The War in the West [IC, closed]

[Ostehaar]

The Atnaian succession crisis had developed into a war between Ventlimer and Ostehaar. With Ventlimer's fleet far away from home in the Mesder Sea and within striking distance from Atnaia and Franco-Albion, the timing for the allies from the north - Vancouvia and Ostehaar - Was right. Ventlimer was to be punished for its treachery and deceit...

---

Main government hall, Porohare, Ostehaar
February 9th

It's been several minutes since Prime Minister Dorias had left the meeting room to answer an important call. The atmosphere was tense - Nine ministers and Five generals sat in total silence and gazed around, waiting for a final decision.

The Prime Minister stormed into the room and didn't even bother to sit down. "Well," he began, "the generals here have been quite clear in their optimism, and most of you around this table voted for taking action against Ventlimer as soon as possible." He took a deep breath and exhaled, "I've just spoken with Dihn and Alex, and both of them told me they would have voted for taking action as well. This pretty much settles it... We're at war."

The meeting then took off on a different direction, with the generals leading the discussion about specific military plans and suggestions. "Our goal is clear, friends," Minister Dulikh said after plans of invasion were mentioned, "we are not going to invade Ventlimer. It can be helpful if they would think we are, but that is not the goal. We should concentrate our efforts in terminating Ventlimer's intervention in Atnaia, destroying their fleet in the Mesder Sea, and clarifying that we will not stay quiet for killing our agents and going boldly against the coalition." Prime Minister Dorias nodded slowly in agreement.

Eventually a strategy was formed. That night, an airlift of planes, armament, and cargo began pouring from Ostehaar to Dashgrinaar, located less than 300 kilometers south of Ventlimer and right next to the supply routes for Ventlimer's fleet. Simultaneously, Ostehaar's only escort-carrier sailed westwards, accompanied by its battle group and another flotilla of missile ships.

• 40 fighters in two squadrons (20 F-21s and 20 F-15s)
• 12 attack drones (Hermes-900)
• 5 Pave-Hawks
• 300 Airborne commando operatives

• The Aserger Legacy-Class escort carrier flotilla -
  
  • 20 F-21s
  • 15 helicopters
  • 8 patrol boats
  • 4 missile corvettes
• A separate flotilla of 12 missile corvettes
• 300 Naval commando operatives

---

To: Vancouvian congress and military
From: HQ of Operation Northern Lights on board The Aserger
We have began taking action against the nation of Ventlimer. Aerial forces are being sent to bases in Dashgrinaar; Naval forces are sailing westwards and will arrive close to Vancouvia in less than a day. Further information on deployment and operations will be transmitted soon as well. As always, we would welcome your assistance and support.

---

OOC thread
Currently this thread is open to Ventlimer, Vancouvia, Atnaia, Covonant, and Franco-Albion. All others - Please don't post in this thread. Also, refrain from posting OOC questions and remarks in the thread - That's what the OOC thread is for.
Map - Ostehaar and allies in blue; Ventlimer and allies in red; Other places mentioned in black

[Vancouvia]

Vancouvian Capitol Building, Vesuvius

The usual hive of activity had winded down and a wide blanket of silence had fallen over the 25 Senators of Vancouvia. Each recognized this hour as a turning point in Vancouvian history. Shall Vancouvia head directly to war? Shall these two dozen men and women send likely hundreds or thousands to their deaths? The consequences of their decision was on the forefront of their minds. It stirred within them, churning their hearts and thoughts.

Henry Mayfair, the oldest and first Senator, slowly walked up to the pulpit and began: "It is not our place to interfere in the wars of others. Must I remind my fellow Senators that there exists no formal alliance between the Osters and Vancouvia? We cannot afford at this time to engage in a war against hostile countries. These are not gangsters and thugs of an international district; these are bold and firm navies and air forces and divisions of men. Let us align ourselves now with Vancouvia, for that is who we serve."

At the conclusion of his monologue, a great degree of clamor rose up from the chamber. "We serve freedom!" sang Emma Dean, standing to her feet. "And we cannot serve this ideal in our nation alone. Freedom is not isolated to our country. We cannot shutter ourselves from the world, sit in our own isolated state, surmise what would have been done had we done the right thing. It is time now to do the right thing, the only thing, the just thing. It is time now to rise together and stand for the ideals we claim to hold so dear."

Again the Senators struck up into fierce conversation. Mayfair's dove faction had grown quieter, though, still putting up a fight but sensing the tide turning against them.

"Go bold and true," quoted Horatio Macaro from the national anthem. The Senators stopped their yelling to hear what the young, usually quiet Senator from Illa had to say. "It is these words that strike me now as great truth. Vancouvia is not a nation of isolationists. It is a nation of compassionate, hardworking, empathetic people. I am proud that I today am able to call myself a Vancouvian." He paused his slow speech and looked around the wide, circular room. "We have proven that we are a nation that looks outside of our borders to do good. You all have proven that with your aid work in my homeland; we all have proven that with our operations in the International District; I ask us all to now prove that once again. We must defend Ostehaar. We must go bold and true."

Contrasting with the earlier speeches, the room was now silent. Eyes darted at Horatio as he took his seat and gently fixed his tie. His quiet and steady demeanor had stilled the room. Mayfair and the rest of his compatriots looked confused and somewhat angry, knowing that it would be impossible to change course.

"I call a motion to declare a state of war between Ventlimer and Vancouvia, and to support Ostehaar and allied efforts against the aforementioned nation," said Arnold Yates.

"Seconded," shouted Eva Driscoll, raising her hand in the air.

"Third," rang Jiao Wan.

The motion carried. Each Senator then picked up their voting devices and placed their vote. After a five minute period, the screen flashed the list of votes, showing only Mayfair, Mallovich, Hawkings, and Pinto against. 21/25 Senators had cast their vote for war; the 75% super-majority was met, and Vancouvia was now in a state of war.

Within the next hour, with little debate, George Pastel was once again voted unanimously as Active Speaker. He immediately sent out orders to the generals in the field, specifically General Storm, commanding the navy to join with Ostehaar forces at Yorkford, then move west. In addition he sent notices to Coalition nations to ask for their support in matters described in the charter.

DECLARATION OF WAR AGAINST THE REPUBLIC OF VENTLIMER

WHEREAS the belligerent nation of VENTLIMER has attacked, without reason or provocation, soldiers, intelligence personnel, and military equipment of OSTEHAAR;

WHEREAS there exists between OSTEHAAR and VANCOUVIA a series of agreements, notably a joint stake in the COALITION of FREE NATIONS;

WHEREAS the nation of VENTLIMER was also a signatory of the COALITION, but used the trust and goodwill of the COALITION to engage in traitorous and cowardly attacks;

WHEREAS the nation of OSTEHAAR has, for our history of relations, acted to no detriment of VANCOUVIA;

WHEREAS the nation of OSTEHAAR has, in no uncertain terms, requested the military aid of VANCOUVIA, in order to combat VENTLIMER aggression;

WHEREAS we wish for PROSPERITY, FREEDOM, and EFFICIENCY;

THE FREE LANDS OF VANCOUVIA IS HEREBY ENGAGED IN A STATE OF WAR AGAINST THE REPUBLIC OF VENTLIMER

[Ventlimer]

In the War Room far below the Palace floor, President Sebastian Gloyd sat calmly as his generals screamed at each other, blaming each for the lack of preparation for this. In the center of the room sat a large digital screen with a map of the Isles displayed on it. Now, instead of Atnaia, it was centered on the seas surrounding Ventlimer. No allies were near, no friends could aid. They were alone, their fleet was far away, and they had nothing but planes and 10,000 combat troops. All were on high alert and the 2 destroyers and 5 of both Frigates and Corvettes, adding to the 10 other Rizal class corvettes, were all that stood in the way of a Vancouvian fleet and a Oster Armada. This was driving the generals mad.

"Gentlemen, will you just calm down!" One by one they did, and the President sighed. "Look, no one expected the Vancouvians, of all people in the Isles, to declare war. And, if anyone is at fault, it is I for authorizing the aid to the Asorists. Now, if we may continue like the professional soldiers I know you are, then maybe we can survive this war."

They all calmed down after a bit. "Now," Gloyd said. "What can we do right now?"

"Well," one general said, "we can start by attacking Atnaia's fleet, with Covonant's support. Shouldn't be too difficult. Will also make sure Atnaia doesn't try to join the war."

"What of Franco-Albion?", another general asked.

"They were going to attack us anyways," another offered.

"Fine," said Gloyd. "Do that. But what about up here?"

"Surely we can hold off a couple planes and fleets with all our firepower here," The Air Marshal David Brentlin said.

"So, we have nothing?," Gloyd asked, frustrated.

"No, nothing but to wait for them to come here."

"Great. Send orders to that bastard Birthmire and send word to the Covations that we need them."

[Atnaia]

There was a muffled, concussive whistling, and the missiles lanced upwards and away from bases along the Atnaian coast. In bunkers and bases across Atnaia, military personnel had been tracking the Ventlimian ships, coordinating strikes, preparing for the attack. Pilots of the Atnaian Air Force were already preparing for takeoff. The plan was simple: the land-to-sea missile defenses of Atnaia would pummel the Ventlimian ships, distracting their anti-air defenses long enough for the Air Force to perform hit-and-run bombing strikes while the Navy got into position. The plan relied on the Viper squadrons to do most of the heavy lifting until the Ventlimians were softened up, at which point the navy would take over. The HRHS Duke Attington was already prepared to act as anti-air and anti-missile support for the bombing runs, with the HRHS Onyx, the HRHS Topaz and the HRHS Asterion gathered to provide back-up until more of the fleet could arrive.

On the tarmac at AAFB Trenton, Barber and Zigzag went over their final pre-flight checks. "Brandy and cigars when we get back?" Barber heard over his radio.

"Last one to sink a Ventlimian gets the drinks," Barber confirmed, going over his final checklist.

A few moments later, the flight began to take-off. They shot off into the cloudless evening skies, the land of Atnaia disappearing beneath them and giving way to rolling waves only occasionally dotted by islands. Then, the Ventlimian ships. Around them, the land-to-sea missiles from Atnaia began their descent towards the enemy. Barber adjusted course and shot down for his first run against the ships.

"Fangs out," he said. "Let's go!"

The flight swept down for their first pass, their bruisers spiking down towards the enemy ships. Meanwhile, the naval ships began moving into range to the south.

[Ventlimer]

Birthmire sat in a chair on the bridge of the Nublet, one of the Global Class destroyers still near Atnaia. It has only been a few hours since the strike on the tiny vessel, and now countries were raging to war. He nervously shifted, lost in thought, and stared off into the distance as officers worked around him. Suddenly, alarms started blaring and he jumped instinctively as officers started reporting.

"Sir! Missiles coming in from Atnaia! Defense systems activating!" The blaring noise of the alarms sounding general quarters filled his head. Birthmires heart pounded ferociously as the trackers came on screen. One by one, intercept missiles launched from the frigates and destroyers. Missiles began disappearing off the screen as each missile was hit. But still, the inevitable few got through. 4 of the corvettes were hit, sinking 2 and seriously damaging the others. 2 of the frigates were also hit, both destroyed. A final missile hit the Cross, a destroyer, in the rear, damaging it severely.

Birthmire sighed. "Ok, now-"

"Planes coming in for a run!"

Again, the missiles fired, but there were only a few left after withstanding the barrage and losing 2 frigates. The planes made their run with near impunity, destroying two more frigates and hammering the Cross, targeting it's bridge and missile bays. In a glorious explosion, the Cross was nearly torn in two as a missile fired from its bay just as a bruiser hit it. In almost an instant, the 900 million dollar vessel began to sink into the shallow waters. Out of missiles now and having lost 3 to intercept missiles, the atnaians went back to refuel and reload.

"Fuck, get us out to sea!"

"Sir, atnaian fleet from the south!"

"Hit them hard!" Birthmire fumed. "Hit them with everything we have and high tail it to Covonant!"

"Aye sir," the officer said.

With that, a barrage of missiles shot up from the destroyers and remaining frigate. Once fired, the ships pushed away from Atnaia in a full push away from the coast. "Fire again as soon as ready! Hit their land based missile sites and hit that fleet again!"

"Aye, sir!" Another volley of missiles fired as they neared the end of their missiles.

[Covonant]

The Speaker of the Senate Selonius Glaber, summoned an urgent meeting in the consul. All 75 members of the Senate arrived around 10 pm to discuss the Union's involvement in the war. Senator Petro Selinis rose and gave his views on the country's involvement.

"I am in total disagreement with our country giving support to a nation that we have credible evidence, that shows that they were the aggressors, are we a nation not built on the principles of what is just. I advise the honorable body to see to it that we stay out of this matter, it will destroy our image here at home and abroad".

The Prime Minister then rose to interject at the remarks of the honourable senator.

"This situation is one we have to assess properly, we can't allow for emotions to override our judgement. The Union and Ventlimer have an unwritten code that transcends boundaries. It is not a matter for this house to decide whether we will give support. It is my decision as Head and Commander of our Armed Forces. We will support our allies at whatever cost".

This motion by the Prime Minister has created a great divide of ideas among the senators even those that are members of the party he leads. The Prime Minister knows such rhetoric and moves could cost him a victory in the 2017 elections should he seek reelction.

The session at the Consul ends. The Prime Minister is escorted by to Palatine Manor to board the Crow which will transport him to Devios City, Devios for a private joint meeting with officials from the Ministry of Defense (Maxmum), The Intelligence and Data Centre (IDC) and generals and admirals of the Navy.

The meeting commence with all invited individuals in attendance.

"I have given Ventlimer my full support, and I wish for our fleets to begin mobilizing to the north of the Union near to the battleground to provide both defensive and offensive support" ordered the Prime Minister.

Rear Admiral Comodore of the Union Navy expressed "I can order a fleet to be mobilised within the hour Prime Minister and arrive at the site in a couple hours, seeing they are not so far from our shores".

"Get back to me immediately with the numbers and types that will be sent, ASAP Admiral".

The Head of the Intelligence agency received a call while the meeting was in session.

"Apologies, Prime Minister, I have just received confirmation that the Ventlimer forces have engaged contact with Atnain forces, they have lost a few vessels and are making there way to Kanaute for refueling and repairs. They request we make to the site post-haste".

The Admiral returned with a report which he handed to the Prime Minister.

It reads

Fleet of the Union, for support to Ventlimer
1 Missile Cruiser (GCC1-Jueverna)
2 Amphibious Assault Ships ((UCS Elite, and UCS Sharoni)
4 Destroyer
1 Grand Class aircraft carrier (UCS Dominion)-Leading

With that the Prime Minister gave the orders to mobilise its fleet to the site.

A few miles away from Devios City, Devios the ordered fleet begins mobilising from Eaglet Naval Base, in Kanaute, Devios. The Union has officially entered the war.

[Atnaia]

Barber and Zigzag shot back up after their first few runs. "Fucking A, we took out a destroyer!" Zigzag radioed.

"Correction, I took out a destroyer," Barber said, watching the ship sink down. "Crap! SAMs hot!"

Below, the Ventlimian ships opened fire upon the Atnaian naval forces and bases on the coast. Anti air measures targeted the planes above. The HRHS Duke Attington's air defense and anti missile systems fought back. As the smoke cleared, several Atnaian missile bases were rubble, and the HRHS Onyx was beginning to slip below the waves, lifeboats deploying, as it's demolished bow began to take on water. The Duke Attington herself had taken a glancing hit, but the damage wasn't enough to bring down the Type-45.

"Black Dog is down! Poncho too!" came Zigzag's voice on the radio. To the right of Barber, the smoking tails of a pair of Tornados descended down towards the water. One skipped once upon the waves as it's wing spiraled away into the surf, and it sunk into the sea. The second popped its top and a parachute could suddenly be seen above the wreckage as it barreled downwards like an Olympic diver and was swallowed by the foam.

"Poncho didn't punch out," came Frings' voice. "We don't have missile support from the land, either."

"Ventlimians are hauling ass out to sea," Barber replied. "Let's do another sweep. Give 'em hell."

The squadron broke right and swept down towards the retreating Ventlimian forces. "Bruisers free," said Zigzag, and the squadron's rockets slammed down towards the ships. Without waiting to see the results, the squadron shot up and pulled 180s, circling back to get out of range of anti-air defenses.

[Ventlimer]

"Sir, they're firing again! Just a couple bruisers."

"Intercept?"

The officer was quiet. "Tracking, tracking, hit! Both missiles down."

"Good," Birthmire said. "Casualties?"

"The Cross had 500, the corvettes a total of 200 lost, and the frigates each had 100. A total of 1,100 if all are dead and assuming the two corvettes sink before we make it to Covonant."

"God damnit," Birthmire breathed. "Get the men off those corvettes, then sink them." Birthmire stomped out of the cabin. "We'll get them for this, boys."

[Franco-Albion]

"Ayes to the right," cried the Speaker, addressing the Members of Parliament. There was a slight bustling and murmur of voices. "Nos to the left." An awkward silence fell across the hall of Parliament. Only a few hours ago, a great debate had begun between the four walls of the main hall of the Franco-Albion Parliament - the centre and powerhouse of national politics. Members of Parliament, men and women representing the people and voices of their nation, had gathered to listen, argue and counter the most demanding issue of their time - neutrality. Mere hours before this session commence, members of the nation's security branches had been pounding through the halls of Parliament, as meeting after meeting had occurred - all discussing the alarming movements of Ventlimer's military.

In the days before, numerous ships and aircraft from this northern powerhouse had been tracked entering Mesder Sea, the great body of water that surrounded Franco-Albion's northern and eastern shores. The sea was the nation's bloodline - her source of wealth through resources and trade. For many years, she had enjoyed bountiful riches cross these seas, all in the idyllic niaivity of so-called 'peace time'. Franco-Albion never sought to gain enemies, as she could also afford purchase their neutrality through trade and economic progress. However, it was becoming abundantly clear that this era would soon come to an end. Now would be the time that the people would be put to the test - with Ventlimer's aggressive incursion into the Mesder Sea and the beginning conflict with her allies - would they truly accept peace at any price? Lose sovereignty over her seas, but remain at peace - or stand by her neighbours and risk it all?

The murmuring continued to crescendo, right up til the Speaker stepped back forth to the microphone, scrap of paper in hand. For a moment, there us a sudden silence once again, Ministers on both sides of the cement and pine-clad room holding their breath.

"Hear me now, hear me now. With two-hundred and twelve, the noti-", she paused, clasping her dry throat gently with her hand. ".. the notion is carried forward."

A great ruckus of cheers began that echoed down the halls. The notion had passed. Franco-Albion, for the first time in nearly a lifetime, was riding to war.

Within moments of the notion passing, phones throughout the backrooms of Parliament were ringing off the hook. Some junior ministers speaking to loved ones or colleagues, some more scrupulous individuals were arranging the price of selling their story to the papers - yet only one of these calls would change the course of the nation's history forever - a message to an innocent and quiet building on the eastern coastline.

[Covonant]

The fleet from the Union, has left Eaglet Naval base in Kanaute, Devios. Under the Command of Rear Admiral Petronius Comdore, the vessels makes there way north-west of the Union to the battle site where confirmation came in of the defeat the Ventlimians have faced by Atnaian forces.

The Rear Admiral is aboard the UCS Elite (Amphibious Transport Dock)

"Full speed ahead to the site. See to it that we put our destroyers on the line for offensive measures once site of Atnain vessels is contacted." Ordered the Rear Admiral.

Lt. Wilkis had just been notified that Ventlimer fleet was embarking towards the Union, they were headed in our direction.

"Rear Admiral, with your permission to approach, I bring critical information." the Lt. expressed

"Granted" the Rear Admiral implied.

"It has been confirmed that the Ventlimians has received great damage from the Atnaian forces. They are heading towards Kanaute. We are on the same path. It is expected we will meet upon them in less than an hour if we stay the course." the Lt. insisted

The Rear Admiral, now puzzled by the news, requested from his men to be on the look out for the Ventlimian vessel.

"See to it that once contact has been made with the Ventlimian vessel, gather information as to fleet numbers that remain at the site. I will formulate a plan once I have knowledge of the area."

The Ventlimian vessel has been spotted by The Union's Navy, a signal is brought forth beckoning on the vessel to initiate peaceful engagement.

[Ventlimer]

"Admiral," The officer said. "Covonation fleet is signaling."

"Radio them and command the fleet to come about. If they have extra armaments, we would be appreciative."

"Aye, Admiral."

It had been a few hours since their encounter at Atnaia, but Birthmire's blood was still boiling. They had lined up to evacuate their team, not attack Atnaia! Regardless, it was war. The president had just called him and told him to regroup and attack. This time it wouldn't be so bad for the fleet, but they could expect the Albionians to participate this time. That meant more planes.

"Oh well," he thought. "Least we can kill them."

---

In Ventlimer, President Sebastian read over the reports. "Well, damn. 1100 Dead? 9 Ships lost? Why the hell did Atnaia attack at all? Don't they know We'll just come back and deal with whatever's left of them?"

"Yes," Alex said. "But they also have Franco for the next engagement."

"Ok, so it might be equal footing."

"Might? We literally bought our destroyers and best fighters from them," Wirthland said, who had just joined them from a conference room down the hall.

"True." The president thought for a moment. "Let's call Henry. Set it up Alex."

Alex hurriedly dialed the number and transferred the call to everyone in the room. Each picked up their phone. The president waited for the ring.

[Vancouvia]

Base Mouette, îles Du Soleil, The Pacific Peace Union

Captain John C. McKinley woke up from his beach chair nap to the sound of an all too familiar voice over the radio. "John, we need you back at Base, over."

Picking up his towel and snack basket, John started the long walk back to his Mouette, wishing he had thought to bring his bicycle. The rough dirt road threw mud onto his vulnerable sandals and he realized he had to double time it if he wanted to not keep his CO waiting. John knew of the impending war; he had read the paper and had even got a few inside details from Command, but he had thought that his leisure time in Soleli was sacred. He was wrong. His F-15 was already being fueled and prepped on the airfield.

Yorkford, Vancouvia

The Ostehaar fleet had reached Yorkford and the Vancouvian fleet had merged with it, like two interlocked hands. The entire Vancouvian navy, save the VS Bartholomew, VS Jude, and VS Simon had now struck a course southwest towards Polar Svalbard, hoping to refuel until a final push could be made towards Trapoli and south from there.

General Harold Storm commanded the ships aboard the Washington. He ordered the Yukon drones to begin patrol routes of the nearby sea in conjunction with VEO's satellite coverage, in order to have a full perspective of the waters around him. On board the carrier and destroyers was approximately a thousand VSF and VNA combat veterans of the I.D. conflict. Storm knew that a concentrated strike, supported by good information, would be the key to this war. Settling in for the voyage west, he ordered a lieutenant to set up a chess board and to "not go easy" on him this time.

[Atnaia]

Alex hurriedly dialed the number and transferred the call to everyone in the room. Each picked up their phone. The president waited for the ring.

The phone clicked. "Hello," came a man's voice, sounding worn down. "You have Prince Henry. Before we get started, I want you to know that the decision to attack your fleet did not come lightly. Your support of Asorist rebels in our lands is considered an act of war. Any and all incursions into our waters will be viewed as signs of hostility, and will be given no quarter. We are willing to discuss matters as they stand, we have no wish to enter into further hostile encounters with Ventlimer or her allies, but will do so to maintain defense of our nation in a critical time."

[Covonant]

Rear Admiral Comdore invited Admiral Birthmire aboard the Covonantian Vessel. The two are familiar with each other as they have worked on prior missions before the war. Clearly seeing the Ventlimer Admiral in dismay and anger at coming to terms with the defeat from the Atnain forces and the death of his men, Comdore expressed his sympathies on the events.

The two Admirals begins to discuss of possible ventures that could be explored to see to it that there is minimal casualties and destruction to remaining fleets.

"I think it is best that we do either two things Birthmire. If my Intelligence serves me correct, Atnain forces have left the battle site to refuel and repair. We could do a pre-emptive strike on the Atnain coast taking out its naval and military bases that are along its coast and draw them out to sea to finish them off. I reckon they are tired already, why not tire them out some more. I could gather my fleet to have a battle from the air. Though we might have Franco-Albion to deal with that may provide quick reinforcements. My second best option is to focus on Franco-Albion, Atnaia already stands battered and can be defeated once my fleet deploys on her. But Franco-Albion is stronger and I fear they might provide reinforcements to Atnaia thus compromising my plans."

Lt. Wilkis who was among the two Admirals with permission gave his input.

"Admirals, if I stand corrected, if we should attack on Franco-Albion it will cause great casualties and loss in our equipment, but if we can lessen their manpower, and attack critical bases and naval sites along its eastern coast we may have a upper advantaged in the Mesder Sea".

Admiral Comdore nod in agreement with the Lt. "I believe my men are ready for an attack on Franco-Albion, let Atnaia rest, they will need it for later. We can change our course and instead of going straight to Franco-Albion, we could venture North of Covonant and around Deep Haven and go towards the South-East of Franco Albion. We move post haste, with you supporting of plan".

[Ventlimer]

Alex hurriedly dialed the number and transferred the call to everyone in the room. Each picked up their phone. The president waited for the ring.

The phone clicked. "Hello," came a man's voice, sounding worn down. "You have Prince Henry. Before we get started, I want you to know that the decision to attack your fleet did not come lightly. Your support of Asorist rebels in our lands is considered an act of war. Any and all incursions into our waters will be viewed as signs of hostility, and will be given no quarter. We are willing to discuss matters as they stand, we have no wish to enter into further hostile encounters with Ventlimer or her allies, but will do so to maintain defense of our nation in a critical time."

"What I ought to do is blow your military back to kingdom come," the president said calmly. "You didn't contact my fleet, you didn't ask why, you didn't ask anything. You took the word of another nation. However, yes, I'll admit that it was an ill guided decision that has unintentionally caused extremists among the asorists to act irrationally. However, I assure you that the ones my men dealt with were very concerned about civilian lives. Their new allies are disappointing, to say the least. As for the attack, I lost 9 ships and 1,100 men. If you had called me before listening to Wessich and his puppets, then I would have informed you that they were waiting for my agents to leave your ports. But, you didn't. This is why I was finding the asorists. Your weak aristocracy and your willingness to bend to men who you cannot control will always lead to bad decisions. But, here is one that you should try to do well by- let my fleet enter your waters and give us any survivors of the attacks."

[Atnaia]

"I took the word of a trusted ally of the state, which was proven by your own government's admittance to the fact that you were supporting hostile rebels who just killed, I will remind you, no less than 20 civilians using a bomb you apparently provided them. Furthermore, you just admitted your involvement to me just now. Also, you attacked those same allies in my waters with no warning. As far as I am concerned, that was a public declaration of war, and any action my government took following that moment was justified as defensive.

"I don't know what Duke Thomas Wessich has to do with this situation. Ostehaar and my intelligence services have nothing to do with the former Minister of Defense, and your nation's constant discussions about him raises some intriguing questions regarding your own intelligence operations. Yes, I have heard about that little slip of the tongue at the coalition. That being said, I am not interested in further hostilities. Leave the Mesder, go back home and deal with affairs in your own house before you try to clean up mine. I will be more than happy to provide you any survivors of our conflict, but I will not allow you into my waters with any armed ships. Instead, I propose that I send unarmed, civilian transport ships with said survivors to an agreed upon location in the Mesder, with a small armed escort of patrol vessels and and a single frigate...much too small to make any sort of assault on your forces, as a show of good faith. You will gather your wounded, we will both retreat to safe distances, you will go home, and we will all sleep without spilling more blood. You were not the only one to take losses...the missile bases you destroyed alone contained almost 1,000 people, all of whom are dead or injured, not to mention the crew of the Onyx and further casualties aboard the Duke Attington and my airforce. A total of almost 1,100 losses on my side as well."

[Franco-Albion]

In the dimly lit room, a single, crimson phone rang - its bells echoing in between the four walls of the small, wood-clad room. The phone continued to ring, vibrating loudly against the desk as it attempted to wake up its owner, who was fast asleep with his head resting against folded arms. Groaning loudly, the sleeping man started to wake, blinking his bleary eyes around as he located the source of his rude awakening. As his eyes adjusted, he attempted to move his tired hands towards the phone, knocking it off the desk in the process. Muttering a quiet curse, the slumbering man bent down and pressed the screen with his thumb. Placing the device against his ear, he answered.

"Nichols here," he mumbled. "What is it?"

"Is that how you always address a superior officer?" replied the voice, a slight lick of sarcasm to his tone.

"Oh, give it a rest Peters." He rubbed his eyes with his fist as he rose to his feet.

The voice sighed. "Where exactly are you?"

"I'm up top," he begun. "I just needed to get some fre-"

The voice interupted his excuses. "Whatever the reason, you'd best get down here. Now."

"Yes ma'am." He mocked a salute - not that they could see him - and made his way out of the room and towards the end of the corridor. The room around him looked old, abandoned. Or, perhaps, it appeared to look so. Reaching the end of the hallway, he stood in front of a old looking door; a small, faded symbol of an eye etched into the wood. After a few moments of fumbling in the dark, the stubble-faced man pressed the centre of the eye with his thumb. After a few moments, the door slid away, revealing a well lit and clean looking interior of a lift. Stepping inside, he punched several buttons into the console and faced the door as it closed. He rolled his eyes as the familiar lift music began to chime above him as the lift began to descend. Looking down at himself, he brushed some of the dust off his uniform; a vain and half-hearted attempt to smarten himself.

Eventually, the lift ground to a halt and after a brief moment, the doors opened. Nichols grimaced as the familiar cool, but stale air lapped his face. Stepping forward, he emerged into a large room, lined with numerous monitors displaying various screens of data - each station manned by a well dressed young man or women in the familiar dark blue uniform of the nation's air force. He gently glided forward a few steps as his eyes adjusted to the dark, red glow of the room.

"And just where do you think you've been, Captain?" The shrill, but pleasant voice echoed from above - the same voice he had heard minutes before on the phone. "Never mind ... Just get into the intel room, Nichols. You're going to need to see this."

Shrugging, Nichols scratched the back of his brown-haired neck. "Best not keep the lady waiting Nichols ..." He was on the move once again, passing row after row of monitors before reaching a gloomy office doorway. Placing his hand on the handle, he opened the door and boldly entered.

[Ventlimer]

"Very well, Henry. No more blood from Atnaians. Deliver our wounded 40 km southeast of your nation where 4 of my corvettes with white flags flying will accept them. Until next time, Henry."

With a click, the president hung up the phone. "Suggestions?"

Alex put his phone down and sighed. "We could just pull out. Franco hasn't done anything yet. We don't really have reason to attack him. Besides, we need those destroyers to fend off attacks in the north. Hell, it might be a good idea to contact Ostehaar now, stop this before it gets bloody."

"On the other hand," the secretary of the navy started, "we could attack Franco-Albion and weaken him for when we inevitably return to the Mesder. We would take serious losses, I'm sure, but short losses for a weakened Franco? I'd do it."

"Only because you are a fool," Withland said, glaring at them harshly. "Do none of you think of the men? The men who die on our order? We don't even know how well the attack will go! Plus, we are in the midst of negotiations that have so far been unaffected by this war, but would be if we attacked them!" He looked to the president. "Sir, I must beg you to pull the fleet back. Even if they can't make it here in time to help, they can be saved from destruction."

Gloyd was silent. Wirthland was not known for his compassion, but here he was adamant. "Call them back. And tell Covonant that their actions and support are noted and will be greatly rewarded, starting by the reimbursement of deployment costs for their navy. Inform Birthmire and get him home."

---

Birthmire read over the orders carefully, then carefully folded them up, his blood boiling. "Pull back," he thought. No one had seen this message but him. Still, he handed the orders, which had a short explanation, to the Rear Admiral. "I've been ordered back. 'Threats in the North' they say. Cowards in the palace, I think it is."

[Covonant]

Pvt. Johnson rushed to the command centre of the fleet just in time before Admiral Comdore could respond to Birthmire.

"Permission to approach Admiral" Requested the Pvt.

"Granted" the Admiral responded

"News from Covonant, we are ordered to return, and to send Ventlimer on their way. I bring news from the Prime Minister".

The letter is handed to the Admiral. It reads:

FROM THE OFFICE OF THE PRIME MINISTER, THE UNION OF COVONANT
Admiral Petronius Comdore, it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that the Consul has blocked all my orders. You are required to send the Ventlimians back on their way and return to Eaglet Base, post haste. Do assure the Ventlimian Admiral and Commanders, that this in no way impedes on our nations' friendship. The Union looks forward to establishing stronger ties and lasting relations for time immortal.
Imperatus Marl, Prime Minister

"I must apologise Birthmire, but it seems the Union has been opted from the war. I am ordered back to Kanaute. But should assure you, that our nation relation will only grow stronger from here. I wish you victory in the end".


With that the Admiral escorted Birthmire, back to the Ventlimian vessel, and gave the orders to return back to the Union.

[Ostehaar]

The 69th fighter squadron was the first one to get settled and combat-ready in Dashginaar, and according to plan - Also the first one to see combat. A pair of furtive Hermes-900 drones were deployed to scout the seas east of the coast every few hours, covering hundreds of kilometers in flight before returning to base. On the evening of February 11th they have detected the remaining ships of Ventlimer's fleet heading north, staying on the western side of the sea between Ventlimer and Polar Svalbard.

"Two destroyers?" general Vehn repeated after the young captain who informed him of the approaching ships. "And five frigates, sir," the captain added, "seven ships in total heading north from the Mesder Sea. We don't know if they're damaged or how armed they are." The General stroked his beard as he thought.

"Good," he finally said as he turned to face his deputy, colonel Sterner, "it seems the time has come... Let's do this. It will take another day-or-two for the 109th squadron to arrive, but this is an opportunity not to be missed... And our enemy has probably very few of his firepower left now."

"Sir," said colonel Sterner, "are you sure of this? We don't really know the status of those ships... They may very well be armed to the teeth."

"Yes, I'm sure," the general replied firmly, and survayed the other officers in the room to make sure he has their attention. "Gentlemen, let's blow their ships out of the water!"

---

One after another, 20 F-15s took off eastwards, breaking the fragile silence around the airbase in Dashgrinaar. Altogether they were armed with 120 Maverick missiles and carrying the most sophisticated navigation and targeting equipment the Oster electronics industry could produce. Disappearing into the night sky above a sea which resembled a black plateau, all pilots could quickly detect the batch of enemy ships sailing northwards. Soon they themselves would also be within the enemy's defense sphere. The board is set... The pieces are moving.

In Ostehaar's first act of war against another nation since the 1980's, more than a total of 16 tonnes of explosives were launched at the seven ships. With each and every launch, the fighters recoiled, as if the release of the extra-weight reflected the minds of the pilots now getting rid of all mental blocks... Yes, they were about to be responsible for the death of maybe hundreds of sailors, not long ago they were in the same coalition.

The jets were well within the ships' defense sphere as they launched the missiles and quickly turned away, knowing a barrage of anti-air missiles was probably being hurled at them. back in the base, general Vehn and colonel Sterner stood in silence with their anxious deputies and offices, waiting, hoping to see all pilots back alive. Perhaps they've wasted all their missiles, the colonel wished.

[Ventlimer]

On board the VNS Trepid, Captain Crelk jumped out of bed as alarms blared. Just as he did, the whole ship seemed to lurch and smoke filled the air around the small fleet as missiles fired from all 6 of them. He ran to the bridge, passing sailors in blue fatigues as they quickly manned their stations. He ran to the bridge, where Lieutenant Bradley was manning the radar.

"Sir," Bradley yelled as soon as the captain appeared. "We have 20 bogies that just fired a shit load of missiles. We've returned fire."

"Expected time of impact?"

"50 seconds," Bradley said back.

Crelk took his seat and watched the readings on his screen. "Have we fired intercept missiles?"

"Aye, sir, last few firing now!" Bradley looked down at his screen. "There's just too damn many of them! Impact in 5, 4, 3-"

"Brace for impact!" An officer yelled into the ships comms.

All at once, the bridge of the Trepid was blown away as Vampires rained down on the fleet. From the deck of a frigate trailing a little behind the rest of the fleet, the scene was only of fire and smoke. Missile after missile fell from the sky, and, with several large explosions of fire and metal, the Trepid was obliterated. Another 3 explosions damaged the destroyer Mercury, but she still stood tall and upright. The other 4 Frigates Were not so lucky. In this single strike, 2 were destroyed in an instant, a third took 2 hits before dying, and the last took a hit to the engines, stopping the Frigate dead in the water, which it then began to take on.

In all, 895 crewmen died in minutes, never having seen their enemy.

---

The minute the attack happened, the secretary of the navy brought it to the attention of Sebastian.

"Sir, we practically just lost our fleet from the Mesder. Only the Mercury and 2 frigates are left and the Mercury, though damaged, is towing one of the frigates."

"Fuck, where did they come from?"

"Dashgrinaar, sir."

"Fuck. Tell Birthmire to double time it."

[Franco-Albion]

"Have you seen this Nichols?" guestered a ginger haired female officer, glancing over at a brightly lit television screen. The images shown varied between images of burning ships and members of parliament cheering. "Whilst the politicians in Isenburg play with their papers, Vent's getting their arses handed to them." Slightly bemused by her statement, Nichols attempted to straight-talk to the base commander.

"But Ventlimer's had it coming to them. They've been trying to extent their influence for a while an-"

The red-head was having none of it. "All the while, they thought they'd be unopposed when entering Mesder."

"But ..." began the young officer, "... but didn't Atnaia see them off?"

She grunted. "Yes, but that should have been US seeing them off!"

There was a sudden knock at the door.

"Enter!", she barked aggressively. A young, doe-eyed airman entered the room, gripping a tablet computer in his hand.

"Ma'am, latest reports from EXCOM. Clear Sight has been monitoring a new development."

Composing herself, she thanked the young airman and glanced at the screen. "Looks like we have more knights gathering around the table ..." Both Nichols and the airman looked at each other, exchanging confused looks.

"Get a message to Sturmvolk. Give them a green light for a Stalker Op."

Giving a quick salute, the airman clipped his heels before leaving the room.

---

RCAFB Sturmvolk, East Franco-Albion
~20km West of Danover

The remnants of the morning dew slipped off the wings, as two Puriels strike fighters crept onto the airbase's single tarmac runway. Inside the lead aircraft, were two experienced pilots of the Franco-Albion Air Force; Squadron Leader Jake Emmings and Flight Lieutenant Erin Carter. Moments earlier, the pilots had been rushing into their aircraft as message came through from Fighter Command. With the increased escalation of events in the Mesder Sea, they had been ordered to commence a Stalker Op - an operation to shadow hostile or unknown forces. The identified forces were the Ventlimer fleet, which had engaged the Commonwealth's ally, Atnaia, earlier that day. This would be a highly risky operation for the two aircraft, who would not be armed with offensive weapons - save for the few JAMM and JAMM-ER air-to-air missiles and the array of sensor pods and equipment. If they ran into trouble, their best bet would be to deploy countermeasures and high-tail it out of there. After an agonising wait, there were given the clear from the tower to take off and begin their route out into the Mesder Sea.

It wasn't long into their flight, once the mainland was far out of sight, that the first readings began to come through. With Emmings in control of the aircraft, it was Carter's job to analyse the incoming data.

"Well," she sighed, "looks like command was right. The V's to the North took a beating, but this fleet seems relatively unscathed." Using her finger to flick across the touchscreen monitor, she examined the series of 3D images being processed. "Though command got their numbers wrong, there appears to be only ... nine? Yes, nine ships left."

"Really?" puzzled Emmings. He wasn't one to question his young protege, but the pilot equally wasn't one to second guess data from Command. "You'd best get on the blower then. Command will want to know."

As she started relaying their findings to headquarters, the two Puriels continued to shadow the remnants of the Ventlimer fleet, still ever cautious about a possible counter-attack - however unlikely that was.

-- Commonwealth Armed Forces -- Maneuvers Update --
5th Squadron - 6x Sariels on maritime/coastal patrol. East Franco-Albion
6th Squadron - 2x Puriels on reconnaissance. Mesder Sea.
11th Squadron - 1x Ambassador R1s enroute to meet with patrols. Mesder Sea.
13th Squadron - Balam on standby - Anti-Ship Loadout. West Franco-Albion.
15th Squadron - Troop/freight logistics. North Franco-Albion.

[Ostehaar]

Perhaps they've wasted all their missiles, the colonel wished.

They haven't.

Lieutenant Lehna Fihner was one of the most gifted pilots in the Oster Air Force. When she was 18 she couldn't come to her high school graduation party and celebrate with all of her classmates, because she was busy studying for the final test of her bachelors degree in aeronautics. She finished it summa cum laude and went straight on to flight course, demonstrating one of the steepest learning curves in the program. "She belongs to the sky," her proud father said after she was sent to Dashgrinaar, when he looked at a picture of her reading a book in the family's small garden, smiling.

That night, Lehna lead the five F-15s of flight B of the 69th squadron to their mission. The excitement of launching her first live missiles towards enemy targets was only slightly greater then the rush of adrenaline shivering down her spine as she turned the giant flying beast around and headed back to base, all the while the alarm in her aircraft informing her of incoming missiles. She deployed countermeasures and rolled to evade the imminent hit, but the number of missiles launched by the enemy was greater than the number of Oster fighters, and the speed of Franco-Albion's JAMMs was too much.

Colonel Sterner flinched as the dot marking her aircraft on the display vanished. She was the first casualty of the operation, and eight pilots followed her into Davy Jones' Locker. Four more pilots managed to eject on time - Altogether diminishing the squadron's size down from 20 fighters to seven. Two more F-15s were damaged as a result of nearby explosions and were grounded upon their return to base. Colonel Sterner sat down and buried his face between his hands in sorrow. "They've killed my 69th squadron," he uttered, "I've lost nine pilots."

General Vehn stared down at him. "We've crippled their fleet... They didn't die for nothing." He raised his head and continued, "in a day or two the 109th squadron will be here as well, with its F-21s, and our fleet will arrive with the Vancouvians from the east."

[Vancouvia]

Base Mouette, îles Du Soleil, The Pacific Peace Union

Captain John C. McKinley had just reached the airfield. "Launch and we'll go over the mission while you're in the air," shouted his CO, Major Thatcher. John rushed to his F-15 and hopped in. He was joined by the rest of his unit, three other trained and eager pilots in their own Eagles, who had been waiting for him on the tarmac.

"Took you long enough, John."

"Y'all could have gone without me. I would have caught up."

"No way. Who would hum annoying songs over their intercom if we did that?"

The four F-15s were shortly in the air, heading east. "Here's the deal, boys. You are to proceed to Franco-Albion's eastern coast and from there join up with the 18th and 5th squadrons to conduct joint patrol missions. It is essential that we hold the line there."

John smiled and pushed the throttle. Finally, a chance at real combat.

25 miles west of Trapoli

The combined Oster-Vancouvian fleet had refueled in Svalbard and continued their trek towards Mesder. The seas had begun to grow extremely calm, and there was almost no wind. It was eerie yet comforting, and Storm took the opportunity to order all non-navy personnel to conduct firing exercises on deck for hours on end.

[Vancouvia]

Mesder Sea

Captain John C. McKinley and his squadron had been patrolling the Franco coastline for two days. The absence of any sign of combat had disappointed John. He had no opportunity to showcase his talent for the skies, nor to earn a hero's status "back in the Couve."

It was 8:00 AM when an information bulletin appeared on his F-15's display. YUKON DRONES REPORT POSITIVE CONFIRMATION OF ENEMY FLEET IN NORTHERN MESDER SEA BEARING....

John didn't even read the rest. With a brief "Sayonara" to his squadron, he left formation and drove his fighter north, up and over the seas glistening beneath him.

He didn't listen to his unit telling him to stop.

He didn't listen to his CO telling him to stop.

He didn't listen to his brain telling him to stop.

Captain John C. McKinley listened only to his engines, churning forward over the great blue. And when he caught sight of the fleet and launched one missile after another, all he heard was the crowds of Vesuvius, chanting his name while confetti rained down from the skyscrapers above. But there would be no parade for Captain John C. McKinley.