Thousands of Oceanian marines were recalled from leave and made ready to ship off to Brehemia. At the two main naval bases in Novikov, Zvolen and Prostejov, capital ships started to see swarms of sailors scurrying about. Closer to Celaria, from northern bases such as Ikahawere, Henyhaven, and Newcastle to southern bases in Bathurst, Rietendam, and Nassau, corvettes and frigates sailed to cover the sea lanes linking Celaria to Novikov while cruisers, dreadnoughts, and carriers warmed up their idling reactors and power plants. And while RAF bases launched more patrols, Royal Navy air stations put up special flights from Belgica, St. Bedric's, and Kremnica to sanitise and secure vital sea lanes into and out of Celaria and Novikov.

Two torpedoes had wakened a sleeping giant. And while Vice-Admiral Sir Rice began to oversee the massive cogs of the giant machine, little dials were also turning. Prime Minister Thomason had also issued classified orders to the special forces units of all branches of the Oceanian armed forces and those of Novikovian self-defence forces. Heretofore, Brehemia had never been considered a threat. Nor even had South Thasland. And so redirecting the mass of the armed forces would take time to achieve. But, pinpricks against the communication systems, intelligence networks, military-industrial infrastructure, and even the supply lines of Brehemia and its allies, while ultimately small, could make the Oceanian punch that much bloodier.

[Almajoya]

Almajoyese International Intelligence Agency
Ichi-Chiimu, Darkohm Conflict
Northern Border, South Thasland

Having been fully prepared beforehand, the pair of Land Rovers rolled out of the cargo plane and sped out toward their specified destination. The first of the three teams sent to monitor the quickly-growing conflict in the Darkohm Basin had landed in the unclaimed territory just north of South Thasland. From their landing point, they would make their way into South Thasland to monitor the conflict from there.

The heavily-modified Land Rovers were mostly equipped with communications technology, though there were a few weapons on board- mostly handguns and a couple of automatics- for defensive use if the need for defense arose. They were venturing into a potential war zone, after all.

These particular vehicles had been chosen because they could handle the various types of terrain the teams would be crossing, yet looked entirely nonthreatening. The point of the exercise was to gather intel, not to get involved or attempt any takeovers. The nation of Almajoya had zero imperialistic aspirations; they just tended to be curious about the rest of the world. Still, it was unlikely that the leaders of South Thasland, or Brehemia, would appreciate the Almajoyese presence within their borders, so the teams would have to be stealthy.

The lead Land Rover was actually the one bringing up the rear. Senior Agent Solomon Ishi had been put in charge of the Thas leg of the operation. The middle-aged man spoke into the communicator, while trying to ignore being jarred by the less-than-smooth ride. "Zion, this is Malakhim, confirming touchdown of Ichi-Chiimu. Claro?"

"Claro," the base operator replied almost instantly. "Patching you through to Seraph and Gabriel now."

---

AIIA, Ni-Chiimu, Darkohm Conflict
Northwestern Border, Brehemia

Another pair of Land Rovers, identical to the first, landed a bit later in more unoccupied territory just shy of the Brehemian border. Satisfied that the arrival had gone according to plan, their leader, a slightly older agent named William Kogan, alias "Angelo," also submitted a preliminary report to his top bosses. There was not much to report on at the moment, as they were just making their way into the country, but protocol was protocol, and Agent Seraph had fired agents for much smaller oversights.

The toughest part of the plan would be remaining undetected as they crossed the border. The teams had maps and had chosen the least populated or closely watched areas, according to their determinations at least, but there would be no telling what was actually happening at the border until they got there. As far as anyone could see, there was nothing happening in their particular area yet. Of course, they'd soon find out for themselves.

---

AIIA, San-Chiimu, Darkohm Conflict
South Beach, Danic Gulf

What had originally been a courtesy mission quickly became the most important of the three Almajoyese teams. During their flight in, San-Chiimu had been rerouted three times to avoid being spotted, until finally their plane had just taken the long way around and approached from the southwest. The war had started in the Gulf, but due to the nature of the conflict, the AIIA had not expected it to stay there for long. The entrance of several extra-regional powers had changed that expectation.

The cargo plane landed at what Senior Agent Nicole Janigan had calculated was a safe distance from the beach, far enough to avoid being noticed by any parties who might have been monitoring the area. From there, the little convoy had proceeded to set up as close to the shore as they could safely manage, setting up camp amid a bit of brush. The spot gave them a considerably good view of the largest ships with the naked eye, and allowed them to monitor the proceedings above and below the surface using the equipment they had brought. The team was also hoping to intercept the communications among the different parties, as long as they were not too heavily encrypted.

Once they were comfortably in place, Janigan also checked in via the comms, and the rest of the agents immediately went about completing the setup of the equipment. They had apparently missed a great deal of sudden changes in the war during their trip over, and were eager to start catching up.

---

Empress' Office, Sanctus Aidenn
Jade, Almajoya

Agents Seraph and Gabriel had made a point of being available at the teams' expected times of arrival. Ichi-Chiimu and Ni-Chiimu had sent in their first reports on time; San-Chiimu's did not arrive until several hours later, but that had been acceptable, since they had had to change routes so many times.

Agent Gabriel, or Randall Braxton, had a small iPad-like device in his hands, and was seated across the desk from his superior. Agent Seraph- the Empress- was otherwise occupied; she was making up for a missed lunch with a pair of chopsticks and a bowl of Cup Noodles.

"All right," Randall said. "We've got Malakhim reporting not much on the north side, and Angelo saying the same on his end. That matches the records we've found on our own so far. Looks like most of the mess is contained within the gulf."

Melisma sighed, then very slowly turned her attention to Randall. "Then it appears that Raphael's position is of the most importance at the moment."

Randall glanced up. "'Raphael'?"

"Yes, Randall. Janigan."

"Oh." Randall looked back down at the device in his hands. Melisma did not miss the note of contempt in his voice. The Darkohm mission was Janigan's first as a team leader; because Melisma had insisted on appointing her as a leader, Randall had countered by placing her on gulf duty. Melisma had not argued with that, and then had graciously refrained from boasting when San-Chiimu ended up having the most important job.

A few seconds of silence passed. Melisma took another bite of noodles, then broke the silence with, "And what exactly is the report?"

"So far, it looks like the brunt of the engagements are happening in the north and near the Terrebeau coast. That's considerably far north of San's current position, and Janigan has already requested permission to travel further up."

Melisma frowned. "That would require them to cross into an as-yet uninvolved country, which I was hoping to avoid."

"I would not recommend granting that request."

"Of course you wouldn't, Randy. You're biased."

Randall scowled, which fortunately went unnoticed or ignored by the Empress. "Losses?" she inquired after another helping of noodles.

"None since San's arrival, but it's early yet. Looks like Novikov lost a corvette and Brehemia lost a sub some time ago, a Terrebeau fleet has fired on a Thas sub, a Dinosian convoy was attacked, there's a Novikov trade route being raided, and that's just what we've picked up on so far. There are a host of subs and ships up there."

"That's to be expected. There are a host of nations getting involved, each for their own reasons." Setting the chopsticks aside, Melisma lifted the Styrofoam cup to her lips and drank the remaining soup. "This could end well, but more likely, it will end very badly. Prepare all of our records on the conflict to be reviewed in the near future. Also set up a backup team to ship out to San-Chiimu's location should they request help. Shelve Raphael's request for now."

"Yes, my Lady." Randall sounded more or less content with the instructions; not that could protest them. "What about the possibility of losing one of the teams? That could get us involved in the war itself."

Melisma sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'd really prefer to not consider that possibility at this moment."

---

The Rundown
-Ichi-Chiimu is approaching the northern Thas border; Ni-Chiimu is attempting to enter Brehemia from the northwest.
-San-Chiimu is in place in the unclaimed area south of the gulf. This team can see what's happening in the water and pick up on communications among the ships unless the messages are heavily encrypted.
-San-Chiimu requests permission to move farther north; the request is ignored.
-Backup is being prepared to support or protect San-Chiimu at a moment's notice. If they're detected and fired on, Almajoya may consider the attack a war crime.

[Novikov]

Parliamentary Hall
Poldi’sk, kraj Poleskí, Novikov



The video conference left Ladislav Kopecky with a sick taste in his mouth. The Novikovian statesmen intensely disliked Mr. Robertson on the Prime Minister’s staff. So vulgar, and crude – who did he think he was talking to? He may work for the Novikovian Premier’s superior, but Premier Kopecky was still Premier, with over three billion Novikovians behind him. Couldn’t the impetuous little press jockey see that?



Still, he had to be dealt with. Kopecky was an ambitious man, despite his somewhat often soft-spoken demeanor, and there were advantages to staying on Mr. Robertson’s good side. Advantages like the scheduling of an international broadcast, rather than the provincial dealings Kopecky had sway over. To be seen by all the United Kingdom as a defender of the peace, the face of a new friendly Novikov, would have its advantages. Perhaps even a cabinet seat in Georgetown would be in his stars if this conflict went well. So he would hold his tongue and consent to Mr. Robertson’s press conference, but he would not forget the brash words and indignity of tonight…



Immediately after the conference ended, while the black screen was still fainly himming, the Premier shook his head. Turning, he faced his young aide Yevgenny and smiled knowingly at him. “Mám toho plné zuby.”

Eight Hours Later

Premier Kopecky ended the press conference in much better spirits than the night before. He had managed to steal away fro five hours of desperately needed sleep before the conference and had awoken feeling refreshed for the first time since the conflict began. Even the presence of so many reporters shouting at him in all matter of Oceanian languages - English, Kauiangan, Atrean, Spanish, and Russian alongside his native Slovak. As a Novikovian, Kopecky was accustomed to a level of mistrust and even hostility from native Celerians, but the questions had been neither as pointed or scathing as expected. Did the Premier authorize the deployment of NOKF ships to a potential warzone? Yes - but only in the interest of protecting the grain shipments bound for Celerian ports. The recent sinking of a Novikovian freighter proved this was the correct course of action. Why did the NOKF act without the support of the Royal Navy? Novikovian assets were deployed to suppliment Royal Navy patrols, and were operating in conjunction with the Royal Navy. Please address all further questions to Mr. Kolar at the Admiralty, thank you.

The Premier did his best to avoid these dangerous questions, always stressing his governments cooperation with the Oceanian ministries in all matters. In an hour the conference had come and went. The most shocking announcement was the planned deployment of more Novikovian ships to the region. The Premier would not - in fact could not - as what ships would be sent to the Darkholm Basin, but he did hint at an "assembling fleet in northern Czechzenia," alluding to the gather carrier group in Miroslav. Royal Navy assets would be deployed to Gabriko Sound, allowing NOKF ships to concentrate in the north. Everything else was of little substance, always returning again to the politically-correct notion of inter-Oceanian cooperation. He declined to mention that, from his seat in Poldi'sk, this plan of action looked much less like cooperation and much more like Novikov would have to finish what it has inadvertently started.

---

Approx. 240 km west of Terrebeau

Novikovian submarine P-301 broke contact quickly after her firing run. She dove deep and fled south for half an hour at 36 knots. After a brief pause during which her sonar took scope of the situation, she elected to turn south-west and continue to break contact, detecting a hostile submarine in pursuit. The slow moving submarine was little direct threat, still some 70- km distant, but could pose a problem if P-301 tried to circle back to strike the convoy a second time. So the captain ordered a course change and headed away from the convoy, using his speed advantage to give the hostile sub a wide berth. After several hours of running, the submarine surfaced and relayed information on the convoy's course, speed, and escorts beck to NOKF headquarters.

The NOKF command ordered the P-301 to break contact and head south, seeking enemy merchants expected to be in the area. The other three submarines were ordered to approach within 150 km of the convoy, where they would use their surface-search radars to launch a coordinated missile attack on the convoy, rather than trying to press closer and risk being attacked by the escorting submarines. This attacked, planned for 23:30 local time, was carried out in a disciplined fashion. All three submarines silently approached from the north, raised their periscopes, and at the appointed time activated their radars. From such a distance, many of the Dinosian ships were beyond detection range, but a line of escorts was well within reach. The detected ships, numbering six in total, were targeted each with four cruise missiles. The launch was done in rapid succession, with all 24 cruise missiles launched within two minutes. Then the submarines turned north as one and dove, creeping back north and out of harms way.

Summary: Press conference to confirm what Azazia said. My other three subs launch their missiles at the Dinosian convoy from 150 km out, targeting some Dinosian escorts. 24 missiles coming at six ships. Your move Dino.

[Dinosians]

This time the entire fleet was ready. They picked up the Cruise Missiles as soon as they entered sensor range. The Koumori ships and Wynn ships opened up Anti-Missile Fire on the targets. Thankfully the previous attack had left all ships on high alert for the remainder of the trip and all ships were unharmed as one of the missiles went awry and missed a Frigate. The ships continued on while the Submarines, now rejoined by the pursuers, formed a formation 50km around the convoy. They were approximatively three hours from their destination and as such doubted that there would be anymore attacks.

Laoudine, Dinosian Capital
Then it is agreed? We will deploy a Mercenary division to Terrebeau. They will assist in the ground war. As such we will not be issuing a formal declaration of war. The Prince and CEO said. The Board nodded in agreement. Very well dispatch the 14th Mercenary Division!

14th Mercenary Division
The 14th was loaded up into several transport planes. They would be flown in to avoid any attack by submarines as reports of attacks on the convoy had arrived earlier. Approximately 10 Aircraft and 2,500 troops were being deployed.

OOC:

2,500 Troops
10 C-10 Minotaurs

-----
In Short:
-Ships are all safe from harm after attack and are to dock soon.
-Ground troops dispatched by air to assist Terrebeau