Closed: Conquest of New Feminia

[New Feminia]

((OOC: This is a closed RP involving me, New Edom, and set members of the Cornellian Empire Region. It involves mature but forum rules-adherent content. Reader discretion advised.))

Overview: New Feminia is a small nation which is very progressive but also economically and militarily weak. Pacifism, environmentalism and a New Age approach to religion dominate the national landscape. It has some coal and other mineral deposits that are not being used much. Major trading and economic partners have included Jedoria, Deadora, the Shrailleeni Empire, Gloria Regis ,probably other nations by proxy. Feminia has had difficult relations with the Shrailleeni and Deadorans due to ideological strains between them. In the thread we are planning, New Feminia is blamed for New Edom’s workers’ strike and is annexed.

Femis, capital of New Feminia

Jennifer White breathed deeply as the press stared at her. All the months and months of campaigning, the kissing up and the sleepless nights, she had done it. She was New Feminia's youngest president in history, ready to change the nation. Standing there on the podium, she looked nothing like the broken, begging girl she would infamously be shown as on her defeated nation's flag once the war was over. She wore a grey three-piece and her hair, dirty blonde but tastefully so, had ben attended to by the best stylist in Femis. During the election there had been some whispered accusations that she played on her looks, a notion she considered preposterous in a nation of women.

"I'd like to start by thanking the party, who put me forward," she said into the mic. "My campaign manager Ellie, my mother and my friends who have stuck by me. I promise to do the best I can to represent you, the womyn of New Feminia!"

She cleared her throat. "Now...your columnists have called me a single-issue candidate, and while that's not true, there is an issue I keep deep to my heart. So I would like to use my inaugural address to denounce our ruthless patriarchal neighbours, New Edom. This oppressive regime brutalises women and then arrests them for embracing feminism in response. They are anti-democratic, theocratic tyrants who repress anyone whose gender or sexual identity goes against their warped interpretation of the gospel. I tell you there can be no peace between our nations unless King Elijah embraces the winds of social change. Thank you!"

[New Edom]

Fineberg, New Edom

Initially the remarks of the new head of the Femina government were regarded with amusement in high ranking circles in New Edom. The Chief Justice, Bishop Zecharias, remarked at a party, “I think they are all on the same cycle in that country.”

“What we need to do,” said the Minister of Culture, Marcus Cotta, “Is send them a good dictionary. They keep spelling woman and women wrong.”

In the meantime, the nation was troubled by internal and external issues. There were miners’ strikes going on because of Chrystotile dust causing respiratory illnesses and even cancer. Nearly 100,000 miners and factory workers had marched out. However there were rumours of socialist activism, possibly outright communism, affecting the workers. The Ministry of Police had sent senior officials to investigate the matter in Etruria Major Province where the outbreak of strikes had begun.

“It’s also possible,” the Minister, General John Ashdod “That this came from some terrorist front, Homofront itself perhaps. But we shouldn’t discount concerns about New Femina. It’s hardly a very threatening nation, but that doesn’t have to be the case for them to be a conduit for terrorism.”

At the Council meeting, the new President of the Council, General Adam Nicanor, looked up keenly. He was a heavy set, once powerfully built professional soldier. He had replaced the doddering Count Samuel Beroth and was now one of the King and Queen’s chief advisors. “We shouldn’t leave any stone unturned, John,” he said. “And Hosidius,” he glanced at the short, stocky Foreign Minister, Hosidius Geta, “I think along with the usual congratulations, let’s find out what exactly the woman meant in her speech. It almost sounded like a threat…”

Later, a message arrived for Jennifer White of Feminia.

Dear Madame President,

First, congratulations on your election. Though our nations are very different and are hardly close in relations, we hope that your new government will be more understanding and friendly and contain traditional hostility.

However there are some concerns about your inaugural speech. It sounds as though you intend to have your government focus a great deal on changing our government and way of life. Was this merely a hope of greater harmony between our countries, or is there something more specific you had in mind? I ask because there are those in my government that suspect that you intend to support actions to undermine our government directly, and that would be not only a threat but an attack. Please clarify your position.

I have the honour to be
Hosidius Geta
Minister of Foreign Affairs

[New Feminia]

Femis, capital of New Feminia

Jennifer read the message twice before deciding how she would respond. Sitting there in her office as the sun went down over New Feminia's hills, she realised that she was in over her head. New Edom was a behemoth, and she knew if she identified New Feminia as any kind of threat other than ideological their response would be instant and brutal. Sighing, she started to type.

Dear Minister Geta,

I thank you for your congratulations. And I understand that my speech gave you cause for concern. Let me say, it was meant to. Your government, if that's what you can call you royal sycophants, is a blight on this world. Only when you embrace the new age will our conflicts end.
However, I must be clear. We do not have the financial or military resources to support any resistance groups that are fighting your aggressive regime, much as we’d sympathise with them. Even if we had the physical capacity to harm you, we are pacifists.

I hope very much that you can see the light and that our two nations can coexist.

Yours,
President Jennifer White

Jennifer showed the message to her chiefs of staff before sending, and most nodded in agreement. The only holdout was Carla Barton, her Minister of Defense. Carla was in her mid twenties, a year or two older than Jennifer perhaps, but her experience was unquestioned. She'd risen up from the riflewoman corps at an absurdly young age. With her officious bearing, fiery red hair and soldier's build, she commanded attention and respect in equal dose.

Handing it back, she said, "it's good...but are you sure you want to tell our rivals that we're essentially defenceless?"

Jennifer nodded. "New Edom knows about our situation. But at least they know we're not a threat."

[New Edom]

Royal Opera House
Fineberg, New Edom

At a recital, Hosidius Geta was sitting listening, his fingers tapping as the beauty of the concerto swept over him. And most delightful was the bountiful décolletage of one of the cellists, which moved deliciously whenever the bow moved quickly. His imagination took flights of fancy, and so he was deeply annoyed when Elizabeth Corbulo, his senior undersecretary, joined him in the box.

“Excuse the interruption, Minister,” the short raven haired woman said, bowing politely.

“Oh, Corbulo, how are you,” he said, concealing his irritation behind bland courtesy. “You know Count Hemsen don’t you, and Countess Hemsen?” he offered, introducing his guests, who could easily have been Mr. and Mrs. Jack Spratt, a thin man swallowed by his tuxedo and a bloated woman in a dress that could have clothed three, who smiled at the undersecretary politely.

“Excellencies,” she said. “There’s a message from Femina, Minister.”

“Oh alright, it’s about to change to the andante anyway” he grumbled,a nd got up and walked out into the hall. “Well?” He liked Corbulo’s mind, he reflected, more than her body. She had a pear shape some Edomite men liked, wide hipped and rich of buttock, but small up top like a girl on the verge of womanhood. Sad.

“Here you are,” she said, showing him a printout of it. Geta liked reading print. He sucked on his lower lip. “Says she so indeed. Alright, what’s your advice?”

Elizabeth Corbulo said quietly, “I was talking to my colleagues at Defense, Police, and so on, and we agreed that there’s only one response: inspections and openness. If they have nothing to hide, let them be exposed.”

Geta clicked his tongue. “Covenant and Sindrik both agree with you?”

“They do, sir. I recommend that you put it forward at the Council meeting tomorrow.” She said firmly.

“Alright. Did Covenant say anything about our security on Femina itself?” he asked.

“We have it under watch of course, sir, with drones and a fighter patrol, early warning systems on the watch, and ground units conduct regular patrols around their borders. In-country, we have some human intelligence, mostly Deadoran and Gloria Regian exiles who appear malcontent with non-Femina feminist regimes.” Corbulo replied.

“Alright. Continue to keep me informed. Good work.” Geta saw her bow and smile faintly and nodded in response and went back in.

Dear Madame President,

Thank you very much for your prompt reply. The response of my government is: we hope that your government will shed its wicked ways and embrace Christianity as practiced here and in much of Cornellia. You must surely be aware of how wrong it is to raise children without fathers and proper families, to encourage lesbianism and godlessness?

However that is neither here nor there; your government and people show little inclination towards change. What does concern me and my government is that you have promised that you have no capability or intent for harming our people. We are glad to hear this and would like reassurance of it. Our proposal is this:

1. That your government accept New Edomite inspections of the interior of your borders by military police, intelligence services and officials from our Ministry of Police to make sure that your borders as as unmilitarized as you say.

2. That there should be a partnership with your major transport hubs where we can have inspectors from our customs and excise and criminal investigations divisions present to make sure that your security are keeping potential terrorists from moving through your country.

3. That New Edomite National Navy vessels should be permitted to investigate suspicious vessels within your waters. These would naturally be smaller vessels such as corvettes or patrol ships—we have no intention of anything genuinely threatening.

4. That the Ministries of Justice and Police should have access to the national databases for foreign focused businesses and immigration from your government.
I’m sure you will see these requests as reasonable.

I have the honour to be
Hosidius Geta
Foreign Minister

[New Feminia]

By the time Jennifer reached the bottom of the communique, her hands were shaking. She felt anger in a way she didn't even know she could possess. She'd felt her vindictive passion inflame during her election campaign but nothing had even come close to this level of rage. The gall. The absolute gall of her correspondent. She began typing her reply, her fingers positively twitching with what she considered to be righteous indignation.

To Minister Geta, she wrote. She considered using Dear, but wanted to eliminate any traces of affability.

Thank you for your words and your suggestion that I embrace your faith. In response, I wish only that you relocate to the afterlife your kind harp on about so much, and leave my faith, lifestyle and spiritual beliefs to me.

In regards to your conditions, I refuse wholeheartedly. This is not to say that all your conditions are unreasonable. They are not. We have little control over our waters, and the presence of foreign ships could pose no disruption to our normal operations. But I find the rest of your conditions deplorable and unacceptable. I considered adopting the naive tactic of agreeing only to certain points, but partial cooperation means nothing to tyrants like you.

If this is the diplomatic path you have chosen, please be advised that any notion of cooperation is now ended.
Regards
President White

"You're walking a fine line," said the Defence Secretary nervously. "If you wanted to avoid antagonism, you've not done the best job."

"They can't bully us just because they're bigger," said Jennifer stubbornly. "The international community won't allow it."

"The international community?" said Carla with an eyeroll. "I don't mean to be disrespectful but face facts here. The old coalition is no more. We're on our own here. And no one will care about our plight.l

Jennifer handed the message to an aide and signed. "We're women," she said. "We have a resourcefulness that comes out when it's most needed. Trust me."

[New Edom]

The Palace of Justice,
Fineberg, New Edom

The Council of Ministers met in the Hunt Room, which was filled with beautiful paintings and tapestries of traditional hunts of Terror Birds, wild board, crocodiles and other infamous beasts. There were even some trophies in the room. The dominating one was of a great Brontornis, poised to strike with its huge beak and claws. Apparently the famous General Perrin Pahath-Moab, conqueror of Damoclea and known as the Boy General had shot this one.

“He stood only 12 meters away when he took the shot,” remarked President of the Council Adam Nicanor. “Twelve meters!”

“Amazing,” Geta said.

“You’d have been filling your drawers, right?” chuckled Nicanor. “What about you Lalery?” he said, courteous in tone but malicious of eye as he looked upon the Finance Minister.

“I always shit before I go on a hunt,” Count Thomas Lalery, a powerfully built young man with dark hair and eyes said as he took his seat. “So how did the hard talk go with Feminia?”

“Oh, they refused all terms,” replied Geta, sitting as well, crossing his legs and taking out a cigarillo.

“Refused, eh?” said Lalery. “What terms did they offer instead?”

“None,” Geta replied.

“What!”

Nicanor put out a large hand as though trying to stop Geta. “Wait, what? They offered none in return?”

Geta shook his head.

The King and Queen were not present; both were still very ill in spite of public appearances. The Queen’s melancholy needed to be handled carefully, and King Elijah was exhausted from the ordeal of recent public appearances.

“Nevertheless, the King was quite specific with me on this issue,” said Nicanor. “We cannot have the danger of security breaches, we must not have feminist activists back in the country.”

Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain, the tall, dark olive tanned and handsome Master of Offices to the Monarchs, nodded. “That is so. But I also do not recall him saying that we should just attack them.”

“The Chamber of Deputies will hardly just give you a carte blanche for war with something as flimsy as this thogh,” Lalery pointed out. “And frankly, nor will I.”

“Yes, Thomas, I thought you’d say that, which is why we need two things. First, I believe Feminia now poses a danger to our country. What do they have to hide? They must have something to hide. So my decision is to move a division towards their borders. Just a division,” he said with a smile around the room. “Eh? What do we have we can readily deploy, Unwerth?”

Tall, bronzed, craggy faced Jonathan Unwerth, Minister of Defense, nodded to an aide who handed him a folder. “Let’s see…we can send the following units: the 28th Hussars, 24th Lancers, the 11th Mounted Infantry, the 16th Mounted Light Infantry, 49th Field Artillery, 8th Combat Engineers. There are also four Damoclean regiments and two Dengali regiments that can be on standby. They’re undergoing wargames at the moment but we can shift all that. Then with the support of the 8th Tactical Combat Wing and our fleet, we shall do very well indeed.”

“Do very well at what?” snapped Count Lalery. His backers, Minister of the Interior Count Sharra and Minister of Police General Ashdod watched carefully.

“In case anything happens that we should be suspicious of,” replied Nicanor. “Or are you unconcerned with the defense of the country?”

“Did you all notice she wished me dead?” Geta pointed out. “It’s right there in the letter.”

“Sounds like every woman who’s met you, Hosidius,” said Prince Enoch, which got a general laugh.

Dear President White,

I apologize for not having written to you directly before. We have had a great many concerns here and I felt that Minister Geta would do a sufficient job. I am sorrowful that he somehow offended you with our very simple requests.

I should advise you that I am dispatching our Second Mechanized Division towards your borders as many of us are very worried about a possible incursion from your country, since you have not offered any guarantee that would satisfy our concerns. This force will secure the borders, nothing more. We are also dispatching four corvettes and four patrol ships to do electronic sweeps and board and searches in your waters of any suspicious vessels.

I have the honour to be
Adam Nicanor
President of the Council of Ministers

[New Feminia]

Femis, capital of New Feminia

Jennifer and Carla read through the message in a solemn silence. For the first time, Jennifer felt an emotion other than rage. It was, for lack of a better word, fear. A brief exchange of threats and bravado had suddenly become very real. What's worse, she was alone. In the years past, her predecessors had feminist allies to fight the rising chauvinistic tide, but they were gone now. Political differences turned ugly spats, economic collapses and civil war had torn a once-fruitful alliance apart, and now it was every girl for herself.

"This is your fault," said Carla, flatly. The defence minister, always a straight talker, had blurted it out with a usual lack of tact. "You make a habit of disregarding my advice, and I respect that, but here's some more. Roll back. Make concessions. Grovel your way out of this before we're at war."

"I can't," said Jennifer, a little sadly. "I just can't. We have the partisans. We know the land. Sure...if they throw everything at us we'll have no chance. I acknowledge that. But if we engage them quick and clean, it might just convince them we're more trouble than we're worth."

"Okay," said Carla. "What's our plan?"

"I want regulars," she said. "I don't want to get the partisans involved unless I have to. I know we've got three womyn's infantry units near the border. 2nd and 4th Riflewomen and the 2nd Rangeresses. They can't compete with mechanised units but a show of strength might convince the invaders otherwise. Tell them not to engage until the enemy crosses the border."

"What about their ships?"

Jennifer sighed. "We can't cover all bases." She set down to type.

To President Nicanor (slightly more conciliatory this time, she decided - petty antagonism had gotten her nowhere)

I thank you for your courtesy and your advance warning. I believe it is only right and fair I should offer some in return. By the time you receive this our border shall be fully secured with rifles. While I appreciate your concerns for our borders, I must gravely inform you that any incursions into our nation during the course of your duties will invoke swift retaliation. This is not my preferred course of action; do not make it my only one.

Yours sincerely
President White

[New Edom]

25 km from the Feminian Land Border
The Gilead Range
Etruria Majora Province, New Edom

In order to deal with the rocky hill country and mountainous terrain, light forests and other obstacles presented by the relatively undeveloped border country, the New Edomite Army relied mostly on lighter mobile forces. The Lancers and Mounted Light Infantry were air assault regiments which were trained for light infantry combat and helicopter borne attacks. The 11th was a mountain infantry regiment, specializing in the kind of terrain they were to fight in. Even the 49th Field Artillery had more towed than self propelled howitzers and other ordnance so that their pieces could easily be moved by helicopter to new zones. The heaviest of the line units was the 28th Hussars, a light tank regiment which had the LT-10 Phorusrhacos light tank, also relatively easily moved by air. While it packed less force than a main battle tank, it would resist the light infantry tactics and arms of the Feminians well.

Built directly into the mountain were helicopter hangars, barracks, munitions storage, headquarters, supply dumps and other forms of support. The mountain towns and villages were sparse, mostly focused on mining, ancient herding practices and geological exploration.

At one such town, called Saint Samuel, a weary patrol from the 11th rolled in, having spent the last several days inspecting checkpoints and trails. Captain Simon Geryon looked out at the ancient brick and gravel roads of the town, the goat herds dotting the valley walls around it, the old fashioned stone and mortar houses, and along with some of his officers dismounted and headed into what passed for a hotel. “If this is not the ass end of nowhere I don’t know what is,” he grumbled to his executive officer. “Service for officers here,” his exec said to the crowd inside. They mostly seemed to be local farmers and miners, and they made way hastily for the officers from the company. A middle aged woman, still attractive, with dark hair and an apron worn over a neat dress, approached and asked for their pleasure.

“Wine, fruit, bread, cheese,” said the executive officer.

“And remove your clothing, woman, you and your girls here. You are in the presence of Edomite aristocracy and are privileged to serve,” said Geryon. This was only part of it; the whole area was suspected to be riddled with Jedorian and Feminian spies and agents, and this was also a sort of test.

The woman froze, then lowered her eyes. “Yes Your Honour.” She slowly removed her apron, dress and worn greyed undergarments, revealing a body that had seen better summers but was still ripe. As the last of her garments pooled at her feet she bent, chees flushing, to pick them up and put them behind the counter. One of her ‘girls’, a young woman in her early twenties, was hot faced and ashamed as a friend quietly insisted, leading the way, in stripping.

“Please, Your Honour, we are Gaians, but we are loyal subjects of the King and Queen,” the landlady said quietly. “I will see to your wine and food.”

Geryone watched her walk away with thoughtful eyes. “Gaians. Loyal. Huh. We’ll see…”
The wine was decent, the fruit was cut up apples, the cheese a local goat cheese with herbs that was not bad. As the officers were munching two of the prettier young women sang a hymn which mollified the officers somewhat. They observed the movements of the bodies around them—which swayed, bounced or trembled, which was taut, which was flabby, with poetically phrased compliments or dismay as the case might be.

“Your Christian humility becomes you,” the forward observer informed them. “Not practiced, but at times such singing pleases me. If we are billeted here, you will forget your shame and no longer hide what God created you with.”

“Gaians with shame…it’s ironic,” said Geryone quietly, “For they have no shame in their promiscuity and endorsement of homosexuality, yet they are ashamed to be naked in the presence of their betters. I…”

At that moment, Major Samael entered the room. The officers stood politey. “Look, friends,” he said, “Our exercises are being extended, something special for the Damocleans I guess. Let’s go outside.”

There was a collective groan. They got up with creaking chairs, last hasty sips and mouthfuls, dabbing at hands and lips and headed out. One of the women behind the bar spat on the floor, angry tears in her eyes, and reached for her underwear.

Once outside, he said quietly, “I’m not sure what’s going on, but there’s a show brewing. May have something to do with saboteurs causing all those mining protests. We’re to close off the border, tight as a nun’s bum, and lickety split. So get your company together, we’re moving out in half an hour.”

“It’s probably just a demonstration,” offered the executive officer.

“Are you the Prophet now?” said Major Samael with a sour eye on him. “Then you know more than me. The CO wants us up on the line and watching the border highway and side roads in our forward sector in half an hour, so let’s get moving.”

“Excuse me, sir, but if there is a show,” Geryon said, “We’re going to need more ammo and fuel.”

“Right ahead of you, my son,” said Samael. “Logistics is about to get ‘em moving two ways, by road and by TH-400. Anything else?” he watched the shakes of the heads. “Alright then, in the Lord’s name, get your men mounted.” (*The TH-400 is a large double-rotor utility helicopter used to move heavy goods and large numbers of soldiers)

---

The Northern Fleet

While all this was going on, four small warships, being two corvettes and two patrol ships, were being resupplied for watch duty by a destroyer, the Joshua. Admiral Isaiah Davenant, commanding the Northern Fleet, had ordered that the four vessels move towards Feminia’s coast and port city to observe any movements there.

In fact, they were a screen for a mission called Operation Sabine, which would consist of a light carrier, the Constrictor, and its escorts as well as an amphibious landing ship which would carry the 4th Marine Infantry Regiment, a Damoclean unit. Admiral Davenant did not discount the possibility of attacking Feminia, but in military doctrine there was the possibility that Jedoria might yet come out to fight if they did that.

The thing was though, Davenant had heard a great deal about how Jedoria might be out of the fight. Many troops, airmen and sailors had not been paid in months; industry had all been shut down in order to pump out the materiel for war that the new junta had promised. Hundreds of thousands were malcontent and angry. So, the middle aged admiral had to conclude, it was entirely possible that they might attack Feminia. Accordingly, he made sure all vessels were fully armed, fueled up, and surveying their sectors of the vast range of the modern fleet.

“In truth,” he had told Unwerth, the Minister of Defense, and Admiral Galt, the Chief of Naval Staff, “Feminia would be a mere matter of sailing if we don’t have the Jedorians to deal with.”

---

Fineberg, New Edom

“I’m not quite sure what to tell you,” General John Ashdod, the Minister of Police, said to Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain and Count Thomas Lalery as the three of them drove together from the Victory Gentlemen’s Club just outside Fineberg. “I intercepted the message to the President, alright, and Little Jenny is ready to negotiate, apparently.” Little Jenny was what they called Jennifer White, as opposed to Jenny T., the Empress of Deadora.

“Fellows, my concern is how much this costs us all. If it’s an easy victory, I’m in,” Lalery said. “And I don’t want to be seen as the whining little fellow in the corner yapping about poetry and humanitarian garbage. But if it’s going to cost us thousands of lives and billions in treasure, forget it. So what’s the situation?”

“Well, it’s looking a lot like the Jedorians may have been bluffing more than we thought,” Ashdod said. “Their counter-intelligence network is pretty tight, but it’s more warm bodies than signals and network security, and so what we have is this…” he showed them a folder with pictures showing up close that a lot of the artillery pieces, anti-aircraft pieces, even tanks were dummies. “There is a lot backing up the idea that the so called reinforcements are paper tigers. With the recession hitting them so hard, I’m not sure that Jedoria can help them. Definitely the Gloria Regians can’t, they barely have a pot to piss in themselves, and the Deadorans and Shrailleeni don’t like them, largely for religious reasons. I am finding few reasons why we should not carry out Nicanor’s plan.”

“Well, make damned sure that it is so. In fact you should check again,” Lalery said, looking at him hard. “Because it won’t always go like Damoclea, Johnny. As much as I’d love to see Jennifer White dancing and shaking her booty at the Club wearing a bikini patterned after the Feminian flag, I’d rather see a body double than ten thousand dead Edomite soldiers.”

“We won’t, but I will check,” said Ashdod. “The only woman led government in the region, dare I say it, the world, that is successful is the Shrailleeni, thanks to their isolation and religion. The others are all failing. It’s God’s will. But…” he put up a hand as Lalery narrowed his eyes, “I’ll check.”

Prince Enoch remarked idly, “I wonder how Nicanor will respond to this one.”

Ashdod paused. “Well you know, with courtesy. It doesn’t matter. It’s easy to arrange things to go our way, one way or another.”

---

Penal Battalion 119, Somewhere in Northern New Edom

Valeria was exhausted, dry mouthed, her body hot with sweat even in the brisk breezes. The lumber camp all around her, was busy with the sounds of axes, chains rattling, machines moving, voices shouting, dogs barking.

She had been one of a number of feminist acrtivists in the country in 2013 when then President of the Council Perrin Pahath-Moab had purged their movement. She was not sure if she was lucky or unlucky; some had gone right to the gallows or the firing squad, others had been sent to Stonehaven—doubtless the worst—and others still for light sentences had gone to penal battalions.

Better to be a thief than commie traitor, bitch one of the trusties had said, spitting on her gruel.

Valerie dared for a moment hang her head, panting, before going back to hacking off branches from the log with her hatchet. They were always a bit too dull, on purpose. She had to hold out hope. She had a chance at escape, tonight. A series of whispers, notes, comments in the cold brisk harsh showers, on the communal latrine bench. Secreted goods and tools, a map, a plan. They would cross the border into Jedoria or Feminia, whichever fork the road led to…

---

Dear President White,

I appreciate that you must also defend your border. I urge you though to reconsider the terms offered to you by Foreign Minister Geta. There may be elements of the terms you could consider and that we could adjust.

Perhaps you’d consider this: any military police or CID we’d send over the border would be lightly armed; only small arms, no heavy weapons, no artillery. Surely that cannot pose a threat to your entire population?

As to the intelligence investigation, there would be no direct involvement at all, merely investigating where your citizens had come from and where they had been traveling, what foreign transactions they had made. It would in no way interfere with your laws. Please give this further thought.

I have the honour to be
Adam Nicanor
President of the Council of Ministers

[New Feminia]

Femis, capital of New Feminia

Jennifer's war room was abuzz with activity. She called it the war room, but in truth it was nothing more than a regular function room in the Presidential Manor with several terminals in the corner displaying GPS readouts. Either way, the room was filled with just about every staffer who could fit within. When the last eyes had finished reading their printouts of Nicanor's message, an eerie hush descended, and Carla rose to speak.

"Our troops will be at the border within a day," she said. "With respect, Madam President, you have to U-turn on this. Issue orders to the troops. Tell them to allow a...small incursion from small arms. And as for the intelligence requests...we've got nothing to hide. Have we?"

"Of course we do," said Jennifer. "We don't fund any insurgents, much less give them a base to launch their attacks from? No. But I know for a fact we have no idea how many refugees have come over from New Edom. The prisoners, the slaves, the women facing rape and abuse. If we give them the info they want they'll find these poor girls. Then the next concession we'll have to make is returning them." She slammed her fist on the desk for emphasis. She'd never done it before and it hurt slightly. "No! A line is being drawn in the sand here. Can somebody who's wedged against a terminal transcribe?"

A message was sent out the next hour.

Mr Nicanor (no formality this time)

For reasons we are disinclined to provide we are unable to meet your conditions. We are sorry to state that any border crossing will be met with retaliatory force. In the interest of peace, please instruct your divisions to turn around.

Regards
President White

Crove Region, 8km from the border to New Edom

Natasha Green was, as her sisters put it, a born squaddie. With her shaved head, muscle and tattoos she certainly looked the part. She'd joined the Rangeresses as soon as she legally could and had ten years under her belt. She came, in her mind, from a tradition of real soldiers, not like the skinny waifs the riflewomen had sent. She eyed up their captain, some blonde, tiny thing that gazed at her with doe eyes.

"We're still waiting to rendezvous with one more unit," said the girl who had introduced herself as Captain Avon. The two matched through the hilly woods, their units behind them. "They'll be with us by morning. Then it's straight to the border."

Have you ever come across Edomite troops?" Green asked. When the younger woman shook her head, she said, "well they'll come across you if you let your guard down. Repeatedly, when they've dragged you back to base. Tell your girls...no surrender. If they get the upper hand, don't let them take you alive."

[New Edom]

Reme, Etruria Majora Province

“The very thing to distract everyone from these damned strikes,” General Simon Daniels remarked to his Chief of Staff, Major-General Jacob Wisent.

The Governor of Etruria Majora Province, General Simon Daniels, was a powerfully built, roughly good looking man with dark brown hair and a splendid figure in full dress. He had been a colonel in the Royal Cavalry Guards before he had first become a roving diplomat and then was promoted to general, finally rising to his august position at present. He was not entirely content though, for he faced a battalion of problems.

The labour situation had become increasingly frustrating in the country, especially in the industrial hubs, Etruria Major, Teman and coastal Haran Provinces. Not only was there a strike in solidarity with Chrysotile workers who were demanding better working conditions and compensation pay, but thanks to a recession in Novitera there were rumoured and actual layoffs taking place. Novitera was a major source for labour with the demand for electronics parts, plastic casings and other industrial sector goods, which New Edom was a major provider of. It had also gotten out that wealthy Edomites were already speculating on the real estate and service markets in Novitera, which outraged workers.

In Reme, Nass, Port Autovia, Sterry and other cities there were strikers waving signs, students who were walking out of classes in solidarity, and you could hardly shoot all your own workers, so instead soldiers were assisting the militia with containing the situation, keeping things from spilling out of control. Daniels had led other officers in refusing to accept any wages while workers received none, but he wasn’t the problem.

“We don’t blame you, Excellency,” said Uldis, the Union Secretary-General grimly. “It’s all the fat cats in the companies. If you really stand in solidarity with workers…stand aside.”

“I’d be careful about words like solidarity if I were you,” Daniels had replied. “But now that Nicanor is President of the Council we may expect the King to get some decent advice for a change.”

Did he believe this? He did not know. One thing for certain though was that there needed to be a shift in public opinion. He was almost relieved to focus on his military duties more than administrative for a change.

“One thing I do intend,” he informed General Wisent and General Pinguis (who was his Chief of Military Intelligence) “is to take the field myself. Get a bit of a break. I’ll put part of GHQ with the 24th, I’ll be able to get a bird’s eye view of things easily that way.”

“Speaking of that sort of thing,” a Lieutenant-Colonel in the room cleared his throat.

“Yes?” Daniels eyed the younger man, who was also strongly built, with somewhat coarse but striking features and broad hands suggesting a peasant heritage.

“Sir, I have appreciated my place on your staff, but I have missed out on several shows now, and I would like to be in one again. I would like to rejoin my regiment for the purpose of this action. Lieutenant-Colonel Severinus is still very ill and won’t be rejoining the 11th, so I would like to join as First Battalion commander. I believe my old messmates would be glad to have me,” Lieutenant-Colonel Uriah Nicanor said.

General Daniels considered this. “Have you talked to your father?”

“With all due respect, sir, my father has no role in this save as the President. I am my own man, and my honour is also mine,” said Lieutenant-Colonel Nicanor firmly.

“Very well,” said Daniels. “If we consider what is before us, we have a nation scarcely prepared for war that is daring us to wage one. However mechanized forces have gotten slowed down badly by light units before, and we must not presume on victory. We will need to treat this like any other campaign. The Chiefs of Staff have advised me to minimize collateral damage but it is not to get in the way of our success either.” He nodded to the half man General Pinguis. Pinguis was missing an arm and an eye, and was scarred besides. “Right now we’re still sending out aerial recon to try to pinpoint them as well as trying to intercept any signals intelligence, but they seem to be using minimal signals. There are at the moment three ‘units’ of Womyn’s Rifles, as they are called, light infantry units barely up to modern standards.”

“The overall plan is this: the 16th will advance, seize staging areas by using their air mobility and cover of attack helicopters to pin down the enemy border forces,” Daniels said. “When they have done so the 11th Mounted Infantry and 28th Hussars will overrun those positions and advance into enemy territory, seizing the next staging areas. The 16th will be relieved by the 24th. By this time we should have effectively moved over the border. Now at the same time, Admiral Davenant will land two regiments of marine infantry on their coast, which will be followed by Damoclean and Dengali soldiers. Altogether, two divisions will be moved in to encircle the hub of their government and finish them off…”

The 119th Penal Battalion

Valerie was aching all over, footsore, backsore, and feeling filthy. In the back of the truck, she sat, hooded, chained, with a group of women, random as usual, who were not allowed to speak. You could do this carefully and at designated times, but mostly you had to talk during re-education classes. The truck rattled and bumped along the gravel road, now and then jarring her from backbone to teeth. She found herself dreaming of gruel. She didn't dare hope that the escape plan was real.

Then there was soundly a really loud bump, that shook the whole vehicle. She heard loud pops and thumps, and then the truck halted, shaing all over. She heard voices shouting, and then heard a woman's voice shouting loudly, some rattling pops that shook her to her core, sshe realized they were gunshots, and then she was being pulled.

"Valerie? Is your name Valerie?" demanded a woman's voice.

"Y...yes, it's me..." she stammered.

"Come with us, Valerie," the woman said.

She was hustled off the truck, and the woman whispered, "We're with the Feminist Collective. We're getting you out of here, sister." Then she was being half helped half walked quickly offf the road, the hood off, and she saw several other prisoners being hustled in another direction.

"What...where..." she gasped.

"Don't worry about them," the other woman said. She saw that they were wearing hunting gear all covered with dirt and brush for camouglage, and the woman, short, straw-cream hair sticking out under a knitted dark cap, was looking around nervously. "We have to scatter everyone. Some will join us, others will not.”

Her head swam. She almost passed out, and realized that the three women and one man she was with had paused, alertly watching around them. They were in a little rocky gorge surrounded by saplings and shrubs.

The woman had the look of an Anglo-German or Cornellian; lightly tanned fair features, blue eyes. She was smiling at her, a bit sadly. “You’ve been through it, huh? Here, eat this.”

It was a biscuit filled with pork and cheese. Her mouth exploded with saliva after three years of gruel and hard coarse bread with a little fruit, beans or fat for holidays. She was urged to slow down and eat carefully. She drank some delicious fresh water, clear and free of algae and bugs. Her guts wrenched and clamped.

“Thank you, what is your name?” she asked the woman.

The woman hesitated. “My name is Sarah,” she said after a moment.

Sarah helped her up after a few more sips of water. “Listen, we need to be quiet. Our plan is to get you over the border. You’re very close to Feminia right now. You can contact other refugees and exiles, tell your story, and try to get international recognition of our cause. There’s economic upsets in Novitera right now, elections in Adiron, dislike of New Edom in Ghant. There’s hope. You can make a difference.”

Valerie looked at her warily. “You seem…you seem so healthy and well. How can I trust you? What’s your story?”

“We don’t have time for this” one of the other women, a hard looking case with a scar above one eyebrow and darker Baran features grumbled.

“Shut up,” Sarah told her. She crouched beside Valerie. “I was a soldier. And I got pregnant by a man I thought loved me. A foreigner. I thought he’d marry me. But he had bigger fish to fry back home, and when I turned to my family for help—because birth control is a sin—I got sent to a re-education camp to wait it out to keep the army from scandal. But when you get there, pervy doctors and medical staff are always up to no good with you.” Her face flushed with anger and shame. “There are enlisted men there having their way with female officers—the idea is that you give sexual favours for other favours, and you’re already pregnant so why not?” Sarah spat on the ground.

“What…what happened to your baby?” asked Valerie. She could see anger, shame and sadness on the other woman’s face.

“I lost the baby,” Sarah said, wiping at her eyes. “God. I hate talking about it.”

“We should all talk about it,” Valerie told her, taking her hand.

Sarah took a deep breath. “Yes we should. Deborah is right, it’s time to go. Patrols could be through here any moment.”

It turned out Sarah was right. They had to skirt around some farm houses and villages surrounding a small town that were part of a series of pickets near the border. They saw checkpoints, road blocks, a patrol of armoured personnel carriers and land rovers on the road, had to hide for nearly half an hour as a helicopter hovered overhead, and had to dodge a foot patrol in the hills. Finally, by nightfall, there were faint sounds of shooting in the night. Valerie was like a zombie by this point, and had evacuated all the biscuit out with groaning aches. After that just crackers, water, some medicine for her aching bowels. She was not used to rich food anymore. Sarah and her comrades were tough, able, seemed to know what they were doing.

They were now crouching behind a copse of trees. Sarah scanned the horizon with her binoculars. “There. Feminia. You can’t see it, but there are Womyn’s Rifles just over the border. They may be a bit suspicious but we have a couple of codes for you. When you get there, you say “I am a daughter of Bilitis” and they will question you but treat you well. I wish I could go with you.”

“Can’t you? I’m scared…what if…” Valerie felt herself losing it, she had been on the run all day, she had been worked all morning before that, was terrified of being caught. She huddled up a bit. She tried to be the woman she once was, but it was hard to even think.

Deborah clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe we take her to a safe house…”

“She’s in no shape to go all that way” the man protested.

“No, let me,” Sarah insisted. Sheknelt beside her and embraced her. “Valerie, listen, we’re going to help you even more. We have some clothes from them, they’ll think you’re one of them at first. You’ll make it. Take your smock off.”

Valerie hesitated but was used to doing this and so she did. Beneath, her body was skinny, bruised, had healing welt marks. She began to put on the riflewomyn’s clothing offered her. “it’s a bit loose,” she said with a bit of a grim smile. “I’ve been on a diet you could say.”

Sarah smiled. “Alright. And here…take this, it’s a Feminian rifle and ammo belt. A flashlight, canteen…now repeat the codes for me.”

Valerie eventually got it. “Thank you all.” She took a deep breath. “I think I can do this. There’s rumours about workers’ strikes all over the country, is that true?”

“it is,” said Deborah fiercely, “It’s a chance. A hope like Sarah said.”

“Alright,” said Valerie. “I’m ready.”

She kept low as they suggested, and began to move towards the border. She was afraid, but she felt hope for the first time in years. There really had been an escape plan. There was a chance for her to be with sisters who understood and free her country from the grip of patriarchy.

She felt lie she got punched then, in the kidney, in her back, behind her neck. God, it was shocking and hurt! She realized she was getting very light headed, there was a weird whistling sound, and she was having a hard time talking and seeing. Then it got very dark.

“Why did you tell her your real name?” the woman called Deborah demanded.

“What difference does it make now?” said Sarah Wendt bitterly. “It’s like shooting your dog, right?”

“And was your story real too?” the man asked.

“Just like you’re a faggot, yes,” said Sarah. “But there is redemption for us all. The stupid silly bitch.” She looked down at Valerie. “She died happy, what more could she want? Make the call.”

---

New Edomite National News Report

Opening bars of Pictures at an Exhibition play as a globe spins with pins popping up on various points of the world. Split screen images of natural disasters, celebrations, military actions, elections, royal ceremonies, celebrity events are showing, occasionally with New Edomite news anchors talking about them, and then fades to a news desk.

A raven haired woman with olive skin, dark brown eyes with a rosebud mouth, a slim nose and a statuesque figure sat behind a news desk with the New Edomite flag imposed over a silhouette map of the Allied States of New Edom behind her. “Good evening,” she said, looking up with a smile. It was clear that above the waist at least she wore nothing but a gold cross on a chain, though her image was pixelated for those nations censoring such an appearance. “I’m Lavinia Tuller, and this is a NENN Evening News."

"In International news: the Adiran election is on the horizon at last, with the two main parties led by George Rowan and Howard Saito. Both candidates continue to debate on policies regarding fuel, security in Arcologia, and relations with the Imperium. However in the face of this, President Adam Nicanor has vowed to continue to support friendly trade with Adiron, support general security and anti-piracy in the Ura Sea, and alliance with the Imperium.

"In Vozgarnor concerns remain high about the potential threat of Jedorian militarism. King Elijah has promised to uphold this alliance as well, and as the King and President met at Betharan Palace earlier today the President affirmed that he would be advising the King and Queen to maintain alliances in the strongest manner. Ultimately, the President said, you don't turn your back on a comrade in arms, whatever the cost.

"Speaking of cost, recession in Novitera is hurting Edomite industry. Cancellations of orders of plastics and other materials for electronics casings, circuitry, wiring and microchips for the vast IT, entertainment and communications industry in Novitera is projected to seriously hurt New Edomite industry. Count Lalery, our Minister of Finance, has urged calm. A series of meetings between Ministry officials, private business sector leaders and the natino's unions will take place. Meanwhile workers' strikes continue over the Chrysotile Controversy. It is believed that the Noviteran recession will only make it worse.

"On our own border with the feminist state of Feminia, tensiosn have arisen over the week over suspected feminist agitation of workers. An incident in Port Autovia involving the playing of 'the Internationale' and attacks on city militia have been linked by some officials to the Feminian government. These allegations have been denied by President Jennifer White. However before dawn this morning there was a shooting on the border, and a woman wearing the uniform of the Feminian 'Womyn's Rifles' was found dead. The shooting left three Edomite soldiers of the 11th Mounted Infantry wounded and one killed."

President Nicanor is shown speaking before the press. "I intend to exhaust every diplomatic possibility for a peaceful resolution, but I cannot ignore an attack on our sovereignty, and an attack on our soldiers. I would resign and shoot myself if I were ever to lapse in caring for our people in uniform. Someone will answer for this. If that someone is Jennifer White of Feminia, and her government is responsible, then they will be the ones answering for this."

“And that’s all for now. Remember to pray for the wounded soldiers of the 11th, and for their families."

General Nicanor nodded to an aide who turned off the television. He was in his office, witht he Foreign Minister, Defense Minister and Police Minister present. He said, "Send the message now."

Dear President White,

I would like to write to you with pleasantries, but I find they are being drained from me. It is hardly professional, first of all, to neglect honorifics. I am no longer an actively serving officer, but at the very least if you forget President you might add General. I believe I have earned it. However perhaps that is too much to expect from someone who would resort to assassination and illegel breach of a sovereign nation's borders.

I have always insisted in spite of some in my government in believing in the best of your people, believing that perhaps the bitter old women who teach hatred of men and Christianity in your schools had deluded you. But I never thought that you would stoop so low as to try to murder New Edomite border sentries.

I am still willing to be merciful towards you. You will have to find the criminals responsible and turn them over to us. Then we can talk about a timetable for our policies proposed to maintain security between our countries. I am giving you one hour to replly in the affirmative.

I have the honour to be
Adam Nicanor,
President of the Council of Ministers.

When it was sent, he stretched his back a bit. The phone rang, and he was informed that it was the King. He became grave in manner and picked up the phone.

"Your Majesty" he said. He listened a moment. "Yes sir, I saw the news as well."

King Elijah said in his rather low sonorous voice, "I have read the intelligence reports, Nicanor. And I accept Ashdod's assessment. The Jedorians attempted to play us for fools. Now it falls apart around them. There are those who say I am soft on feminism because of my agreements with the Shrailleeni Empire concerning Glorai Regis. President Nicanor, I instruct you to prosecute this to the end. We will see if it draws the Jedorians out, and if it does, we will fight them there. If not, we will acquire Feminia for the glory of God and the legacy of our nation."

"Yes sir," said Nicanor. "It will be my pleasure." The King abruptly hung up, which was his style.

[New Feminia]

Femis, capital of New Feminia

"It's war then."

The words, Carla's, cut through the amosphere of the war room in the morning. Everyone else had been in what could only be described as a stunned silence.

"Do we know that?" asked Jennifer, sweating. "Are you sure this is complete bullshit, or could someone have ordered an incursion? Did one of your generals ask-"

"No," said Carla, firmly. "Absolutely not. Do you not realise, no Feminian soldier wants to go to war? Look at the voting demographics, Madam President. The military community vote swung in the opposite direction from you totally. We didn't want someone who was going to antagonise New Edom and play the thorn."

"Whether you wanted me or not, I'm in charge," said Jennifer, her voice wavering with emotion.

"Yes you are," said Carla. "And as a result, we're at war. I'm looking at the faces in this room and some of them want to hand you over to avoid this war. But I won't let that happen. Nicanor wants war. He probably set up this whole thing. He wants New Feminia, and he wants us as slaves."

"Draft a message," said Jennifer, authoritatively.

"To whom?" Carla asked. "Nicanor? No point, we're nearly passed our hour."

"Did I say to him?" Jennifer snapped. Andrea, an intern, sat at a terminal ready to type.

An open letter to the press, the international community, the Shrailleeni Empire, Jedoria, Deadora and Gloria Regis

My friends

You have probably heard the troubling news from my country this morning. If not, our soldiers are accused of crossing the border and eliminating Edomite forces. While I cannot prove this, it is not true. New Edom is generating pretexts to attack us.

While we will fight to the last breath, I fear this may prove our undoing. If it is: remember what happened here.
Let yourself feel anger when we are brought to heel by our aggressor and pledge yourself to fight human rights abuses closer to home. If you can help us, please do. Arms, food, financial support, all are appreciated. But while it may be temping to take up arms yourself, please do not. Our victory or defeat will mean nothing if we are forced to rely on crusaders, especially men.

To our sisters of the old coalition, while your intervention could save us, I know that events in the past will make this very difficult. I am glad of this in some regards as your task is to endure. Do not let any downfall on our part happen to you. I hope you will find common ground once again. Not to save New Feminia, but yourselves.

Keep our nation in your thoughts. That is all I ask.

President Jennifer White

"It's good," Carla admitted. "I'm going to deploy our entire force. Lucy, get onto the radio and send the partisans to the border."

"Speaking of," said Jennifer, "Our units in the area, when are they due to arrive at the border?"

Carla checked her watch. "Within the hour," she said.

Crove Region, 8km from the border to New Edom

Natasha Green hadn't slept well last night. It wasn't the quality of bedding in the party's temporary shelter - she'd got decent shuteye in worst places. It was fear. Natasha was fearless to a fault, but she hadn't been able to shake the feeling she was walking into a nightmare.

"Why are you so afraid of them?" asked Avon as the two of them walked through the woods. They had crossed the river at dawn and were in the home stretch. Waking a few paces behind them was Captain Arlene Hudson, a skittish young women with raven hair who was watching the trees. She'd rendezvoused with the party alongside her unit just after they crossed the river.

Natasha sighed. "I have a dog collar hung on a peg at home. About eight years ago when I was wet behind the ears I was crossing these parts with two other girls on a routine patrol. A storm messed with our electrical electrical equipment and sent us across the border - there were unmarked gaps further up before they got plugged. By the time we realised we were off course it was too late. They took us back to barracks at gunpoint. They..." She paused, choked. "They put us in dog collars. Made us crawl around while they did unspeakable things to us. Once they had their fill I managed to escape, couldn't save the other two. I kept the collar as a reminder never, ever to let my guard down."

"What happened to the girls?" Hudson asked.

"They're alive," said Natasha. "I'd...rather not say more than that."

After not long, they reached the border. There were no signs of life yet apart from the two girls on duty, no bigger or stronger than the skinny things in Avon's unit. The border itself was defended poorly, and could have been breached easily. A parking barrier and several booths were allv there was to divide two nations.

"Should we find vantage points in the hills?" asked Hudson.

Natasha shook her head. "This is a show of force remember? Fan out and stand your ground."

[New Edom]

The Feminian-Edomite Border
Gilead Range
Etruria Majora Province

It was the first real field test of the new Ku-21 Fubuki Kamikadze UAV from Nifon that was now in use by the National Air Force. It was an ugly as sin design, a cylindrical barrel with two stubby wings that had already been nicknamed “The Bug” by the operators.

Four such operators sat in a truck modified as a mobile operations center, cramped and sweating in spite of fans cooling the room—that was mostly for their consoles anyway. They were behind the lines, protected by the signals unit they were attached to and also by units of the 24th Lancers bivouacked around them.

The four drones in the area of operations had gone into "search" mode looking for visible targets. The operators then had to designate the targets according to their importance.

“So far, we have some movement that seems to have been small groups of individuals moving towards locations on the border, and they seem to have gone to ground,” reported the senior operator. “But we have not seen any movement around the area, so perhaps they’re waiting.’

“Maintain position for now,” said General Rufus Foliot, the Air Force commander in Etruria Majora. He was sitting comfortably in a bunker about 50 KM away. He advised General Daniels of the situation via encrypted radio.

Daniels thanked him and ordered the 16th Mounted Light Infantry, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Snare, to advance over the border.

---

Traditional Soldier’s Hymn
Lieutenant-Colonel Snare was a veteran of several such operations. He had commanded the rescue operation for the New Edomite embassy during the coup in Delvian States, and had led the regiment into Damoclea during the invasion. He was used to hot landing zones. His soldiers knew he would never ask them to do anything he himself would not do. It was still dark out when he had a last minute prayer with his fellow officers.

The 16th was an elite unit of assault light infantry, accustomed to being first in. It was these soldiers, as well, who had rescued Emperor Nathan IV from rebels in northern Ghant. As they moved out to their helicopters, these heavily armed mostly younger men, in their prime of life, were hard bodied, mostly Baran, Haranese or Cornellian, and were eager for action.

“Hey, troopers,” shouted Corporal Azael, hopping up into his squad’s TH-300 utility helicopter, “You all better have your metal jockstraps on. I hear they cut your balls off up there.”

“They just got no menfolk,” said Private Belem, stroking his AK-94’s barrel. “Ain’t that right sergeant?”

“Only thing you all gotta think about is watching your corner and shooting in the right direction,” said Sergeant Tessik, kissing his cross and tucking it away. He was privately worried about the Jedorians, and if the enemy partisans would hold them long enough for the Jedorians or Shrailleeni to meddle. Some allies the Shrailleeni were—he was sure that they would meddle.

“They’ll get theirs for killing our boys,” vowed Belem. There were growls of agreement.

They sang:
Thy saints in all this glorious war
Shall conquer, though they die;
They see the triumph from afar,
By faith’s discerning eye.

When that illustrious day shall rise,
And all Thy armies shine
In robes of vict’ry through the skies,
The glory shall be Thine.

The rotors of the TH-300s and sleek deadly RH-77 Cannondale stealth attack helicopters lifted the machines into the air. They sped, in flights of three, in formation, low over the contours of the land and the forests, to avoid being detected before they were in range of a few klicks. As they began to move out, the 11th Mounted Light Infantry and the 28th Hussars began to move along the roads, followed by the artillery units, avoiding use of lights save where desperately needed, radio silence generally being observed.

Before the helicopters reached their designated LZs, which were intended to capture roads and bridges, the 49th Field Artillery's multiple rocket launch systems and howitzers opened fire at last. The 155mm shells and 300mm rockets split the early morning darkness in flashes of fire and rolls of thunder, sending their fiery spears down to smash ground and tree alike, scouring the area around the designated landing zones if they could to frighten away or destroy enemies who might be in range of them. General Daniels could not help but smile. It was always a thrill to know that it was your words which had commanded the fire that rained down on the enemy.

As the 16th crossed the border, they used the drones’ targeting information to prepare for covering fire attacks on enemy positions. If unopposed the utility helicopter would start landing soldiers by flight in a zone at least a full kilometer away from any known zones. Snare, Azael, Tessik, and all other officers and NCOs in the regiment were very aware of how vulnerable as the first helicopters began to descend to the landing zones. So much forest and rolling country; it would be a dicy matter. To cover this vulnerability, the four flights of attack helicopters began to circle the area ominously, watching for targets like gigantic wasps hungry for enemies.

[New Feminia]

Crove Region, at the border to New Edom

The show of force had lasted a pathetic amount of time. The artillery strike had come within a hundred yards of taking them all out. By the time the helicopters crossed the border, the entire party, with the border guards, had withdrawn to further up. They crouched in the long grass around two hundred meters from the border, unaware they had been marked by drones. Avon and her unit had bolted first, the captain telling her unit to "run, girls!" before bolting.

Hudson had run next, terrified by the destructive capabilities of the artillery and the roar of the war machine getting closer. Two of the rangeresses, Ridges and Carmina, had run away with Hudson's unit and Natasha vowed that if they ever got out of this, she would make sure a court martial came their way. She flushed, as she often did, with anger at the system that populated the army with weak-willed, skinny kids rather than hardened soldiers.Ridges and Carmina, being just younger than her in their late twenties, had seen action. But it took a special set of nerves to blink at an artillery strike.

"That's it then," she grimaced. "Withdraw, ladies. They're going to push straight through." She took off after the fleeing figures. Ten minutes later, the entire party was in their new position.

"Remember...don't surrender. Even you two pathetic cowards," she said, indicating to Ridges and Carmina. They could hear the choppers overhead, and some of the women looked terrified. Mistakenly, she said, "stay alert. Remember...they've got no way of finding us."

Norina, 60km from New Edom border.

Grace Ford had woken up with a hangover. The Bouncing Betties, the partisan group Grace was proud to be a member of, had had a party the night in the clubhouse a night before. It was supposed to be a celebration of the war, which seemed inevitable even before the Valerie was found, and the chance to prove themselves. But in truth, it was a way to comfort the girls terrified to go to war. According to Mama Sugden, the group's elderly leader, she'd been worried about inviting the girls to get drunk when the war could begin any day, but she wasn't going to send her ladies off to war without a good drink in them.

The BBs, as they often abbreviated themselves, lived in a cabin in a valley. Norina was full of valleys, a region of neverending dips. When Grace woke up in her bed, head pounding, she realised her captain, Janine Cloris, was shaking her awake.

"Rise and shine, babyface," said Clorvis gently. Babyface was Grace's nickname - she was eighteen, the youngest Bouncing Betty, with a petite frame and a face that looked like butter wouldn't melt. Clovis was the opposite - a mix of fat, muscle and tattoos, she had a commanding presence.

"Hey, cap," said Grace, grogilly. "What's up?"

"We're deploying," said Clovis with a grin. Grace noticed she had her uniform on. The BBs had a simple uniform that was worn in training or on patrols. It consisted of a t-shirt, flak vest, camo trousers, boots and helmet. The shirt was white and featured the design of a fist being pointed upwards, palm-facing. The thumbnail was painted red, indicating that this was a woman's fist. The helmets were plain but many of the women drew pictures or wrote things on them. Clovis' helmet read WAR IS HELL, BE THE DEVIL.

"Seriously?" Grace asked, jumping out of bed.

"Yep," said Clovis, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We got the word twenty minutes ago. Get suited up!"

"Yes ma'am!" said Grace, saluting, before running off to get changed.

Femis, capital of New Feminia

"This is what couldn't wait?" Jennifer demanded, indicating to the bunker Carla had taken her to. It was in the eastern part of the city, underneath one of its few factories.

"This was used ages ago in times of war," said Carla. "A bunker under the Presidential Manor? The enemy will tear the place apart looking for it. But one under some random factory? They'll never find you."

"You drag me away from the war room for this?" Jennifer demanded. "To some bunker on the other side of town? I told you, Madam Secretary, I'm staying right where I am, not hiding away like some...rodent."

"You're sure?" Carla asked. Jennifer fixed her with a fierce look. When they arrived back at the war room in stony silence, Carla asked one of her staffers for an update.

"There's a massive force headed over the border," she told Jennifer once caught up. "We've been invaded."

Jennifer felt faint. She wondered how they'd managed to assemble such a heavy force so quickly, and realised with no small horror that there had never been any chance of cooperation. There would never have been a small force patrolling the border. She found herself wondering if this was the end, that she'd be the president that doomed her country. When she blinked, she felt the hot sting of tears. Within a few moments, she quietly wept.

Carla embraced her, a rare gesture. "Hey, come on," she said comfortingly. "When it's over and we're still standing and free, you can weep for our dead. Until then...please keep a lid on it."

Jennifer nodded and wiped her tears away, feeling ashamed but resolute. "Okay," she said. "Let's get to work."

[New Edom]

Crove Region, at the border to New Edom

As the 16th crossed the border, they used the drones’ targeting information to prepare for covering fire attacks on enemy positions. If unopposed the utility helicopter would start landing soldiers by flight in a zone at least a full kilometer away from any known zones. Snare, Azael, Tessik, and all other officers and NCOs in the regiment were very aware of how vulnerable as the first helicopters began to descend to the landing zones. To cover this vulnerability, the four flights of attack helicopters began to circle the area ominously, watching for targets like gigantic wasps hungry for enemies.

The ground came rushing towards the soldiers of the 16th; Tessik snapped “Go, go, dismount!” getting his squad off the bird and onto the ground. They were crouching and moving to set up a perimeter, hunkering down behind whatever cover was available, blowing smoke with grenades around them. Private Azael put the bipod of his Mary Jane against a large rock and squinted down the barrel towards his sector. Smoke drifted faintly through the trees from the artillery strikes. A few more made the ground shake and smoke flared around the border country.

“Tell them to cease firing, we can’t see anything out there,” Lieutenant-Colonel Snare snapped to his forward observer. He had talked to his Air Force liaison, who reported nothing. “They could be using the trees as cover, they’re mostly light units.”

The regimental HQ had formed in the cover of a ravine surrounded by trees and they looked over a laminated map while a squad of riflemen set up a perimeter. A helicopter buzzed overhead, scanning for enemies. Another dropped down on the LZ and soldiers swarmed towards it, dragging crates of ammunition and other support equipment. Other Light Infantrymen were landing and moving past the perimeters and advancing forward to take up positions covering roads and potential staging areas. They began to dig in and cover their positions.

---

Captain Geryone ducked down in the cupola of his M20 Hamsher APC as it rolled over the border along a narrow highway. Soldiers peered out of firing ports warily, and there was a tension, they were expecting to get an RPG up the butt. The convoys moved in spread out units of four to five vehicles. The M20 Hamsher, a six wheeled vehicle, was like a big rectangular with a cupola on top, a 25mm autocannon sticking out along with a coaxial and top mounted set of machineguns.

However there was no sign of the enemy. Instead, they got a radio message that the 16th had already seized the border. They were in fact escorted in by an attack helicopter and soon joined up with infantry who waved them on with grins and cheers. Some of them were urinating on the ground and one was taking a video of it with a phone.

“I do not want to tempt fate, but this might be easier than we thought,” mused Geryone. They halted near the regimental HQ and he popped out and saluted Snare.

“Captain, we’re going to advance towards Norina,” Lieutenant-Colonel Snare informed him. “General wants us to advance in V formation with the 16th covering us, Hussars on left rearward flank, 24th on right rearward flank. Skirmish order, we’re going to move along this road until we get clear of these woods. Keep your eyes peeled for partisans.”

“Sir,” replied Geryone. His company and the others then continued to move down the road towards Norina.

---

The “Bug” UAV began to advance rapidly towards Norina, in the meantime, and hovering above, about 200km back, was a flight of LY909 Sparrowhawks. These multi role fighters might not be needed, but they could also be used for reconnaissance, and more importantly were covering an E-15 electronic warfare plane across the border, its dish and aerials focusing on enemy communications.

However there was a lot of forest and hill country to cover between the border and Norina. The Bug and its mates buzzed swiftly overhead, covering a 180 degree perspective, searching for any movements in open country and over fields.

"We've gotten a few IR sigs of some human movement down there," the senior drone operator, Lieutenant Venn, reported to Snare over the encrypted radio. He explained the grid coordinates. Snare thanked him and immediately dispatched D Company to move in a wide circuit round the possible enemy signatures to outflank them while the rest of the force kept moving. The others were informed of possibly running into them. At this rate, with their opponents moving on foot, they should be onto them in no time. Captain Geryone's company and D Company of the 16th should be able, he felt, to pincer them.

The helicopers bore the 16th's troops down to the next LZ and the last of that regiment's units were deployed. There was the possibility that anyone with weapons seeing them come to the meadow they had chosen for a landing zone might be able to attack, though they would probably in turn be attacked by the attack helicopter that had accompanied the unit. With rotors fanning the vegetation, the soldiers moved out in four platoons. It was still dark so the troopers moved quietly and cautiously, wary of things like trip flares and possible ambush spots.

[New Feminia]

Crove Region, at the border to New Edom

"They're on the ground," whispered Natasha as her party crouched in their hiding spot. "They're setting up a perimeter around us." She breathed deeply, feeling the fear returning. "If we're going to make a move, we need to make it now. I may regret this but...What's your recommendation, Avon?"

No reply. Without turning her attention from the distance, she repeated, "Avon?" When there was once again no reply, she spun around, annoyed. Captain Avon hadn't moved, but the anxious look on her face had turned into sheer, mortal terror. She looked like she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"I...I don't know," she said finally in a small, terrified voice. "I've...never been in a situation like this, not surrounded, not waiting to be exterminated. I...I don't want to die, sister. I can't die!" A morbid look of determination came over her face and before anyone could react, she sprung to her feet.

"I surrender!" she screamed into the woods, and took off running. It was only the sheer shock in her comrade's cowardice that prevented Natasha from shooting her in the back. In the blink of an eye her unit, as well as Ridges and Carmina as well as two members of Hudson's unit. They ran loudly, screamed in surrender and raised their arms up. Natasha watched dumbfounded as all but herself, Hudson and a handful of girls became the only ones left.

"Fucking cowards," said Hudson, and Natasha felt her admiration for the girl rise.

"That's it," she replied sadly. "That's our position given away. They'll be on us in minutes. Don't let yourself get taken alive and..." she choked slightly "let them remember your name as one who stayed."

Norina, 50km from New Edom border..

It was ten klicks closer to the border that the Bouncing Betties met up with the Cherry Bombs. The two partisan groups went way back, as Grace understood it. They still had yearly war games, which had led to a friendly rivalry between the two, but they were the closest of collaborators. Grace sat outside the fortified Cherry Bomb camp as Clovis and Judy Kemp, one of the most well-built women Grace had ever seen, discussed strategy.

"My guess is, they'll tell us to divert some of our numbers to the capital," said Clovis. "No sense sending everyone to the border like sitting ducks."

"The capital? The border?" Kemp repeated quizzically. "Didn't you get the updated orders?"

"No," said Clovis shaking her head. "Comms have been down all the way here. You know what it's like in the valley."

Kemp sighed. "Enemy's coming here," she said. "To Norina. They bypassed the border, and we've had reports since. They know that Norina is where the partisans are, and we're the only real challenge they'll t, so I think their plan is to take us out in the open before they hit the city."

"Jesus," said Clovis, "What's our plan?" Grace quietly gawped. After all their training, this was still too much. Her head ached; why did the war have to start today?

"We're converging," said Kemp. "The Mission Belles have a few acres of land as part of their compound, and we're only three KM away. We're going to set up camp there and get ready to fight."

"Who's in? What are our numbers like?" asked Clovis.

"I count thirty groups that have mobilised," said Kemp. "If we're lucky...really lucky, we can field two thousand. I just hope to gaia it's enough."

Clovis nodded. "Let's get moving," she said.

Femis, Capital of New Feminia

As if a grim portent, the weather had turned bad when Jennifer reached the far side of the city. She'd barely left the manor since her inauguration, and the natural air felt strange.

She stood on a raised platform flanked by large artillery guns that had been erected so many years ago. Wearing a dark coat over her typical three piece she looked presidential. A huge crowd had gathered - some looked scared, others reassured. A hush fell over them as she began to speak.

"My fellow citizens," she said. "As you know, as of this morning we are at war with New Edom. I've been told a large contingent have crossed the border. We have a large force of loyal partisans ready to defend their nation with pride. Let us salute them."

She paused for effect. "However, it is important to know that if the partisans are defeated, we will be the enemy's next stop. However I want you to know that the reason I am speaking here is to reassure you that we are not defenceless. We have artillery. We have soldiers and the air force on their way. Femis. Will. Withstand. Thank you."

"Good speech," said Carla when they were off the podium.

"What are my chances of it being true?" Jennifer asked, keeping her voice free of fear at some difficulty.

Carla shrugged. "Only time will tell."

[Arbites]

To: Office of President Nicanor
From: Ambassador Jacob Lee
Subject: Congratulations
Encryption: Hand-delivered by diplomatic courier, eyes-only

President Nicanor,

On behalf of my government as well as personally, I would like to congratulate you on your appointment as President of the Council of Ministers. The Curia is immensely pleased that Their Majesties the King and Queen saw fit to appoint a man of your talents, deeds, and character to the post. My government is sure that our alliance will continue to prosper and grow ever stronger despite what could be considered challenging times.

There are of course many issues that our nations will face together. Naturally the peace talks in Ceti will remain an item of discussion. As I am sure you have seen, my government has rejected the Adirans' unreasonable demand to take one of our most esteemed Cardinals back to New Laconia in chains. It remains to be seen what will happen as a result of this election. My government is hoping for a change in leadership; DeGroot's party appears as obstinate as ever, even after the appointment of its new leader. With you advising the monarchy, however, the Curia is confident that we shall indeed see justice for eastern Ceti, one way or another.

Then there is the issue of the Noviteran stock market crash, which is likely to affect both of our nations significantly. The Noviterans represent a major export market and a source of investment in both of our nations, which are now both likely to be suffer in their recession. I have seen the recent labor unrest here in New Edom, and there are those in my government who fear the same may soon affect the Imperium as well. Some in the Curia have even begun to question the economic model which the Imperium has followed for decades. It is my hope, however, that through close cooperation, governments such as ours will weather the coming storm better than the growth-obsessed liberal states and set an example for the world.

Finally, my government is prepared to condemn the border raid apparently conducted by New Feminia. We must wonder if the feminists have been emboldened by the Jedorian military buildup. What else could explain such a brazen attack on your forces? It could even be a pretext for moving Jedorian troops into New Feminia. My government would like to know what your government intends to do, and if there is any way our forces may be of help. The 25th Mountain Division is standing by in the Gilead Range, and the Fifth Fleet is still stationed in Edomite waters around Peregrino.

May the Emperor watch over you, General, and may your term as President be as fruitful and triumphant as the rest of your career.

By His Will,
Ambassador Lee

To: Office of President Nicanor
From: Admiral Rothbard
Subject: Congratulations
Encryption: Medium

General Nicanor,

I write to you now to extend my most heartfelt congratulations on your appointment as President of the Council. I can scarcely name a living Edomite man more worthy of the title. After all, who among your peers can claim to have led the effort to avenge the murder of your king and bring civilization to a rogue state? Who else demonstrated so effectively the use of Edomite force projection in bringing Latium's succession crisis to such a swift end?

We shall continue to stand shoulder to shoulder with New Edom, as we did in Damoclea. The Fifth Fleet will naturally continue to maintain its presence in southern Acheron in support of our alliance, standing firm against the growing Jedorian menace and other possible continental threats.

Although New Edom may face new challenges as of late, the Emperor smiles upon you, General, I am sure of it. For whatever it is worth, I am proud to call you my Brother.

Sincerely,
Admiral James Rothbard II

[New Edom]

Fineberg, New Edom

There was a jubilant mood in the War Room at the Palace of Justice. News had come that, incredibly, the Jedorian high command had failed to get their defense forces to commit to protecting New Feminia. Apparently entire brigades had refused to march, pilots and ground crews refused to ready their planes, ships refused to head for the Feminian coast to protect it. Though desperately they tried to cover it up, the Jedorian government was dealing with the collapse of their house of cards. Their great military junta, guised as a democratic government, was struggling just to keep afloat. The recession in Novitera had exposed them at last. Many soldiers had not been paid in months; hundreds of thousands of factory workers were out of work and unpaid as well. Utilities were blacking out. And many of the new heavy artillery, air wings and tank units were revealed to be paper or false units. One of the more elite mechanized divisions had set out for New Feminia only to be turned back to quell labour and wage riots in Strana Mechty. The Jedorians would not be rescuing New Feminia.

After three cheers and praises to God for His mercies being renewed daily, the senior officials and officers in the room were almost giddy.

“My boy was one of the first senior officers over the border,” Nicanor said proudly. “I’m proud of the lad, he could have kept cushy at Daniels’ HQ, but no, he wanted to rejoin his regiment as a battalion commander! Some soldier, eh?”

“Yes, I feel almost the sin of envy, that you married young and have children grown,” General Augrim, Chief of the General Military Staff said gravely in his Haranese rural accent. He, like Nicanor, had been born a commoner, and was a tall, dark haired, dark olive tanned man with a hooked nose and angular features.

“My daughter will give you children to comfort your ageing years though, General Augrim,” said Unwerth, the Minister of Defense, with a smile. He had, that year, betrothed his rather flighty daughter Rafaella to Augrim as a means of bringing him closer to his own political allies.

“I look forward to our marriage. I will be as Christ to her,” said Augrim.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, the reports are in now.” The President, Minister and Chiefs of Staff were sitting in comfortable chairs in a boardroom. Communications systems were set up around them and staff officers and NCOs were busy monitoring the reports from New Feminia. They all looked up as Lieutenant-General Thomas Josephus, a dashing Air Force officer wearing an eyepatch, spoke.

“There has been minimal contact with the enemy. We are advancing steadily on Novina with the Light Troops, Hussars and Lancers supported by artillery and logistics units. Apparently there has been minimal contact, and no casualties thus far. The Air Force and Navy are about to launch attacks on their air bases.”

“Very good,” said Unwerth. “Well, Daniels has a long leash. Let him use it.”

“Agreed,” said Nicanor. He felt a vast satisfaction so far. It was like his invasion of Damoclea; a swift stroke that ended a threat. He had made use of the economic crisis in the region to divert Lalery and Enoch to keep them busy—and it was legitimately busy to be fair—and in the meantime would reap the glory of this. “Now, the King and Queen were very clear on this point: after the destruction of their border and air forces, we must offer them a chance to surrender. I agree with them. All that we do must be predicated on rule of law. Miss Corbulo…”

Elizabeth Corbulo, the Foreign Affairs Undersecretary was among the officials in the room, “Yes, Excellency?”

“You are in contact with Foreign Minister Geta. I would like you to start working on a letter we will send quickly. Also, when the Shrailleeni, Deadorans and Gloria Regians find out about this, I want them swamped with stories of how we had so little time, shocking attack on the border, all that.” He said with a smile.

“Of course, Excellency.”

Nicanor had said to his wife, daughter-in-law and his remaining brother (his older brother Uriah, the Minister of Justice having been killed in the same stadium collapse as Perrin Pahath-Moab) “God has blessed me with this war. It will be part of my epitaph, that I remained in possession of that same ability to command as in my younger days. And we will show the matriarchies and feminists in the region that they cannot withstand the tide of the rule of godly men. I ask you all to commit to prayers to God in thanks for what I have been granted, for which I am truly grateful. As grateful as I am for all our good fortune, which I believe to be His glory and goodness.”

Was there anything more lovely than a virtuous woman? Really, he was doing these New Feminians a favour…

The Border

The two patrol craft and two corvettes covered the approach of a pair of huge hovercraft from the Northern Fleet that landed a company each of Marine Infantry around Suranis. The Marine Infantry rolled light vehicles and dismounted infantry right off the ramps and quickly moved in to surround the fishing village. If they met with resistance, they immediately counterattacked with their marine landing vehicles firing grenade launcher rounds. However their immediate goal was simply to secure the area. Major Asher, the senior officer, a thickset, almost neckless man, looked out with glittering eyes at the foreign shore as he and his men prepared to disembark. He had warned his troops that the village could, for all they knew, be full of partisans, old radical lesbians ready to slit your sack as soon as look at you.

Meanwhile, the 11th’s First Battalion, led by Lieutenant-Colonel Nicanor, advanced on Weira. This sort of thing was a potential delay but for all they knew there were partisans in the village, or at least bases of supply. All such small villages were to be captured. Lt. Col. Nicanor gave orders to one of his companies, C Company to scour the village for enemies. The rest of the battalion was to continue to support the others as the 11th advanced on Novina. C Company moved in a U formation towards the village, and woke them with loudspeakers as soldiers dismounted their APCs and began to advance in steady good order towards the village itself, tense and ready for ambush.

PEOPLE OF WEIRA! THIS AREA IS NOW OCCUPIED BY THE NEW EDOMITE ARMY! ALL CITIZENS ARE TO ASSEMBLE PEACEFULLY IN FRONT OF THEIR HOMES, NO EXCEPTIONS! KEEP YOUR HANDS ON TOP OF YOUR HEADS AS OUR SOLDIERS ENTER YOUR VILLAGE! IF YOU OFFER NO RESISTANCE YOU WILL NOT BE HARMED! PEOPLE OF WEIRA…

The ‘light contact’ referred to by General Josephus was in fact the surrender of Avon. Sergeant Tessik was moving his squad through the alpine woods when suddenly he heard some girl yelling something. He knew there were few women in the 16th, none in the 11th—and the soldiers in the 28th and other units who were female hardly sounded like that. “Hey, quiet,” he muttered to his squad who were moving carefully through the trees. “Hear that?”

“Sounds like its coming from six o’clock, sarge,” said Azael, tensing.

In fact, they saw a young woman in a foreign battle dress, such as it was, running, crashing through the brush, along with others. It was so weird that Tessik was stunned for a moment. Then his instincts took over. “No one shoots until I do,” he snapped. “You there!” he roared. “Halt! Put your hands up on your heads, remain where you are!” If they did, he radioed in through his RTO, “Captain, we have several Feminians who appear to be surrendering, we’re going to check them out.” He motioned to two of his soldiers, burly young men from Teman Province with olive tanned faces smudged, dark eyes grim, to move towards the surrendering women to make sure they were disarmed.

His company commander affirmed this. Meanwhile, Captain Avare, the company commander, moved with his First Platoon and Weapons Platoon towards a copse of trees from which the enemy soldiers had run.

“What do you think, Your Honour?” his CSM asked him.

Avare licked his lips. “Let’s light ‘em up, drones confirmed more than Tessik reported. Two flash bangs, Sarn’t Major.”

“yes Your Honour,” said the CSM. He scanned the area where the soldiers were crouching, kneeling, lying around him and picked the two best grenadiers. “You and you, flash bangs in that copse. Second squad, you follow it up and clear the area, rest of platoon will cover.”

“Sarn’t Major,” replied the squad leader, motioning to his men and two women to be ready.

The flash bangs were fired into the copse where Natasha and her remaining comrades were hiding, smoke and blinding light exploding, which was swiftly followed by Second Squad rushing up, crouching like apes, ready to drop if need be but otherwise hurtling towards the copse to seize whoever was there.

---

Lieutenant Aaron Gore reported to Admiral Davenant on the flagship, the Constrictor. “Excuse me, Excellency, but there appears to be no air operations active in New Feminia. We have no contacts through the E-15 or the drones. Doing a sweep over the air bases now.”

Davenant sat in a chair in the command and information center. Lights and screens lit around him and flickered in the calm cool air conditioned room. Davenant, a handsome well built man in his early forties, was a cousin to the Royal Family, a descendant of King Solomon III. He was a man of supreme confidence and rarely had to think for long when he knew what was required of him. “The air bases themselves should be destroyed regardless, they are among our premier targets. Thank you, Mister Gore. Weapons, you have your targeting information. Let’s test the witches’ air defense network, shall we?” he had a smile of satisfaction on his face. “Joshua is to open fire, other escorts remain on station and wait for further instruction, Battleaxe to continue to provide cover for the landing party on the coast.”

Clamshell doors opened on the Joshua ,which was a Chieftain class destroyer. The plan was for a series of Helion Cruise Missiles to hit the enemy air bases. First, structures such as hangars, Quonset huts, known fuel reserves and radar stations were primary targets, with runways being secondary as there were only 10 MiG-23BNs to deal with for fixed wing elements. The structures were to be hit by bunker-buster warheads to blow apart structures and make them unusuable. The first wave of six missiles launched in spaced succession by the Joshua would be focused on hangars. These exploded from the decks of the warship and then gathered speed, one by one and hurtled inland.

Meanwhile, Davenant maintained a perimeter of frigates and the other destroyer, with two submarines below as farther out pickets, and a combat air patrol of four Terrier vertical takeoff and landing fighters. However he felt very confident that all this was more a matter of training and routine than a genuine danger from the enemy. A mere matter of sailing indeed.

[Hittanryan]

20 Hill End Street
New Laconia

The Feminian Crisis was moving at something of a breakneck pace for the Adiran political scene. Still working to come up with a response to the stock market crash, Feminia had been relegated to something of a side-issue. Political analysts were sure this border incident would blow over as it usually did. George Rowan's staff assured him so. "Nicanor's not wasting any time. There's already a border dispute with New Feminia. The Edomites have accused their forces of crossing the border and attacking Edomite troops," Kevin Martin explained, periodically looking up from his phone.

"What?" Rowan asked.

"Probably nothing to worry about, this has happened before," Martin explained. "The usual pattern is that something happens on the border, Fineberg makes demands of Femis, then once the Jedorians inevitably threaten to intervene, they reach a compromise. It's practically a ritual by now."

"I thought the Jedorians were practically imploding," Rowan said.

"Not their military, and that's what counts in this case," Martin said. "The Edomites won't really want to tangle with them."

Within a matter of hours, however, news was spreading that the Edomites had crossed the border in force. Rowan quickly called Ferrain and Martin for an emergency meeting.

"I thought you said this was routine?" Rowan asked Martin.

"I was wrong. I thought the Jedorians would've raised holy hell by now," Martin said, rubbing his head.

"So where are they? What are they doing?" Rowan asked.

"There's nothing. Nothing out of Strana Mechty," Martin replied.

"What do you mean nothing?"

"I mean zip, zilch, nada, nothing. Didn't back the Feminians up when things got heated diplomatically, not backing them up now that troops are on the move," Martin explained. "I think you might've been right. The Jedorians might be on the verge of collapse. They sacrificed everything to try to pump up their military, and the strain could've easily been too much, especially with the stock market crash on top of it all."

"Hold on, we don't have good intelligence over there," Ferrain cautioned. "Could the Jedorians just be keeping their cards close to the chest? That fascist government of theirs has been as airtight as it has been erratic. It is possible they have in fact mobilized and staged deception operations to conceal them, just as the Imperium does."

"If they have...we're looking at the start of the next Edomite-Jedorian war," Martin said gravely. Rowan's face fell. "If they haven't, the Edomites will completely roll over the Feminians."

"New Feminia was some bizarre social experiment gone out of hand as I understand it. What chance do they really have?" Rowan asked.

"As I understand it, the Feminians relied on Jedorian protection," Ferrain explained. "On their own, the most they can hope for is to wage a partisan campaign. The Jedorians could be waiting for the Edomites to bog down. Even then, the Edomites have years of experience in counterinsurgency, and the Feminians by most accounts are inexperienced and very poorly-equipped. The country is also small, fewer places for guerrillas to hide."

"Maybe it's what the Jedorians wanted: for the Edomites to make the first move," Martin speculated. "Then the Jedorians come in as liberators who never go home."

Rowan sighed. "And meanwhile we sit here not in actual government. I'll need to talk to Snyder about how we handle this publicly. Thank you both."

[The Shrailleeni Empire]

Imperial Palace, North Wing
The Enlightened Matriarchy of the Shrailleeni Empire
Several days ago...

The light from the television was the only source of brightness in the otherwise black room, a cold blue luminescence that cast long, dark shadows. The tall bookshelves and display cases that cluttered the walls seemed liked the sides of some cramped and forgotten cave, the woven silk tapestries clinging between them like hanging moss. The man who sat in the darkness watching the screen with tired eyes liked the room this way, a secluded haven born from what in the daylight was an impressive and elegant room fit for a man of his station.

It was well past midnight, perhaps even the early morning. Most of the palace was asleep either in their chambers or away in their homes. But Zattem did not like sleep, and aside from a few cherished visits to his mother he did not like his home. And so on some nights, when he could afford to do so, he simply hid away in his office while the rest of the palace finished its day. Then he would read, or write, or watch television streamed to his office from the outside world.

Tonight, or this morning, he was watching footage from Femis in the small nation of New Feminia. They had recently finished their elections, and in so doing had brought the youngest woman in that country's history to their most powerful executive position.

Safe in his office, he allowed himself to smile at her appearance. Younger than even himself, a notoriously young bureaucrat in Shrailleen, she had run her campaign on fiery, largely empty promises of change and the uniquely New Feminian brand of matriatism and nationalism.

He had never met her personally, but as the Shrailleeni Foreign Minister he had been largely responsible for attempting to bring New Feminia into the Sisterhood of Nations a few years ago. But the Feminians were radicals, like the troublesome Gloria Regians they were feminists who had not yet developed any true matriarchal foundations or culture. But while the Gloria Regians had decided to treat their men to a harsh learning curve, New Feminia had rejected men entirely from their nation. Even the Deadorans, warlike as they were, recognized that children were the future of any society that wished to exist longer than a few decades. The Mother Empress would say that the New Feminians had fallen from the Enlightened Path of the Mother Goddess. Zattem didn't know about that, but he did know that they had fallen far from the path of Shrailleeni favor.

Just before the attempt at alliance had fallen through, he had been told by the New Feminian ambassador that Shrailleen was too imperialist, too close to patriarchal nations like New Edom, too enmeshed in its "backwards" religion and the "oppressive" rule of monarchs and nobles. Shrailleeni diplomatic and military assistance was "unpopular" and "unnecessary." He had attempted to explain, as the Mother Empress herself had done for the Gloria Regians, what the realities of regional power were. That Shrailleen was the only matriarchal nation with the strength and influence to protect women in the region. His attempt had fallen on uncaring ears, no doubt burning at the thought of being lectured by male lips.

Now the new President, Jennifer White, was making her victory address. He listened, bemused, as it took a very unexpected turn.

"I'd like to start by thanking the party, who put me forward. My campaign manager Ellie, my mother and my friends who have stuck by me. I promise to do the best I can to represent you, the womyn of New Feminia!"

"Now...your columnists have called me a single-issue candidate, and while that's not true, there is an issue I keep deep to my heart. So I would like to use my inaugural address to denounce our ruthless patriarchal neighbours, New Edom. This oppressive regime brutalises women and then arrests them for embracing feminism in response. They are anti-democratic, theocratic tyrants who repress anyone whose gender or sexual identity goes against their warped interpretation of the gospel. I tell you there can be no peace between our nations unless King Elijah embraces the winds of social change. Thank you!"

"Ha!" Zattem actually laughed out loud, a single sound that broke the black quiet of the room. She is a bold one, he thought to himself in amusement. The New Feminians were notorious pacifists, despite keeping a well-armed militia, another reason why they insisted on heaping criticism upon the region's oldest matriarchy. But those words were fighting words, and he knew the New Edomites well enough to know that they would see things precisely the same way. The New Feminians had apparently elected a firebrand, and an utterly tactless one at that.

Normally the Feminians had relied on the machinations of Jedoria for protection. But Zattem privately knew that the ruling junta in that country had fallen into disarray. It's military expansion efforts had wrought havoc on the economy, and their usually passive Gaian majority, a staple support group for Jedorian regimes, had been...persuaded of late to demand that the secular government adopt a more Leenic style of rule. Unrest in the major cities was growing, and the Shrailleeni were posed to take advantage of the chaos. Because of this they had gone to great efforts to conceal the extent of Jedorian weakness from New Edom, but Zattem suspected that the New Edomites weren't as fooled as many in the Imperial Palace believed.

The recent attacks in New Edom, coupled with their loss of ground in the Gloria Regis negotiations, would make them more likely to take a hardline stance. They were in the mood to test just how far they could go, and Feminia's Jedorian and Deadoran allies were both dealing with internal pressures. It was a bad time for a firebrand, and any person of sense should have known that.

Behold, the wonders of democracy, he thought as the newscaster began breaking down the President's speech. Goddess, I hope that we haven't started down this same path. They'll be lucky not to have New Edomite troops at their border in three days.

Imperial Palace,
Now

The Royal Court was greatly changed from the days when Zattem had first joined its rank. Most noticeably absent were the Queens and Regents who had once sat on the Shrailleen Empire's highest executive council. Now, only Matriarchs and Ministers like himself, personally appointed by the Mother Empress, had any say in the affairs of Shrailleeni government. Today was a special session, headed by the Mother Empress herself recently returned from her extended stay in Gloria Regis.

The great, smooth stone room seemed empty without the traditional litany of nobles hanging about. All of the members of the Court sat around a great mahogany table in the center of the throne room, while the Mother Empress and the Prince-Regent sat upon their respective thrones. Their eldest daughter, Aryni, who was also the Matriarch of State, sat in her place at the table, while her siblings and their spouses sat around the throne in places reserved for the Imperial Family. Some of the Mother Empress's eldest grandchildren were present as well, including the Crown Princess Chella, Aryni's eldest. She was sitting at the lowest seat before the throne, upright and proper, looking almost like her mother in miniature. Zattem's gaze lingered upon her for a moment before returning to the task at hand.

"Here is what we know for certain," he was explaining to the rest of the Court. "New Edom is claiming that New Feminia is channeling terrorists into the country, and that a border clash resulted in the wounding of three of their soldiers and one killed in action. They are holding the entire nation responsible."

The Matriarch of State turned her cold gaze upon him, no trace of an expression upon her face but her dislike of him clear. "Do we know anything more about their intentions? What have they told us?"

"A simple missive claiming that they have been forced to react to protect their borders, nothing more official from that from the King or the new President. New Feminia, for their part, claims that none of the accusations are true and that New Edom fabricated the evidence in order to justify their invasion. They claim to wish to fight rather than seek negotiation. Indeed, they seem to almost wish to be defeated in war. President White's statement suggested that she wishes to make martyrs of the entire nation, and went so far as to dissuade foreign military intervention."

"What of the Jedorians? Have they offered any reaction yet?" asked the Matriarch of War, Tress Vilnis fe Fromathra in her typically sharp manner.

"No official response from Jedoria yet," Zattem replied, turning his own gaze to Callerra Fennatil fe Shrailleen, head of Shrailleeni Imperial Strategic Intelligence.

The SISI Directer bowed her head to the throne first, as it was her first time speaking during this session, and then referenced some documents that had been placed in front of her and everyone else in the room by secretaries before the meeting.

"The junta in command in Jedoria attempted to move military assets toward the border, but they are experiencing great difficulties. Our agents in the Jedorian armed forces report that there is mass insubordination, and the Noviteran crisis has led to extreme levels of unrest in the major cities. We are seeing unprecedented levels of political activism on the part of the Temple of Gaia and the Leenic temples that we have established there, but this increase in influence is only helping to impede the military apparatus."

Everyone took this information in for a moment. Finally, Zattem offered his thoughts.

"This was bound to happen eventually. At the request of Her Enlightened Majesty I attempted to foster stronger relations with the Jedorians following the revelation of our co-religionary status, but they remain suspicious of our alliance with New Edom and of, admittedly founded, attempts to mobilize their Gaian population. When we recommended that they lessen their military buildup, they instead doubled down and tripled their conscription and production rates."

"And the Deodorans?" Aryni asked.

"They remain in no position to help Feminia," Zattem responded. "The feuding among the Deadoran noble houses is worse than most of the region knows. Our efforts to foster a Leenic community in the rural south of the country are finding success, but it has not been enough to offer the Matriarch Empress the popular support that we promised. They will almost certainly not get involved."

"And so that leaves the Empire as the only nation from the old coalition with the military strength to intervene," the Matriarch of War mused.

"Not quite so, Matriarch," the Matriarch of the Economy interjected. "We may have the forces, but as I discussed earlier the Noviteran crash is going to impact us as well, strongly. We are already seeing a marked reduction in exports, and Shrailleeni businesses with strong ties to Noviteran financial subsidiaries are facing collapse. Even if we re-allocate our oil funding, we are facing a rise in unemployment on top of the current unemployment problem. Any military adventures that we undertake will only make things worse."

Zattem made a negative hand gesture, and addressed the rest of the room. "The question of intervention is finished anyway. Our reports from the consulate in Femis indicate that the New Edomites have already begun their invasion. According to our intelligence, New Feminia doesn't have the military resources to offer any real resistance. Once the partisan militias scatter, our analysts predict that they will be completely overrun in a matter of days."

"I hope that you have not misunderstood me Matriarch, Foreign Minister," the Matriarch of War replied. "I simply observed that we are their only option. I do not believe that we should intervene at all. The New Feminians have brought this invasion upon themselves with their stubbornness and pride. The Gloria Regians were stubborn, but they at least allowed us to station a Battlegroup there. Then when the New Edomites came knocking, we forced them to stop or risk starting a war. But the Feminians refused our offers of help, and disparaged our military forces for allowing so many male soldiers into our ranks and officer corps. If we had forces stationed there now, the New Edomites would never have dreamed of an invasion."

"Her Enlightened Majesty will now speak," the Prince-Regent announced loudly. The table quieted, and all eyes turned upward toward the throne.

"There is some truth in your words, Matriarch," Chella said, her normal speaking voice seeming to fill the absolute quiet of the room. "But there is more at work here than the childishness and political weakness of our Feminian Sisters. I do not like that our New Edomite allies have chosen to invade a Sister nation without first discussing the matter with their allies. I had hoped that the conclusion of negotiations regarding Gloria Regis would help to put an end to this saddening frost that has fallen upon our alliance."

"However, it seems that Elijah remains eager to threaten the lesser matriarchal cultures of the region with a show of force. We, the Children of the Mother Goddess, are Her most devoted supporters of Her Enlightened Path in the region. This is nothing less than a challenge to our authority, and one that we cannot simply abide. Our Sisters in New Feminia may have fallen from the Enlightened Path with their strange ways and stubborn pride, but it is our sacred duty to help guide them back into the Light. How may we do this, My Children?"

"Your Enlightened Majesty," the Directer of SISI was the first to respond. "Our operatives are already present in Jedoria. The crisis there has allowed us a great deal of influence. We can bribe the proper authorities and unpaid military officers, organize our operatives, and cross the border into New Feminia. We may not be able to halt the New Edomites militarily, but we can help to ensure that their occupation is long and difficult. Arming and training insurgents already worked for us in Gloria Regis, and it can work again here."

"War is of course unacceptable," the Matriarch of War offered contemplatively, "but that does not mean that we have no military options. A show of force, perhaps a carrier group, sent to the international waters near New Feminia will send the New Edomites your message of displeasure, Your Enlightened Majesty. We can tell them that it is an allied force sent to offer support, but the New Edomite monarchs think badly enough of us that our true meaning will surely not be lost."

"There are also more official means of influence," Zattem responded. "We could negotiate with the New Edomites to allow Shrailleeni inspectors to enter the country in the wake of their invasion. That way we could help guarantee favorable human rights reports, which would aid New Edom internationally, while also ensuring that our own demands are considered. Perhaps they would even allow aid workers or Imperial Guard units, to help maintain the peace."

The Mother Empress seemed to contemplate these options for a moment, but her response was swift and certain enough that Zattem believed that she had already reached a conclusion before requesting other opinions.

"Director, I want an operation plan for our agents in Jedoria by the end of day. Foreign Minister, please compose a missive to our ambassador in New Edom. We will require an explanation, and put forward your suggestions. This will demonstrate to them that Shrailleen will not sit idly by while our Sister nation is invaded on unproven charges. Matriarch of War, put our naval forces on alert but take no further action for now. Let us see how our allies respond to our righteous queries. That will be all, for now."

"Yes, Your Enlightened Majesty," the Court replied in unison.

To Foreign Minister Hosidius Geta,

I offer you warm greetings on behalf of Her Enlightened Majesty the Mother Empress Chella Resyanna fe Shrailleen. I hope that this message finds you well and in good health. I was greatly joyed to see His Majesty the King active once again following his recovery, may His Majesty and the Queen enjoy a long and prosperous rule.

It now appears apparent, given the state of the regional economy caused by the Noviteran stock market crash, that our two nations shall once come together in cooperation and friendship to weather this storm. Never before has FODE been so crucial to the economic health of our nations. I look forward to working with you as our nations move forward in dealing with this crisis, to which we shall no doubt find success.

Her Enlightened Majesty has heard that your armed forces have come under attack on the border with New Feminia. Their new, fatherless President is certainly lacking in the measures of diplomacy and tact, although this can hardly be unexpected for a nation which so soundly rejected the call to Enlightenment. However, Her Enlightened Majesty is concerned by rumors that New Edom has planned an invasion of New Feminia in response.

Her Enlightened Majesty wishes to place our honorable allied forces and resources at your disposal. My government would like to review the evidence that your government has gathered that New Feminia has initiate aggression against New Edom. Once this is done, my government has indicated that it will declare war upon New Feminia is accordance with our alliance. There are also concerns in Shrailleen regarding the reaction of the Confederation of Jedoria to an invasion of their neighbor, as well as concerns for the international reaction to such action. I have been asked to suggest that Shrailleeni human rights investigators be allowed to accompany New Edomite military action into New Feminia, to ensure that the international community if properly informed of the honorability of your conduct.

Please convey the wishes and inquiries of my government to His Majesty King Elijah. I look forward to speaking with you further on these matters.

May the Light of the Mother Goddess shine prosperity upon the peoples of the Allied States of New Edom and the Shrailleeni Empire,

Ambassador Katara Telta fe Vangarra,
On behalf of Her Enlightened Majesty the Mother Empress Chella Resyanna fe Shrailleen

[New Feminia]

The Border

In an instant, the entire field of battle was rendered a dazzling, brilliant white. The flashbang rendered Natasha almost totally blind, causing her to lose her grip on her weapon, which fell to the ground. No, she thought. Not like this, not alive, I can't!

"Fire!" she said as the flashbang showed its first signs of clearing. She knew any chance of an actual volley from the girls was slim, but if she could bluff the enemy into shooting them, it would all be over in an instant. If not, they would be on them before she could even put a bullet in her brain.

Further down, Avon and the other women who surrendered were being searched. She felt their hands all over her, more groping her flesh than performing a search. She thought they'd realised she was now unarmed for some time, but had continued their fun. The only two surrenderees with sidearms were the two rangeresses, and they'd given them up straight away. Her cheeks flushed with shame. She looked at the other girls when they were being searched and she felt guilty for surrendering as most of them were just following her lead.

Weira, Crove Region

"Erin?"

Elena Sartis opened the door to her sister's room slowly, wondering if she was still asleep despite the noise from the loudspeaker. Instead she found something she didn't quite expect; her sister was packing a bag at record pace. Usually for identical twins, Elena never understood Erin and her behaviour, which was unpredictable to say the least. They had nothing in common, and had subconsciously made themselves look as different to the other as possible. Elena was a traditional village girl, Erin was a punk, with clothes and blue hairdye she'd bought on a trip to Femis.

"Erin, what are you doing?" Elena asked, softly. "There's an army on the doorstep. You can't leave, you'll be shot!"

"I need to go away," said Erin, not pausing her packing even slightly. "It can't wait."

"Maybe you didn't hear me," said Elena, trying not to snap. "The Edomites are outside. They've told us to go outside."

"I can't let them see me," said Erin stubbornly.

"Why?" demanded Elena.

Erin sighed. "You know how I keep taking these trips out of the village? The capital, and all over?"

"Yeah."

"All lies. I never told you the truth because you'd disapprove. I'm...well, I guess you'd call me an agitator. I've been crossing the border in secret, smuggling supplies and carrying messages. Recently I got involved in a major industrial action, Edomites call it the Chrysotile Controversy. Our enemy doesn't know my name, but I'll bet you there are some soldiers out there who know my face. And we're both going to be in a world of shit." She finished packing and moved to the doorway, kissing her sister on the cheek. "Listen to me very carefully...when they're asking you questions, say you have a sister, and she left this morning, and didn't say why. But for fuck's sake don't make it sound like I've gone off to join the partisans, they'll find you guilty by association. I'm not dragging you into this."

Before Elena could process this news, Erin had brushed past her on the way out and was gone. Shaking, she went downstairs and went outside with her hands up.

Airgal Air Force Base

Nancy Potts had barely left the radar room of Airgal AFB since the war had begun. Her shift had ended hours ago, and she was started yawning. There had minimal movement on the radar too, making her job all the more boring. Outside, the base's planes and helicoptors were gassed up and ready to fly over the capital at a moment's notice.

"We've got something," said one of the girls, and Nancy saw it on her screen too. Three large blips that were approaching their position. Nancy immediately pressed the air alarm button, and heard a loud siren outside.

"Must be jets to be moving that fast," she said. "Brace yourselves, girls. We'll knock them out of the sky." But in the time she spoke, the blips had shot across the screen.

"Oh," she said sadly, realising that the blips were not jets. The last thought she had before being obliterated was that her last shift should have been shorter.

Barlene, Norina

Seeing the great thronging mass assembled at the Mission Belles compound, Grace felt a strong sense of pride. There were so many different groups here, and their names, uniforms and styles were a sight to behold.

"Amazing, isn't it?" said Clovis. She sat next to Grace and the girls. She was doing some maintenance on Betty Boom, her prize weapon, an RPG. No one else in the unit had anything resembling it, and she was proud. "Been years since we all got together like this. If we weren't about to go into battle this could be a nice little party."

"But can we beat them?" asked Grace.

"Course we can," said Clovis. "This is bandit country."

Femis, capital of New Feminia

Jennifer knew the news was bleak before Carla had opened her mouth. There was something in her face that spoke loudly. Jennifer had heard her hesitate before she entered her office.

"Our air support is out," she said sadly. "They took over the ports and bombed us to hell."

Jennifer put her face in her hands. It was all crashing down on her. A mad part of her wanted to give up, to surrender, but she reasoned that Nicanor was no longer interested in a neutral peace. At least they could have a chance if they fought.

"Did you bring what I asked for?" she asked. Carla sighed, reached into her pocket and handed her a pistol.

"I can't believe you're considering this," she said.

"You know the expression, better to die on your feet then live on your knees," Jennifer replied. "I refuse to live my life as property, especially to Nicanor and his pigs."

"Just don't pull the trigger until you're sure we've lost the war, yeah?"

Jennifer nodded and Carla took her leave. She felt guilty for giving Jennifer a prop gun, but if the president shot herself it would take away the last iota of hope the nation had. She'd first opted for a blank, because if the president gave it a test shot it would at least make a noise, but a blank did damage when fired against the temple and Jennifer was far too timid to do a test fire

[New Edom]

The Crove Region

“Keep your hands where we can see them!” snapped Sergeant Tessik as he watched his men searching the women. “You there, what’s your name and unit?”

Azael got out some zip ties and forced Avon’s hands behind her back and secured them. Another trooper ran his hands over her, carefully making sure that she wasn’t concealing anything. Identification, equipment, radios, keys, anything interesting for intelligence was put into Ziploc baggies and tagged carefully. Azael inhaled the smell of Avon’s hair discreetly; he stood a bit too close and felt her against him, his body surging in response to her warmth. He pressed a little closer. “She’s just a little thing, Sarn’t, you sure she’s a soldier?”

The women were being forced into a line of zip tied prisoners and marched towards the rear, the first prisoners of the war. There were pop pop sounds of a firefight not far off and there was tension in the group. As Avon answered or did not answer questions the women were hustled along, an occasional shove or smack to the backside done to motivate them.

The squad rushed in towards the clearing, but there were a few shots fired, one soldier grunting and falling to his knees in response. A series of short bursts of assault rifle fire came in response as the Edomites went to ground. The squad leader fired a 40mm grenade launcher round in response.

Captain Avare kept the rest of his company moving, sweeping through the woods, looking for more enemy soldiers.

Weira, Crove Region

The New Edomites moved into the town, soldiers moving in skirmish positions to surround it while vehicles lumbered along with them, lights blazing at anyone moving. As women came out with their hands out, more than one Edomite muttered about how weird a sight it was—a town entirely full of females, nothing else.

The C Company Commander didn’t want to really do much more than control this town, establish whether there were enemy units in it and then move on, so mostly his soldiers were looking for weapons, for obvious political leaders, for materiel of any kind. He did not want to do house to house searches yet. There were no Ministry of Police officials with them yet. The soldiers seemed grim and purposeful, barrels of rifles aiming at anyone moving.

“Ladies,” said a Lance-Corporal, marching along with his section, glancing at Elena and her neighbors, “How do you like this way of our moving towards the feminist way of life?”

Overhead, 20 helicopters were moving in flights of four in v formations spread out, their rotors thundering in the sky. They moved swiftly past the village and the river, headed towards Novina.

Novina

The 24th Lancers Regiment had one squadron moving forward, consisting of 10 RH-77 Canondale Attack Helicopters and 10 TH-300 Lakota utility Helicopters had begun to to advance. They were the cream of the New Edomite Army , the troops who had been the most well trained, disciplined and consistently effective in the “Gay War” and the Conflict in Hutanjia.


The troopers were moving in swift orderly lines into the waiting birds in their forest pattern battle dress, armed with AK-94 assault rifles, squad automatic weapons, Light general purpose machineguns, grenade launchers and with a heavy weapons platoon per company. They were outfitted with new multispectral camouflage uniforms, with blacktalon combat gloves. They still had old fashioned Makarov pistols and slightly curved combat knives that were wickedly edged on each side. They were veterans of the, all of them except a handful of new recruits from the last few months. In spite of this they were mostly young, between 18 and 22; in the regiment a man or woman of thirty was and oldster.


Each of the 12 TH-300 Lakotas carried 24 troopers. There were 266 altogether; 3 Lancer Troops of 60 each; 1 Command Post of 20; 1 Heavy Weapons Troop of 40; 1 Medical Platoon of 26. Then there were 10 RH-77 Canondale Stealth Attack Helicopters. Each had a crew of 2.

The commander, Count Adam Jepthah, was flying out with the first squadron himself since the General Officer Commanding was with the second.


It was well known that the Old Man was tough; back home he was the sort of person who hunted Terror Birds with a crossbow and spear because it was ‘more sporting’. But he knew it impressed the Lancers to see that he and his officers were not soft desk or heli jockeys; they would see the Old Man out there swatting mosquitoes and supervising setting up claymore and trip flare lines, while helicopter movements gave a deceptive impression of where they were setting down with the ambushes flanking.

Below them, on the ground, the 28th Hussars were still moving steadily along the road in broken up little convoys to avoid a massive ambush. The tanks, APCs and fighting vehicles bristled with armaments and were well prepared in case of an unexpected rocket attack, though a heavier attack might penetrate their amour or damage their wheels or treads.

A new series of shell bursts struck towards the city. These were guided by drones, again, aimed at potential staging areas for the enemy. They may have targeted them due to misinformation, but nevertheless it was believed that shelling would rattle the enemy, soften up targets for the avalance of soldiers that was to follow.

To: Ambassador Katara Telta fe Vangarra
From:Foreign Minister Hosidius Geta
Subject: New Feminia
Encryption: Moderate

---

Dear Madame Ambassador,

I hope this letter finds you well. And to Her Enlightened Majesty, and to all of the Imperial Family and all in authority, peace and good time of day.

It is as shocking to me as to you that this crisis with New Feminia has arisen. I am forwarding to you all correspondence which has recently passed between my government and New Feminia. As you will see, ther e was little attempt on the part of the New Feminian government to respond with any spirit of diplomacy. As you I hope are aware, we do not necessarily allow such things to even come to a point of hostility in correspondence. However the shootings at the border and the defiance in response to our concerns have made it impossible to have anything short of a military response.

Naturally, we would be glad to have all Shrailleeni help in our intention of having a peaceful outcome. I will forward your concerns to President Nicanor, and he will naturally advise the King and Queen of them, and I will get back to you as soon as I can.
I have the honour to be,

Hosidius Geta,
Minister of Foreign Affairs

To:Ambassador Jacob Lee
From:President Adam Nicanor
Subject:New Feminia
Encryption:Most Secret, Eyes Only

---

Your Excellency,

Thank you for your warm congratulations and good wishes. I am sorry that in order for me to be in this position General Pahath-Moab had to pass on to the next world, but such is life; we are, we mortals, but grass in the oven.

I am also grateful for the loyalty and devotion of your country, of you particularly, and the leaders of your nation, who stood by us in good times and bad. Such a thing is friendship, and it is a rare thing indeed.

I am forwarding to you all the letters between myself, Hositius Geta and Jennifer White that will show you the startling arrogance of this unqualified young woman who has imagined herself a great stateswoman and defied reason, wisdom and law in provoking our nation to war. You may rest assured that she will be taught a firm lesson indeed.

As to the Jedorians: we are also sharing intelligence with you now, which is as fresh as a new fallen apple, of what a paper tiger Jedoria truly is. It will show that their supposed thousands of tanks and artillery are in many cases nothing but wooden or rubber models; how some of their divisions are paper, and how many of their soldiers have not been paid in months. How so much effort has to be expended just to keep order among citizens who are daily mistreated by the atheistic mob now running the country that their country is all but defunct.

There may be areas where a Magist or Christian minority is so oppressed that they might welcome our intervention. I recommend that our chiefs of staff jointly review this information. If they cannot defend New Feminia, there may be a chance to deal a blow to atheism and unrighteousness in the region and in addition liberate many of the faithful of both our faiths.

I look forward to hearing from you.

I have the honour to be
General Adam Nicanor
President of the Council of Ministers

To:Admiral Rothbard
From: President Nicanor
Subject: Re: congratulations
Encryption: moderate

---

My dear Admiral Rothbard,

The congratulations of the worthy are the truest praise. I am honoured that an old comrade writes to me, and I am almost wistful for those days when we both were able to serve so simply. However my country has called me to this duty and I will fulfill it. Rest assured, you are always welcome by my side and in my house.

I urge you now to be alert, lest the Jedorians have something up their sleeves. They are a sly, enigmatic people and must be watched. I am well assured that you are my ally in these uncertain times.

I have the honour to be
General Adam Nicanor
President of the Council of Ministers

To:President Jennifer White
From: President Adam Nicanor
Subject: Surrender
Encryption: Moderate

---

Dear President White,

As you are now aware, the army, navy and air force of New Edom have swept over your borders virtually unopposed, in retaliation for your lack of cooperation with our security concerns. This could have been easily avoided. I am sure you now regret the losses on your own side which are a result of your stubbornness?

Now it is time for you to deal with reality. You cannot hold off New Edomite forces. You must consider a surrender. I have no intention at this time of conquering your country, but rather of ending a threat. You can, by being honest and fair and open, avoid further unpleasantness.

These are the terms:
1. Command your forces (such as they are) to stand down. They will be unharmed.
2. Agree to accept the terms originally proposed by Foreign Minister Geta.
3. Surrender yourself and leaders of your government to my soldiers, whereupon you will be transported here, to Fineberg, until such time as we are sure there is no further threat.
4. Agree to a new election of more experienced persons.
5. Agree to enter talks discussing the return of citizens of male origin to New Feminia to take up their rightful place in sectors of business, military and government.

Please consider your response very carefully. I may be willing to consider a fair counter offer.

I have the honour to be
Adam Nicanor
President of the Council of Ministers

[New Feminia]

Novina

Grace had not stopped screaming since the shelling had started. She couldn't help it; she'd fired guns, thrown grenades and participated in war games since she'd joined the partisans, but when the shells had come over with their roaring chorus it had been too much. She looked around. Clovis and two of the Betties, Hanna and Ashley, were putting out a fire on a sleeping tent. She wanted to go help them but she was rooted to the spot.

"Stop screaming, honey," said Kemp who appeared Syu her side. When Grace found herself unable to stop she reached out and slapped her across the face.

"Sorry, honey," she said. "You were hysterical. This shit?" she said, gesturing to the shells now embedded in the grass, "this is round one. Next they're going in for the kill." She handed over an MP5. "Very soon you're gonna have to use this. You see a man, or a woman that ain't ours? Blast 'em. Can you do that for me?"

Grace nodded, resolute. "You can count on me."

"Attagirl." Kemp slapped her on the back. "Okay ladies!"
she said, moving on, "get ready for the fight of your lives!"

The Border

Captain Avon had never felt so low. She felt all eyes on her, and she hated it. With her hands in the air, she forced out an answer to Tessik's question.

"Captain Lauren Avon," she said, meekly. "4th Riflewomen."

Soon she found herself strictly bound by cable tie. Running would be impossible now even if she'd entertained the notion. She remained silent as she felt Azael pawing over her, swamped with regret for being weak enough to become a prisoner. When he mocked her to his sergeant, she felt herself on the verge of tears, but fought to retain at least a little bit of dignity. Upon being led with the others, she heard gunfire not far back. This brought to her the true cost of her cowardice: she'd just cost the lives of all the women who had been brave enough to stay.

Her guilt was visceral. She felt a physical pain that tormented her in the pit of her stomach. She had to do something, anything, to atone.

"Excuse me, sir," she said weakly to one of the soldiers, who had just slapped Carmina on the arse hard. "May I speak to your sergeant again? Please. It'll only take a moment."

At the time Lauren Avon was being lead away, Natasha Green was just regaining her vision. They were under heavy fire. She moved to grab her gun but as her arm moved, she felt an impact. No, three impacts. Painful ones. It wasn't for about a second that she realised she'd taken hits. The pain was intense, and looking around, she wasn't the only one. As the grenade came into view, one clear thought came through the agony.

Well, it said, no more dog collars at lea-

She was unable to finish the last little bit of the word as her jaw got ripped out by the blast. She died free, and she died quick, and so did the rest of the troop. What followed was peace.

Weira

Elena was scared to death. Before today, nothing had ever happened like this, but now there were guns being pointed in her face. She felt a strong pang of anger against Erin, whose actions could have doomed the village. But that thought brought another one with it: what if Erin had been caught?

Her eyes flicked to the the house that used to belong to Ms Harman, their neighbour. When she had died, no one had bought it, and in happier times the girls had played in it. When Erin had had an argument with their mother, which happened often, she would let Elena she was in the house by closing the shutters to the attic window. It was their secret code. Sure enough, closed. Erin had never left; the enemy had probably formed a perimeter around the village. Elena panicked. There were plenty of places to hide in the attic but if they started searching houses and thoroughly enough, they would find her. Much as she disliked her sister most of the time, she wasn't going to let her get captured. She had to encourage the army to push on, to leave a skeleton squad behind that Erin could easily evade.

"Hello, sir," she said, addressing the Lance-Corporal who had spoken and putting on the most humiliatingly cutesy voice she could manage, and bowing and curtseying. "I'm sorry for speaking out of turn, I'm only a silly girl. But were you looking for the partisans? The..." she paused for a moment trying to think of a name. "The Murder Girls? They're not here anymore. They head out a few months ago. Good riddance, I say!" She smiled, nervously.

Femis

Jennifer read through Nicanor's message becoming more and more scared by the second. It seemed the only salvation...for everyone apart from her and her closest advisors. She knew she could never place her own safety over her countrywomen, but her survival instinct was going into overdrive. She looked down and opened the drawer she'd placed the gun in. If she pulled the trigger, it would be instant. People would blame her, but she would have no way of hearing them wherever she was going. It was tempting.

Her suicidal thoughts were interrupted by Carla. She was so wrapped up in them that she hadn't heard her enter, just perked up when the door closed behind her.

"Ever hear of knocking?" she said irritably.

"Sorry," said Carla, in a voice that sounded anything but. It had an unusual edge to it. "I just need you to sign some paperwork and I'll be on my way."

"What paperwork?" she demanded.

"Nothing important," said Carla, and passed her a single sheet to read.

To the Honourable President Nicanor,

I would like to open my response by saying how sorry I am for refusing your very reasonable security requests. I am sorry for allowing this conflict to escalate and I hold myself personally responsible for all New Edom army personnel who have tragically lost their lives. On a personal note, I would like to apologise for the disrespect I have shown you in our communiques. You are a man of honour and I am not fit to share your presence.

While I agree to all of your conditions, please do not hold my government responsible for my actions, which were motivated by inexperience and arrogance. I alone should serve as a hostage, and I beg you to allow my subordinates to stay in Femis as a provisional government pending a future election.

I will be arriving via the presidential helicopter not long after you receive this message. I hope my hostageship can be taken as a sign of good faith and future peace between our nations.

Signed,

Former President Jennifer White

Jennifer stared at Carla with fury. "How dare you?" she asked. "I'm not going anywhere, and I'm certainly not signing that."

"That's okay," said Carla. "I prepared a second one, you don't have to sign this." She took a second sheet out of her pocket and slid it over.

To the Honourable President Nicanor,

It is my delight to make your acquaintance. My name is Carla Barton, I am Jennifer White's Defence Minister. I hope you will forgive the rudeness of this unsolicited reply but I feel I must make you aware that I have taken matters into my own hands in regards to our unnecessary military conflict.

While I have a great deal of respect for Ms White , I feel that I can no longer stand by while others suffer for her actions. Tonight I have apprehended Ms White and am sending her to you. I know that you requested all government heads as hostages, but I humbly beg that we be allowed to remain and form a provisional government, one that is of course in compliance with all safely measures and pending an election. I hate to point fingers, but the war was the failing of Ms White, who disregarded our advice at every turn. For the good of New Feminia I ask that she be placed in your care permanently, and never be given the option to return.

I hope this is the start of a bright future.

Signed
Carla Barton
New Feminia Defence Minister

"Are you threatening me?" demanded Jennifer.

"I am," said Carla. "It's nothing personal, but someone has to clean up this mess. I assure you...one of these is going out."

"Is that a fact?" asked Jennifer coldly. She reached into the desk drawer and pointed the gun at her minister. Carla, to her surprise, laughed out loud.

"Please shoot me with that," she said, chuckling. "I want to see your face." She extended a leg. "Shoot me in the leg. It won't kill me but you will incapacitate me and be able to leave this room. Go on. Please."

Jennifer's eyes widened in horror when she realised what Carla had done. She looked at the gun, turned it in her hands, and fired at the ceiling to confirm her suspicions. When all she heard was a click, her face contorted. "How could you?" she demanded.

Carla shrugged. "I'm sorry. Someone has to think about the wellbeing of our nation. Gaia knows you're not. Imagine it... a war's going on and the president kills herself? Any hope we'd have would be crushed. You'd doom the war effort and the country with one pull of a trigger." She shook her head. "I'm sorry it had to come to this." Taking out a gun of her own, a Desert Eagle, she called out, "Guards? Tie her up and take her to the chopper."

[New Edom]

Crove Region, the Border

The captive women were being brought towards a waiting convoy of two and a half ton trucks, guarded by more Edomite soldiers, these being from a transport and logistics battalion. There were some women among them. One of these, a tough angular faced woman with a buzz cut, barked, “Form a line on the right side of the road, ladies, move by the numbers!”

“Oh, you’re in for it now,” remarked Azael to Carmina and a couple of others nearby him. “Sergeant Daphnis? She’s gonna eat you alive. She hates lezzies.” A couple of the soldiers chuckled. Sergeant Daphnis overheard this and gave him a middle finger, at which they laughed more.

“Knock it off, Azael,” snapped Tessik. He looked at Lauren Avon. “This one’s an officer. Separate the officers.” When she spoke up he turned to her. “What is it, Captain Avon?” somehow his tone suggested that he did not actually respect her rank but was following a procedure.

While they were talking, Sergeant Daphnis said to the enlisted women, “I am Sergeant Daphnis, Logistics and Transport, 16th Mounted. You are all enemy prisoners. You will do what you are told, when I tell you to do it, or you will feel a pain in your rumps.” She moved down the line of them, glaring and defying them to answer back. “Now…all of you remain still.” Soldiers moving behind them slashed their zip ties. “If you try to escape, you’re going to be shot. Hopefully wounded so we can let you bleed out on some barbed wire. Get your clothes off. Undies only. Put your uniforms in a neat pile before you. A neat pile, you sluts, or by the living Christ I’ll decorate your bodies with bruises. Strip!”

There were eyes of the other L&T troops on them. This was occurring even as Captain Avon made any reply to Tessik.

Novina

The ground rushed towards the Lancers as their helicopters bore them in to capture the roads, airfields and other key sites of the town. Count Jepthah grinned to the HQ unit personnel in the bird with him. “First in, last out, boys and girls!”

“AMEN, YOUR HONOUR!!!” they roared in response.

The helicopters of the first flight touched ground, the second and third flanking following swift after, and the Lancers began to bound out, moving for available cover, scanning for enemies. Any showing themselves got bursts of rifle fire and grenades hurled at them. Attack helicopters maintained a perimeter, watching for anything heavier, the pilots and gunners scanning with their HUDs and eager for action.

Weira

The Lance-Corporal and his three mates paused. “Partisans? What’s a silly little girl…” he paused to check out her figure but quickly moved his eyes back to her face, “Know about partisans, eh? How many were there, my honey? What were they armed with?”

The Lance-Corporal was a young man, a Baran, light olive of skin, brown of eye, dark brown of hair. Like many soldiers of the regular regiments, he came from a military class family where at least one child per generation served as a matter of honour and duty. He had crosses tattooed on his knuckles and a fierce bold expression on his face.

Not far off a six wheeled APC rumbled down the street. It halted and six soldiers hopped out and began checking the street farther down. An officer stood tall in the cupola of the vehicle. If any houses didn’t have people in front of them, a soldier would go and hammer on the door while others covered him. “Hey, didn’t you hear? Everyone out, New Edomite Army!”

Fineberg, New Edom

“This is an interesting development,” said General Josephus, passing on the message from Carla.

The Chiefs, Nicanor, Unwerth and the other senior personnel in the room checked the message, as Josephus read it aloud.

“Extraordinary,” said Unwerth. “Well, what shall we do?”

“The fighting has not stopped,” said General Augrim. “I advise that we accept the message and rquire a general cease fire which involves their surrender of arms.”

Nicanor nodded. “I think that will do. Well, gentlemen, this could be over in a matter of hours!!” He thumped the table. “God willing, of course…”

To Carla Barton, Feminian Defence Minister,

Thank you for writing to me. What you propose is extraordinary, but I think we can accept these terms. What must happen will be the following:
1. Your forces must lay down their arms and allow our forces to enter your capital and other cities unimpeded. In exchange, we promise to not harm your people, loot, destroy buildings and other acts of violence. Naturally we will defend ourselves to the best of our ability. If even one unit under your command fails to comply, the district in which it takes place will be designated a war zone.
2. You and your government will be considered a provisional government but must act under the advisement of initially our senior commander in Feminia, General Simon Daniels, and later a representative and staff of our own government as we figure out how to deal with the security crisis. You will initiate no policies without consulting us.
3. Jennifer White and any prisoners we capture until the cease fire is in place will remain in custody until all security issues are resolved. She is to be delivered under flag of truce to the village of Weira.

I commend your level headedness and wisdom. I look forward to your prompt reply.

I have the honour to be
Adam Nicanor,
President of the Council of Ministers

Nicanor shook his head. “This Defense Minister is the only sensible woman in the place, I imagine. Unless this is a ruse, we must make good use of her.”

“The place is crawling with feminists, socialists and witches,” said Unwerth. “Who will govern it?”

Nicanor chuckled, “You know we’ve done so well so quickly I have no idea! But we’ll think of someone…”

[New Feminia]

The Border

"Thank you for your time," said Avon nervously. "I know that...wherever these girls are going, they're in for a bad time. But," she paused, "They're only prisoners because of me, I ran and they followed me because I was the. I can't handle such guilt. So I'd like to make you a proposal...let these girls go. They can go back to the village. In return, anything that was going to be done to them can be done to me. Tenfold, if needs be. I know I'm your prisoner anyway, but face it...a quarter of those girls will try to escape at some point and get shot. Others will take a more direct route out. With me, you'll have a girl who will never run away, say no or resist. If you like, you can insist the girls stay in the village, so if I ever let down my end of the bargain you could pick them right up again." She dropped to her knees gracefully, a difficult feat with her hands tied. "Please sir. Let them go."

As she spoke the girls began to strip, terrified for the dark future they faced, and unknowing that there was a chance, however slim, of Avon saving them.

Novina

From the moment the cease-fire order had been given out, the camp had been chaos. A third of the girls wanted to cut and run but their perimeter was surrounded. Others wanted to resist the ceasefire, keep on shooting. It was one girl, one of the Softball Furies, that suggested that if they all died here, there would be no one to save New Feminia if the truce went south.

"Yeah," said a member of the Savage Hunnies, "but how we gonna stop them taking us out?"

Before long they had a long strip of sheet from one of the tents and a black marker. In large letters they wrote the word TRUCE and raised it in the air. Grace was one of the hands holding it.

Weira

Elena faked a smile. "Oh, I don't know sir! There were ten...maybe twenty of them. And they had guns that go dadadadada!" She mimicked an automatic. She hoped Erin could not hear this ludicrous performance, or help or no she would be mocked.

Seeing the soldiers focus on empty houses, she changed her tactics. "But I'm being so rude! You've had a long journey. Why don't you and your men follow me to our local tavern? I'm sure some beers are in order for brave soldiers, on the house of course. Only you must'nt let me drink too much, sir, I'm a bad girl once I've had a few..."

A few kilometres from their position, Jennifer White was tied up in the back of the New Feminian presidential helicopter. Throughout the journey she had screamed for mercy, her resolve gone. Her guards either couldn't hear her over the noise or pretended not to. She knew that they would be in Weira soon. Not for the first time, she began to cry. Betrayed by her government and handed over as a gift to men who wanted to see her brought down and degraded.

She decided she couldn't blame Carla. The woman had been acting out of desperation. If she ever returned to New Feminia, she would shoot Carla right in the face, but she would feel ever so guilty about it afterwards.

A few minutes later, they made their descent.

Femis

Carla read the message several times, trying to sense out any veiled threats or ambiguity. It was, she concluded, fair. The only part that worried her was the appointment of General Daniels, but she knew she had the strength of character to not let him treat her like a puppet or lapdog. She composed her response.

To the Honourable President Nicanor

I am glad to hear of the conditions and accept them without question. I have issued an immediate order to the partisans and our regular army out of the capital to cease any hostilities. The partisans are wild but they are loyal, and will respect my wishes.

I would welcome the oversight of General Daniels, and will receive him with full honours. I have sent Ms White to Weira, and I hope you can become acquaintanted with her soon.

Signed
Carla Barton
(Caretaker) President, New Feminia

[New Edom]

The Border

Sergeant Tessik frowned. “I cannot do that, Captain. I must follow my orders. Your girls have to follow our orders and get in the truck without their uniforms. I promise you, they will not be harmed as long as they do not resist. They have to be held because the war is not yet over.”

“However,” he said, looking at her, “You can set a good a good example.” He leaned down and sliced her zip ties off. “Remove all your clothing like a good girl.” He paused for effect. “Once you have done that, kneel down with your hands on your head. And then tell me about yourself—have you ever had children? Are you a lesbian? Do you have any faith?”

Meanwhile the other girls were ordered to continue and then line up by one of the trucks. The men in particular eyed them curiously, curious about the underwear they wore, the shape of their bodies, how youthful they were.

Novina

Helicopters continued to hover overhead. One of the gunners in one of the gunships sighed and moved his hands away from the button. “Damn. No kills today.”

Colonel Count Jepthath saw the white flag, and ordered soldiers forward to order the women to halt. He then went forward himself, in his battle dress, rifle slung, aides following cautiously and warily. He looked Grace in the eye.

“I am Count Jepthah, commander of the 24th Lancers. Are you empowered to surrender forces in this area? If you are, then assemble your people in a line, place your arms down and place your hands on your heads.”

Weira

The Lance-Corporal suddenly stared at Elena. “Uh huh. Cute. How about this, honey, why don’t you shut that cute little mouth of yours and stop giving us suggestions. Sergeant? I think we need to check out these empty houses. I think we got someone worth questioning here.”

Then he pointed a blunt finger at Elena. “You stand where you are, put your hands on your head. You want to distract me from my duties, bitch, get me drunk when we’re looking for people?”

Clearly the other squad down the street were coming in at his call, and were about to search Eelna’s house.

The Government

Ironically, the Feminian government had surrendered so quickly that the Edomites were nowhere near ready to move right to Femis. They were ordered to make preparations for the arrival of the new Edomite leaders. General Daniels would be there in approximately an hour.

Meanwhile, Jennifer, arriving at the village, found a company of New Edomite mechanized troops facing it with hostile wary expressions. A man stepped forward and looked at her. “I am Captain Geryone,” he said. “My orders are to have you searched and then prepared for transport back to new Edom, Your Excellency.” He took her by the arm and led her away from the helicopters with others surrounding them. She would be able to smell male sweat, leather, uniform material, weapons oils. They began to carefully pat her down, go through her pockets, ran hands around her stomach, back, waist and through her hair.

“Do you have any medical conditions we should know about?” asked Geryone. “Any medicines you require?” He was stunned...he'd expected some old battle axe, but the president was gorgeous. His men were surrounding her like wolves, and he had to restore discipline. He snapped, "Sergeant-Major, these men have duties."

"Sir! No one told you rats to stop working!" growled the sergeant major leaving just Geryone, the medic and intelligence NCO near her.