The Fascist Dilemma IC(CLOSED, TWI ONLY)

by **Covonant** » Sat Oct 21, 2017 9:54 pm

The Fascist Dilemma

RULES
*Normal TWI rules apply.
*Please only post once you have outlined your role in the OOC.
*Reminder - This RP is TWI ONLY, please do not join if you are not on the map of TWI and do not have established factbooks.
*Please do not tag the IC

by **Athara Magarat** » Sun Oct 22, 2017 5:57 pm

"...The EUSR has been gradually deploying more and more number of troops. It is estimated that the number of EUSR soldiers in Kachee ranges anywhere from 500-3,000. The EUSR transport ships have also been ferrying several surface to air missile emplacements and LU-1 fighters to teh Kachee People's Islamic Republic..."

The grandmother switched the channel to a food program by a Corindi chef. "Dear, it's the same old story as always." The grandfather grumbled, "But the War of the Beasts is coming. The EUSR Dragon continues tarnishing everything: Ketseluvianism, Khas-Kirati kinship, Aprosiatic culture, the socialist revolutionary ideology and our shared nomadic history as a whole."

The grandson who was doing his Geography homework looked up at his grandparents and went to their conversation. "But what can we do, grandfather? Nothing. We are one of the smallest nations in the Isles while the EUSR is the largest."

"Which is why I say the good old times...We used to be feared by everyone and now look at us. Even the crazy San Montagnan dictator might think this nation is too soft and invade anytime."

"Now, enough of the politics. You all know I hate it." The grandmother said as she raised the volume. "We all should act like a family and learn to make some good Corindi dishes."

The grandson massaged the legs of the grumbling grandfather and gave him a glass of hot water to ease his mood. The boy knew his grandfather hated watching anything else than some interesting news. Little did they or anyone in Myagdi Island or the whole Demokratik Kuunsrach knew what was to transpire next.

by **San Montagna** » Sun Oct 22, 2017 7:09 pm

Zero hour:

Giorgio Zito leads his squadron of 25 vulture fighters. His squadron is ordered to attack the Covonantian base in Tiwe Sivn, strikes like this one are to happen elsewhere in Athara Magarat, the New libang airport, Athara Magarati military bases, the 8 ships stationed in Atish town and little Merrit as well as strikes on Myagdi island, before the invasion there occurs.

Giorgio is largely indifferent to this war, slightly happy because it means he sees action. He hasn’t seen action in his entire 10 year career in the air force, he was even set aside during the air raids on the Mario island insurgents.

He speaks to his squadron: “ we are closing in on the target, Prepare yourselves, over”

“Roger that, locked and loaded”

“Pick a target”

“Roger that”

“Me, Eagle-5, Eagle-6, and Eagle-7 have the airstrip and any aircraft on it, over””

“Yeah, leave us out of the fun”

“just do what I say, Eagle-12”

“Just call me Davide, Eagle-Leader, or should I say Giorgio”

“I’ll stick to Eagle-12”

They close ever closer on the base, eventually it slips into sight, the fighters get a glimpse at the ships.

“Ok, Eagles,choose a target, the one in front of you is preferable”

“Roger that, I’m in on a cruiser”

“Over, Eagle-14”

Aster Missiles, launched from Cruisers, strike the base, striking several buildings and some hangars
“that’s the first strike, now it's our turn.”

as they got into range, they launched their loads on the Ships sinking or damaging them, as well as the Hangars, most of them collapsing, and finally the Airstrips. temporarily disabling the Covonantian aircraft from take off. Explosions rocked the ground as Covonantian soldiers scrambled for cover, Several more Runs were made before they then flew off back to the Carrier. Behind them was a devastated Harbour, Hangars and Airstrip.

Little Merrit and Atish Town:
Zero hour+ 10 minutes

“Get ready to fire those torpedoes”

Subs under the command of Ian Gillian, the son of an english Immigrant, had infiltrated the harbour in Little Merrit and Atish town to strike the remaining Athara Magarati ships not stationed near the Kachee Sultanate.

An air attack had already damaged a few of the ships and the surrounding Areas, and now it was up to them to finish off what was left, at his command was the submarine the Deep purple, and 6 other subs. Farther off was a destroyer supporting the operation.

He and his Submarines were undetected, most of the vessel’s crews were absent from their ships.

As he got into position to fire, he contacted the other submarines.

“In position?”

“Yes sir”

“Ok, on my command fire....Three, two, one, FIRE!!!”

All 7 subs released their torpedoes, who rushed to the Athara Magarati Vessels, then Spectacularly Exploded in a great ball of fire. The few Crewmen on board jumped out and swam to shore, saving themselves from the flames. Many of the vessels began to sink, disappearing under the waves, while some stayed afloat albeit damaged and on fire. Ian then contacted the Destroyer,

“The vessels are critical, this mission is over, am heading back to base, over”

“Roger that, am escorting”

The Subs then began heading back to where they came from, leaving behind a harbor in flames.

the shores of Myagdi Island
Zero Hour+30 minutes

Destroyers Bombard the shores while Several landing crafts are ready to leave to land at anytime. There are two other landing parties, these are too trick the Athara Magaratian military that the main attack is too push for New Libang, while it is truly to attack the Island. shells strike the tip of the residential are, as well as the out skirts of the Industrial area. Overhead flew Planes, dropping bombs on the island as well.

"How are the other landings going?" Asked General Silvio, to his Operator.

"Still nead to get the message sir"

"Well get it soon"

"Yes Sir"

The plan was well done, land first near New libang, drawing the main force, while the Myagdi Island force only has too deal with a few soldiers and some police, well that and the ticking flu, but the soldiers were well prepared for that. What he could not believe was how they got there almost undetected, under the guise of a Force sent to Belle Ilse en Terre for a joint training exercise, The Forces then switched course that same morning, ready to strike.

"Sir!!"

"yes?"

"I've got it, they've just began landing 10 minutes ago."

"Tell our officers its time, when the horn blows, they go"

"yes Sir"

He waited anxiously as the time ticked down on his watch, the campaign relied so heavily on this landing, it could not go wrong for his own sake, unless he liked a lifetime in prison on the orders of Franco. He then scanned Myagdi Island for a while, Seeing families escape wrecked houses on the tip of the residential area, While some never made it out. It didn't really like seeing it, but he knew it was necessary, or the same thing would happen to his family. He took another look at his watch, precisely on time.

"Blow the horn"

"yes sir"

As soon as the horn blew, more than 30 000 soldiers, crammed into landing crafts, began sailing towards the Island. In the meantime, the Destroyers sent shells of smoke to mask the attacking force. Soon enough, the Troops unloaded from their crafts and began the assault.

by **Verona Beach** » Sun Oct 22, 2017 7:29 pm

Zulu Day+30 min
A South Mesder Monitoring Station, 1st Fleet

"WHAT?!" The lieutenant practically screamed, a blood vessel about to burst on his neck. "They WHAT?! They've gotten past us and are bombarding Athara Magarat?! What the hell are you doing? How'd they pass the radar? The advanced scouts? The regular scouts? The-"

"The- Just... Get everyone scrambled."

And scrambled they were. The first group of the JEF fleet, made up of Albionite and Veronite vessels, was suddenly jolted from their sleep and began steaming full speed to strike San Montagna and remove any tactical threats there and on it's way to there. The Special Air Service was riding with them, prepared to act drastically on land or at sea.

The second group, including the lax monitoring room, was steaming full charge to Athara Magarat to remove any San Montagnan troops, vessels and airplanes and meet up with Covonantian troops.

The Air Service was similarly split, with squadrons heading from Carmo Airbase to remove San Montagnan air capacity, to bomb airfields, and presumably remove any new troop shipments departing from the country while establishing air dominance to allow for more troop insertion and resupply. Other squadrons were heading to remove the assumed threat of San Montagnan landings, with the addtional objective of wresting back air superiority in favor of Athara Magarat.

All in all, the Veronites were pretty chuffed. All the San Montagnan equipment seemed so obsolete and terrible that this would be an Italian turkey shoot. The men were moralized, well-armed, and well-trained.

The news parroted this enthusiasm by sweeping away the fact that a 70 year old fleet slipped past the best radar in the world and bragged about how 'our lads' were armed and ready to tackle the fascists and have a right spoil at it, too! The Veronite upper lip, inherited through their British former overlords, had generally formed into a pleased grin.

by **Covonant** » Sun Oct 22, 2017 9:38 pm

Palatine Manor, Coventry (Prime Minister's Residence)-10:30 am

Prime Minister Crassus Gais had woken up with a terrible feeling. A feeling that something catastrophic was near to happen. He paced his room trying eagerly to get dressed. His mind fluttering and thoughts hard to make sense. He was for the first time since assuming the Prime Minister-ship was worried.

"The incompetent bastard Benito. He is a mad man. He would not dare test us" Crassus uttered out loud grabbing the attention of his wife Cynthia Gais who was busy reading the local papers.

"Do not worry Crassus, I assure you, Benito might be a mad man, but he is not stupid. He is bluffing. Tomorrow will come and we will see that he is a man with all bark lacking bite. Come let me fix your tie" Cynthia expressed as she walked towards him to straighten his tie. He kissed her gently on both cheeks, still feeling a bit perturbed.

Knock Knock Knock

"Enter" Crassus shouted.

"Good Morning Sir" Stated Emily, the Prime Minister's personal Aide. She was a bit enthusiatic to work at the Palatine Manor. Already two months in and she still finds the experience surreal. Emily was a bit shy and sometimes found it hard to produce her speech properly.

"Yes Emily, what is it" Asked Cynthia

"Well Maam, the Defense Minister wants to see the Prime Minister. I mean the Minister of Defense request a meeting. Sir" Emily expressed somewhat nervously.

"Thanks Emily. See him escorted to the Yellow Room I shall be there shortly"

"Sir"

"I think you should fire her Crassus, she still hasn't grasped a level of etiquette in your presence" Cynthia advised.

"Give her time, she just needs more experience, and beside she is young. Let's not be hard on her. She hasn't stepped out of line to warrant such an action. Anyways, Crixus must have good news for me. I assume he will tell me that Benito has come to his senses." Crassus said almost reassuringly in his own attempt to ease his troubled mind. He kissed Cynthia on her lips and walked briskly out of his private quarters into the corridors of the Palatine. He walked alone towards the Yellow room, although he knew his every move was being monitored by Praetorian Guard but living under such surveillance for roughly three months he got somewhat use to it.

Eeek, thump

"Crixus I hope you have good news for me" Crassus expressed as he walked in and closed the door.

"Good Morning Sir, I afraid not. We believe the San Montagnans are preparing an attack on Athara Magarat. They may carry out the attacks tomorrow or even Tuesday. Try to catch us off guard sir"
Crixus informed.

"He would be mad to try. I have already stated any attack on Athara Magarat, and we will destroy them." Crassus shouted, clearly expressing his anger.

"That's not all sir. They may try to attack our base there. We have strong leads that suggest that if they attack Athara Magarat, our base and troops there will be targetted"

"They wouldn't dare. If they so much as fire a shot, I will make sure they pay. Are our troops there aware of such. Inform me, how prepared are my troops there" Crassus demanded.

"Very prepared Sir. It won't be an easy attack. Our systems are locked and loaded" Crixus assured.

"They better" Crassus noted.

Base Septimus, Tiwe Sivn, Athara Magarat-3:15 pm

It was business as usual at Base Septimus. The large Covonantian Naval Base was a testament to Covonant's influence and power in the Mesder. The large base housed many of Covonant's ship that patrolled the South and Central Mesder Sea with few devoted to lending defense to Athara Magarat, Covonant's recognized zone of Peace. The flag perched in the centre of the base, proudly depicted that the base was foreign, the men and women contained within its walls were also foreign. The new rotated troops could be seen departing from the additional ships (1 Missile Cruisers and 2 Destroyer) that came over from Gregoris Naval Base in Ipland. The mood was normal at the base. No one seemed not contented that the Fascist San Montagna would carry out an attack. Though new troops came, everything carried on as usual.

Titus Gabone was new to the Union Navy having joined only three months prior. His first enlistment was at Ailis Military Base on Flores, Corindia. He was not too particular with war or the navy, but thought it an easier route to University. As Titus disembarked, he was somewhat nervous. He thought to himself what if an attack really occurred. He still questioned how he passed his test to be enlisted in the Navy. He however continued with a deep hope that this would pass.

"Hey man, where were you based" Malachi, a Union Naval Sailor based at Base Septimus asked Titus. Malachi was 24 and eschewed somewhat youthful exuberance. A lover of adventure, and wanted a taste of war.

"What" Titus responded.

"Where were you based. I saw you coming off the Destroyer. I assumed you were rotated" Malachi asked with deeper explanation.

"Yea. I was based in the East, Corindia. I was told that my division were selected by the department to come here" Titus explained.

"The east. Near the Commies...Lucky. I wished I was based there. Action always over there. I have been here for 9 months and all we have done is drills and war games. Not much for action. How long have you been based in Corindia" Malachi asked, as he watched Titus settle in to the barrack.

"3 months. There has been much action but we haven't been deployed. They sent a good many there last week with what's going on with the EUSR and their invasion of Kachee and the problems in Charbagnia."

"3 months" Malachi expressed shockingly, as if he had ignored the other information Titus stated. "You're a Fresher" Malachi uttered with a laugh.

"Yea, I guess you can say that. I am only in the Navy to get into school. Tuition for my programme is expensive. If I do two years of this, the Navy pay it in full." Titus expressed.

"What you plan to study"

"Aviation Engineering. I rather design planes than fly. The Air Force requirements were too much for me to get in so I settled with the Navy" Titus said.

A voice on the intercom ordered all newly arrived troops to make there way to the Mess Hall for a brief report. Titus was about finished with packing. He said his goodbyes and went to find his way to the Hall.

5:15 PM
The room was filled with men and women that came from all over the Union, some from Gregoris Base in Ipland, but most from Ailis Base in Corindia. Titus stood at the extreme front. Admiral Tiberius Commodore had been promoted to head the Union of Covonant Navy Reserve. He made it his duty to ensure that rotated troops that fell under his directives were briefed of what could occur.

"Troops, you have been called for a great service. Not just service to the Union but service to the Mesder in ensuring her stability. We have a common enemy who will make no excuse to cower us but they don't know the force they will be up against. The same thing I told the other troops at this base is that you must all be on guard. We must not feel as though things can't change in a second. For now. I welcome you all to Base Septimus, eat, get some rest. But be prepared. We believe the San Montagnan forces are planning an attack on Athara Magarat. Do not be alarmed. Their outdated force is no match for us."

Titus mind was somewhat not interested in talks of war. He however tried to listen in, but his mind once again drifted to what sounded like airplanes. Must be a drill he thought to himself.

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, Boooommmm

There was a loud explosion heard outside the Mess Hall. Screams filled the air as more shots were fired. It all happened so fast. Titus stepped outside to his shock and amazement the Missile Cruiser that escorted the Destroyers he was a passenger one was on fire. Hangers that housed the 25 Rottweiler Helicopters were destroyed, the two coastal defenders that stood in the navy dock suffered minor damages, 4 GA2-Tarasque that were recently bought from Corindia that were housed in the same hanger as the Rottweilers were also destroyed. Dead troops bodies were seen lying on the ground some still on the ships and inside the hangar. It was a devastating seen. Covonant was attacked. Titus heart beating furiously. He ran closer to the seen, he saw in the distance Malachi lying face up with shards in his face. He was dead the metals from the Missile Cruiser made him there target. In the midst of the chaos the alarm went off. Covonant was attack.

Admiral Commodore rushed to the Command Centre. Furious he opened the doors. Men and Women busy trying to figure out how that happened.

"What the FUCK happened" Commodore shouted. "How did you miss them. It's a fucking outdated military, we have some of the best equipments in the Isles and you missed them. Not a Missile went off. Someone explain now" Commodore demanded.

"Sir, we don't know. It happened so fast. We don't know" expressed one of the service men operating the control centre.

"Send word to Coventry and Kanaute that the Union has been attacked. We await their orders." The Admiral ordered with a deep regret in his voice.

by **Athara Magarat** » Sun Oct 22, 2017 11:29 pm

Zulu Day+30 minutes

Residential Zones, Myagdi Island

"Where the heck is the army when we need them?" roared Sergeant Shreya Buduja as she clutched someone's crying baby in her arms.

"Probably in New Libang. The mayor has been unable to contact New Libang and vice versa. We do not know if help in on the way but we have to hold the enemy back with whatever we got." Sergeant Mow Rang Thulung reported as he returned from the mayor's office. "Load the civilians into the vans. We need to get them to a safe place."

"There is no safe place, sergeant! We have to fight these bastards back! The army may be on their way. If not today, surely by tomorrow, they will arrive with reinforcements from all C6 and JEF nations. Till then, we need to fight." Buduja raised her voice.

"Against an army? There's at least 30,000 of them here! Our priority should be to protect the civilians."

"And how the heck will you protect them without fighting back!" The constables who were helping the desperate civilians to get into the Ostehaar-made Vulf Armored Vehicles and Noronican Tiger Light Armoured Jeeps looked at their superiors bickering with angry eyes and the two sergeants fell silent as well.

"Churches. Whindist churches. Catholic churches. The San Montagnans will surely not attack the churches. We have to escort whoever we can find to the churches." Thulung spoke in a soft but understandable voice. "And if we come across some lone squads, then we engage them."

"Now you are talking like...Forget it, let's move boys and girls. You heard the sergeant. We need to search and find civilians before these San Montagnan pastas do." The Armed Police Force personals under Sergeant Buduja's command nodded and headed out in the two Tigers while the two Vulfs under command of Thulung headed in the opposite direction for the nearest Christian church of any denomination.

by **Ainslie** » Mon Oct 23, 2017 1:13 am

23/10/17
11:30am - Ainslie Eastern Standard Time
Laccore, Arnton, Ainslie.

Andrew Kenzai was sitting on a bench looking out at the River Burnett, as he slowly glanced over his shoulder - where his peripherals revealed the security guards he found so unnecessary. Despite this, he is glad that he can go outside in these times of terrorism and danger. He watches how the water flows over one another in a gradual, yet awe inspiring manner. He gazes intently as small flickers materialise into fish and then subside again into the river.

Arnton was not nearly as polluted as it could’ve been, and a large civil engineering project a couple decades ago made Laccore a very nice suburb to be in. It was the hub of Ahnslen federal governance. He truly loved this place. He stood up from the bench and aimlessly walked onto the pathway. No politician was much of a fan of the media, so security did an excellent job at restricting their access to the suburb. Kenzai could roam free along the riverside without reports running after him. He remembered that Ahnslen media was a bit more courteous than that anyway…

The autumn leaves were dancing as they descended from the tree above him. He watched as the shrivelled up leaves landed on the pathway. He was sad to see the leafiness of Laccore decay away, but was reminded of how spring gave way to new life - where the hope and beauty of nature opened up to the world once again after a significant and destructive event.

Once he exited this nature centric trance he had, what little comfort his surrounds gave him quickly diminished. His security guards were absorbed in their phones - more so than usual. This concerned him a little bit… maybe they were getting bored? He thought it was best to head into the Parliament offices once again.

He was met by Joseph Shirazi, Judicial Representative of Ainslie who filled him in on everything that happened on his morning walk. The serenity of the river quickly escaped him as his heart felt like it was falling. He quickly and sternly ordered the nearby Federal Corporal to get Gifford and Carboni immediately and fill them in on the way.

“Time to go to a press conference…”, Kenzai conceded as he rushed through the corridors of the offices. Black vehicles gave way to two concerned ministers, who were already aware of the situation.

“No time to go through the Senate, can we deploy 200 FedCors to Myagdi?”
“Why”
“Armex.”

Kenzai once again was disturbed.

“Let me guess, they thought they should keep dodgy chemicals down there”
“Yes.”
“Go for it… evacuate some citizens while you’re at it too… I’ll ask Ipacijit if they can open up Sitsern for us. Send the FedCors from Highstar.”
“Noted.”

Within an hour Kenzai was off the phone and confirmed to Carboni what they were hoping - Ipland was willing to open Sitsern Airport for evacuations. Kenzai, having barely stopped talking since two hours ago once again spoke, this time to his assistant.

“Shaping up to be a fun day… Where’s whitty?”
“Down the road with the Vancouvian.”
“Great… just great. Bring him up once he’s done.”

23/10/17
12:15pm - Ainslie Eastern Standard Time
Highstar Base - Zenrolo, Xrevaro

Major Lincoln Belmore sat at his desk with a coffee. He was in charge of a somewhat small group of people - 1000, 2000 at best. Highstar Base was mainly for disaster relief and surveillance purposes. The phone rung.

“Hi Belmore”
“Who’s this?”
“AMOD”
“An honour, Mr Carboni - How shall we serve you”
“We’ve got chemicals down in Myagdi at an Armex lab that need to be out of their ASAP. Also, we need to get Ahnslen Citizens out of there too. We do not believe that there are many on the island that do not work at the Armex facility - evacuate all the workers there and then get out. Go to Sitsern, we have made arrangements for their safe return to Ainslie. Remember, we don’t want a war. We'll need 200 down there.”
“Okay…”

Belmore quickly placed the phone down and yelled out of his office…

“Get 4 large storage aircraft up and going, and about 400 passengers worth of transport aircraft excluding pilots - we’re going to Myagdi. I’ll state objectives on the plane… This is a REACE-1 situation.”

by **Noronica** » Mon Oct 23, 2017 1:39 am

State Palace - Palace Green

Joshua placed his feet firmly on the ground, angled parallel to each other. His eyes darted across the grounds, focusing on a small hole that laying encircled by freshly cut grass. He took calm breaths then angled his arms upwards to the right of him, his eyes still focused on the hole. With a resounding whack he had struck his golf ball, letting it soar through the air before landing around a metre away from the hole. He turned to Beatrice who held a small smile as she took his place. Joshua smirked, not competitive at all, he thought.

Hearing disturbance on the gravel path behind him, Joshua turned to see his Chief of Staff Malcolm approach him. The man had a wide-eyed look, suggesting something was very wrong, a fact that concerned Joshua. Looking back at Beatrice who was walking over towards the hole, Joshua walked over to meet Malcolm as the man neared his position.

Malcolm spoke with his usual rough accent that held a gruffness to it, his worry evident, "Sir. I suggest it may be wise to follow me to the Red Room." His look that he gave to Joshua was non-negotiable, despite their positions. Something was definitely wrong and Joshua needed to know exactly what it was that was scaring his most trusted servant. Without a word, Joshua walked towards the Palace, Malcolm following behind. A few thoughts of what could have happened raced through Joshua's mind, his walk turning into a run as he neared the Palace.

State Palace - Red Room

Joshua entered the sliding door of the Red Room, noticing that his Chief of the Defence Staff, the First Sea Lord, the Chief of the General Staff and the Chief of the Air Staff were all in attendance concern evident on their faces. Joshua's eyes immediately darted to the central screen of the room which displayed footage of attacks in several cities. His mind raced to remember where he recognised some of the images. Then realisation hit him.

"Now sir, I suggest that-" The Chief of Defence Staff started, trying to calm the angering Prime Minister.

"You suggest what? Suggest what? Please, for the love of everything holy, tell that is not Athara Magarat. Tell me this is a fucking exercise for all I care." Joshua looked around, his Chiefs of Staff looking down at their feet, "Oh for fucks sake! Can none of you look me in the eyes and tell me what the fuck is going on! You are all soldiers, look me in the eyes." Joshua was ranting now, his eyes fixing on each person at the table.

His Chief of Defence Staff spoke up again, his confidence returning, "Sir. It does not make sense to get angry. Our ally Athara Magarat has been invaded by what has now been confirmed to be San Montagna, if we do not act rationally, we will not be able to-" He was cut off by Joshua who swiftly walked up to him, their noses almost touching.

"I could have you shot. Don't you presume to tell me how I should behave like a fucking child!" He slumped back down in his chair and left the Chief of Defence Staff to sit down shakily along with the rest of the Chiefs. Joshua's eyes glared at the screen, his fists clenched on the table. He considered for a second to call in a BIS officer and follow through with his threat, yet Joshua knew that would be entirely stupid and unproductive for the situation which seemed to be getting worse as he ranted. His face became cold, his eyes bereft of emotion.

Seeing an opportunity to speak, the First Sea Lord spoke up, "Sir, we have two destroyers, the NOS Sealord and NOS Grenadier, with three frigates, the NOS Gwynon and NOS Sinare. We have one Amazon-Class Auxiliary Ship with them as well. They should be in Magarati waters in half-an-hour as they were mobilised on your orders yesterday." Joshua nodded.

"I want a carrier-strike group with full a complement of aircraft." Joshua spoke icily to the Chief who nodded, deciding not to anger the Prime Minister,
"It shall be done, Sir. The NOS Tytus carrier shall be sent alongside the Truaidh Class destroyers, NOS Overlord, and NOS Virtue. They shall be accompanied by two Dagordh Class submarines, the NOS Dagordh and NOS Hunting, and an Amazon Class Auxiliary ship. This group was already on routine patrol, so it is currently in Covonant. It should be ready to move in a day. I suggest we also send a Hornet Class Amphibious Assault Ship with a complement of 1,500 marines." Joshua nodded again to the First Sea Lord who began calling the relevant people to begin mobilisation. Joshua was glad that the military was already on high-alert with tensions soaring around the Isles, the strike group would be ready soon.

The Chief of General Staff was next to speak, "The United Noronnican Army can be mobilised as well. I suggest that we send troops to Base Aegnys in Covonant. Shall I call the Covonantian Chiefs of Staff?" Joshua nodded to him as well, the Chief picking up the phone quickly and calling the Chiefs of Staff in Covonant.

Finally, the Chief of Air Staff turned to Joshua, "I shall coordinate with the Chief of General Staff by sending Albatross transport aircraft. I recommend sending fighters with them as well." Joshua's face betrayed a shark-like grin, "How long would it take to assemble an Invasion Group?" One the fighting in Athara Magarat was finished, San Montagna would be next.

"I'll contact the Covonantian Air Staff to see if they'll allow a larger air group on Base Aegnys."

Noronnican Federal Assembly

The entire Assembly had been called to assemble in the Federal Council Chamber. All 406 Members of Parliament stood before the Speaker's Dais where they were awaiting something. Some had an inkling of what was going on, while some of them stared blankly at the Dais, concerned about what was going to happen.

The Speaker of the Prefectorial Council who was in a higher position than the Speaker of the Federal Council stood on the central podium, "Members of the Federal Council, Members of the Prefectorial Council, I have the distinguished honour of presenting the Prime Minister of the Federal Overlordship of Noronica." Claps erupted and those who knew what was going on clapped louder.

Prime Minister Joshua McIntosh appeared before the Assembly, taking his place at the Dais, "Mr. Speaker of the Prefectorial Council, Ms. Speaker of the Federal Council, and Members of the Federal Council and the Prefectorial of Council:

Today, 23 October 2017, we found out that the sovereign territory of both the Democratic Republic of Athara Magarat and the Union of Covonant was suddenly and deliberately assaulted by the naval and air forces of the Fascist Republic of San Montagna.

The Overlordship of Noronica was at peace with San Montagna and our diplomats had pressed for peace in the Mesder, yet we as a nation were shocked to see the peace broken by the San Montagnians who made a dangerous mistake in attacking our long-held allies.

It shall be recorded that the size and regimented efforts of the invasion force make it obvious that the invasion was deliberately planned for many days, weeks, or months. The attack on the Democratic Republic of Athara Magarat has caused severe damage to both Athara Magarati and Covonantian military forces. I regret to inform you that lives of our allies have been lost savagely and in cold-blood.

As a representative of the Commander in Chief of the Noronnican Armed Forces, I have directed that all measures be taken for the defence of our allies, including the mobilisation of troops in our Athara Magarati base. I have informed his Majesty Overlord Tytus I about the mobilisation of his forces to which he is satisfied.

We shall overcome this brutal attack on our allies, no matter how long it may be. We shall fight them anywhere they may hide or kill. Where there shall be a Montagnian, there shall be a Noronnican. Where there is death, there shall be protection. Such treachery shall never happen again, as we shall ensure the annihilation of the Fascist Regime.

Hostilities exist and we shall ensure the deaths of those who were lost in the attack shall be avenged. With tremendous confidence in our armed forces and with the determination of our people we shall win this war against evil.

I ask that it be declared that due to the surprise and unjust attack by San Montagna, a state of war has existed between the Federal Overlordship of Noronica and the Republic of San Montagna."

The room erupted into cheers.

Ghan Pokhara - Noronnican Recruitment Centre & Military Base

"Sir, we are coordinating with the Athara Magaratis, any word from Nolon?" Lt. Colonel Gerald McGlowan spoke quickly to the General who administered the base.

General Ambar Nayak, a Noronnican-Athara Magarati turned to the Brigadier and nodded solemnly, "The Prime Minister and Chiefs of Staff have begun mobilising. They're sending in the big guns Gerald. Right now, we have 800 Noronnican troops and 400 Ghurkas. the only trouble is that those Ghurkas are freshly trained and have not seen proper fighting yet."

Gerald nodded, "However, if you don't mind my language Sir, they're bloody Ghurkas, they can handle themselves I assure you. Also, we are in a very good vantage point in the mountains. Are we cleared to mobilise the troops?"

The General nodded, swigging back a glass of water before speaking, "The Overlordship of Noronica is in a State of War with the Republic of San Montagna."

by **Albion Invicta** » Mon Oct 23, 2017 3:48 am

Zulu +0 - 45 minutes since the first attacks
AIAF Rotherhum, North-West of Lanercost

Alfred Higgson was bored. Bored of waiting. Bored of sitting in the brightly-lit room with nothing to do. He'd arrived at the airbase in the south of the country just a week ago, on the orders of Command, along with a dozen or so aircraft. Several aircraft from his squadron, along with other aircraft from across the country, had been summoned to this otherwise remote airbase. The rising tensions with the island nation of San Montagna across the Southern Mesder Sea were making the country nervous and their redeployment was seen to be a largely political move by the Prime Minister to pre-empt any rowdiness amongst the opposition parties.

However, everyone on the base had the same, single idea in their minds. War.

For days now; aircraft and their crews, equipment and munitions had been piled into the bases - the infrastructure just about coping with the increase in demand. Whilst some members of the public were adamant that it was a purely political move - the sheer volume of material in such a short space of time spoke volumes to the more military minded. Not just there, but across the nation, the armies of the slumbering Mesder power were awakening. Soldiers' leave was cancelled, reservists given their papers, sailors recalled to port and the media were issued with 'blackout' notices.

Alfred, a five-year veteran of the air force, was a Weapon System Operator assigned to a squadron of tactical bombers. Albion was a nation that boasted a large and well-equipped air force, and it's tactical bombers were the centrepiece of their offensive doctrine. At the heart of this doctrine, were 90 two-seater supersonic aircraft known as the Eagle. The aircraft were the sweet-hearts of the air force, usually the highlight of the annual air shows and their crew were often celebrated as national heroes. Higgson was lucky enough to escape the limelight - which in his squadron was focused on the squadron leaders.

His mind was brought back into focus by the sharp knock as his apartment door. He was one of the luck crew who were assigned to an apartment on base - albeit a noisy one next to the main workshops of the base. Sitting upright, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and slipped his feet into his boots. The knock at the door repeated itself.

"I'm coming, give me a second!" he called. The knock turned into a bang.

"Alright! I heard you the first time!" Whilst somewhat annoyed by the caller's persistence, Alfred was quietly thankful for the relief from the boredom he endured.

Striding through the kitchen, his boots barely laced, he unlatched the wooden door and open to see whom the caller was. He'd barely pulled the door towards him when the door was swung open, nearly clouting him in the face. Through the doorway strode in a tall, blonde-hair man in a dull-blue airman's uniform, identical to the one Alfred was also wearing. The man took no notice of Alfred's protests, despite being called by his name. Alfred knew the man as Harry Sikes, his older - but usually calmer - fellow crewman and pilot. Without saying a word, Sikes picked up the remote for the television in the apartment's lounge and turned on the television.

"Harry, what in the blazes are y-" he stopped short as Sikes turned to him, his hand gesturing to the television screen. It took a moment for what was on screen to sink in - what the words the televised news reporter meant.

"-have confirmed reports of ... my god ... confirmed reports of troops landing in Athara Magarat. So far we have very little confirmation of what is exactly happening, but eyewitnesses reports tell of explosions across the country, and the sinking of ships in the Atish town to the nor-"

Harry spoke directly to Alfred, breaking him from the brief trance created by the news.

"Looks like the old man was right, Alfie," he said quietly, a mixture of eagerness and remorse in his voice, "Those damn Mont's couldn't help themselves."

"I know they've been beating their chest for a while, but how could they even do this? Everyone is against them? They're still in the middle of a civil war for Maker's sake!" explained Alfred.

"You're preaching to the choir, bud. Doesn't matter now, it's happened."

The two men stood quite in contemplation, the silence being an irony for what was to come. A minute passed. Harry turned off the television and placed the remote on the breakfast counter.

"Come on, we need to go. The old man has summoned everyone."

"What do you think he'll want?" asked Alfred, though in his mind he already knew.

"Obvious. We're going to war."

Zulu +0 - 45 minutes since the first attacks
Prime Minister's Residence, Central Lanercost

The Prime Minister was taking a moment to absorb what she'd just been told. She was leaning back against the counter in her kitchen, where she was having an informal and impromptu meeting in her private residence with the few other members of cabinet have arrived only a few minutes before. With the kettle beginning to boil, it broke the awkward silence that had taken hold.

Sir Timothy Walters, the countries Foreign Secretary plucked up the courage to speak first. "Madame Prime Minister, we knew this day was going to happen."

Her eyes fixated at the ceiling, she didn't break her focus, before addressing him in her usually warm tone that was laced his a hint of concern. "I know ... I know ... But weren't we certain they were in the middle of a civil war?"

"Yes they were, and technically still are, but regardless ... they made this attacks all-the-same."

She broke her gaze and looked over to the other female colleague in the room, Katherine Bolton - the nation's Air Chief Marshall and the PM's personal confidant and friend - for reassurance.

"Katie, what do we do now?"

She looked back at the Prime Minister, wanting to reassure her both as a friend and an advisor, to stable her uneasiness in this dark hour.

"Robyn ... Madame Prime Minister ... As Timothy said, we knew this day was coming, hence the preparations." She looked over briefly to the Foreign Secretary briefly, before returning to the Prime Minister. "I'm sure the diplomats will still try to resolve this peacefully, but the fact is that San Montagna wants to ride high, thinking they've caught everyone by surprise - but we've been ready for this for a while now."

Taking the kettle off the boil, she poured some hot water into the waiting mugs and handed one to each of them. "The air force is ready for a counter attack, it'll take a little while, but if we strike now it'll blunt their confidence."

The Prime Minister gazed into her cup of coffee, its rich aromas filling her nostrils. "... so we go ahead with the plan we discussed?"

Katherine's eyes lit up briefly, acknowledging that her friend remembered the plans they'd discussed with the other military chiefs only days ago. She was surprised that her friend was able to remember that, despite all that's happened in the past week.

"Exactly. We strike them know and take advantage of their shifted focus and slow their momentum. The men will already be prepping as we speak. Just give the word and our boys do the rest."

The air thickened with tension. The Prime Minister knew that, potentially, she was about to send men and women to their deaths - but knew it was crucial that their allies were defended. For a few moments, she envisioned the airmen and women climbing into their aircraft - some possibly never to return.

Her head rose, eyes locked with the Foreign Secretary.

"Tell the cabinet to assemble in the office. 20 minutes." She then turned to the Air Marshall. "Do it."

by **Athara Magarat** » Mon Oct 23, 2017 4:27 am

Zulu Day+2 Hours

Residential Zones, Myagdi Island

Inspector Raj Koirala and his team were guiding the civilians on the best route of the hellhole the Residential Zones had become. The civilians, watching the streets full of blood, rubble and corpses of their neighbors, were either full of emotions while others went more silent than a pin. Koirala and his team had somehow managed to hide and use the opportunity they got to escape to the so-called safer zone: the large forest of Dhorpatan National Park in central Myagdi Island. Along the way, they had picked civilians from all walks of life they encountered. Koirala was leading the ragtag group to the direction towards the forests - for he believed that most of the other civilians had also used the forest route to escape out of Myagdi Island. He believed he had to get the group out of the streets as soon as possible.

"Sssh! Be a good girl, now." Koirala heard one of the constables try to sooth a crying girl who was lagging behind the group.

Loud shots rang and the rest of the group looked behind to see both the crying girl and the female constable comforting her drop dead just like that.

"Everyone, take cover!" Koirala shouted as he hid himself behind a large pile of rubble. He looked around to check on the situation. The rest of the group had taken cover as well. Survival was human instinct and those who made the slightest mistake lost - just like the constable and the girl. He controlled his tears but he could hear the rest of the group; children and even some grown-up men and women crying over the sudden deaths of the little girl and the nice lady officer.

He then gazed across at the enemy. It was a squad of San Montagnans. He estimated the numbers to be between 10-20. He clutched his Noronica-made NA15 Semi-Automatic Pistol and decided to take a shot. He remembered the Athara Magarati motto: "Better to die than be a coward" which translated for better to die killing some of these bastards than running away like a dog. If he did so, he might even be able to buy time for the civilians and his subordinates to get away from this tight situation. As Koirala gazed and decided the next actions, he saw something flying in the air.

"Bagale, watch out!" But Koirala was late. Sub-Inspector Amrit Bagale's position was hit by the grenade with an explosion. The next moment, Bagale was in flames and another person dead under Koirala's leadership. "Dammit! Men and women, we gotta do it whatever we got! Return fire!"

The police officers all nodded and immediately fired from NA15 pistols. But the problem was they were against opponents armed with rifles and machine guns. And they were inching even closer. "Let me do it!" shouted Purna Sherchan, the fifteen-years-old boy who had lost his parents to aerial bombings. He had brought his deceased family's old Night-Miyongma Rifle with him and the stoic boy had not allowed anyone else to touch it. Before Inspector Koirala could tell the boy to hand him the bolt-action rifle, the teenage Purna Sherchan was up from his position with his NM95 and then hit by the enemy fire.

Koirala cursed under his breath. Too many people had already died under his watch. Why the fuck was this happening all of a sudden? Everything was normal till yesterday, even with the Ticking Flu and all that but people were leading normal lives. He brushed off the thoughts he had in mind and focused on the situation at hand. He needed to get to that bolt-action rifle and fire at those god-forsaken San Montagnans by himself. "This just isn't my day!" He shouted at the heavens as he tried crawling to the dead boy's family rifle while also shooting at the ever-closing enemy.

But all of a sudden, Koirala heard the San Montagnans shouting something in Italian.

"Ricaderci! Ricaderci! Ricader-"

"What the?" Koirala peeked outside to see five figures standing majestically where the San Montagnans had been. One glance at them and he knew who they were - the Armed Police Force. The five paramilitary personals in blue combat dresses moved over to the positions Koirala's group were taking cover in.

"Get them in the Tigers." The short woman in charge, who name tag read Sergeant S. Buduja, ordered the others. Koirala's men and women and stood up with great relief upon their faces and they worked with the Armed Police Force to escort the civilians to the armored jeeps that were just a few walks away.

"Thanks for the backup, sergeant." Inspector Koirala offered his hand and the Armed Police Force woman shook it.

"Don't mention it. All it took was just a rocket launcher and some machine gun fire to chase the San Montagnans pastas away. I guess they weren't expecting that while attacking unarmed civilians or police officers with only handguns...Let's get going before those bastards return back."

"Right!" Koirala nodded as he followed the others to the NO-TP5 Tiger. He took one last glance at the dead: the lady constable, the little girl, Sub-Inspector Bagale, the teenage boy Purna Sherchan and at the lifeless San Montagnans he saw. He and the others had to escape from this hell Myagdi Island had become.

by **Athara Magarat** » Mon Oct 23, 2017 8:06 am

Zulu + 2 And Half Hours

Residential Zones, Myagdi Island

The ride was long and dangerous. The passengers crammed inside the two NO-TP5 Tiger light armored Jeeps prayed for themselves and each other to whichever god they believed in.

A San Montagnan soldier suddenly jumped out from the rubble and fired his assault rifle at the Tiger. Sergeant Shreya Buduja used the 7.62 mm FN MAG machine gun, mounted on the pintle on the right-side passenger hatch ring, to easily mow down the enemy trooper. This it seemed was an ambush as more and more San Montagnan poured out with their weapons. Buduja roared and sprayed the bullets all across the streets to prevent the San Montagnans from nearing the vehicles or killing them before they could pull the triggers of their rifles.

"Can't this thing go any faster?" Inside the lead Tiger, Inspector Koirala asked the Armed Police Force driver.

"130 km/h is the limit." The driver grunted.

"Watch out!" Koirala shouted all of a sudden. The man had sharp eyes and this time also, he had seen an enemy soldier hurling a grenade before anyone else did. The driver saw it as well and swiftly changed the direction. The grenade unfortunately hit the second Tiger and the resulting explosion had it flames and the occupants inside rushing out only to be gunned down by the San Montagnans. The first Tiger on the other hand went out of control due to the sudden change in direction and rammed into a clueless and terrified San Montagnan who looked like a rookie from an academy; crushing his bones under the heavy tires.

"Die, you Athara Magarati heathen scums!" The San Montagnan soldier, on his first mission away from home and crushed under the vehicle, uttered his last words as he pulled the pin of the grenade in his hand and everything went blank.

by **Covonant** » Mon Oct 23, 2017 10:30 am

Defense Room, Ministry of Defense (Maxmum), Coventry, Covonant

Generals, Commanders, Admirals, and Chief of Staffs of the different branches of the Covonantian Armed Forces converged upon the Defense Ministry to coordinate a response to action. The room was tense with heated discussions and debates as to how a Covonantian base was attack with no retaliation conducted. The Prime Minister was to be among them. The men and women in the room knew they were in for a scolding. Defense Minister Crixus Ignacio was busy listening to the discussion while at the same time thinking up a response to tell the nation. He knew he had no leads as to what happened. Base Septimus was miles away from the Union and the only possible response to give for the reason the attack from the San Montagnan forces were a success was a failure in the defense system.

Crassus's blood was boiling. He really had not anticipated the attacks on a Covonantian base worst yet he had not anticipated for things to reach this point after just a week of pressuring the San Montagnan. His face was very expressive, allowing those looking on to know that something terrible has happened. Already news had broken out of the reports from the Athara Magarati News Broadcasters but the CBC were yet to break the story to the country. Crassus made his way into the room, at which all present stood while acknowledging his presence.

"Prime Minister" Some stated.

"Sir" Others expressed.

Crassus was only intent on one thing...answers. He sat in the middle section of the desk with the Defense Minister on his right and the Chief of Staff of the Armed Forces on his left. When he sat all proceeded to sit as well. Crassus was not a man known for being diplomatic. Instead he was known for his brashness and 'speak what's on his mind' mentality. He wasted no time in showing this.

"Can someone tell me why I woke up to news that Base Septimus, a base under the control and authority of the Covonantian Armed Forces, the Ministry of Defense and the Union of Covonant Government, was attacked with no response or defense made?" Before anyone could answer Crassus went further.

"Crixus, you assured me yesterday that all was in place. So how could this happen" the Prime Minister asked again.

"Well Sir, we believe it had to do with a systems failure. We are not entirely sure, but that seems a palpable reason" Expressed Timoti Graccus, Vice Chief of Staff for the Air Force.

"A systems failure" Crassus said almost sarcastically. "So what have the Armed Forces done with the $35 billion dollar increased that you received at the beginning of the year. Do you think I can go in front of the media and said a systems failure is the reason we have a Covonantian overseas base damaged at the tune of over $600 million dollars and over 115 service men and women dead?" Crassus asked staring Timoti in the eyes. "What will be our response to this attack" Crassus asked, more somber now having expressed his anger to a point of satisfaction.

"We have with immediate effect deployed over 300 troops from Gregoris Naval Base in Ipland to Base Septimus, and will see an addition 800 deployed from Critical Point today. We have a few vessels and crafts at Base Septimus that were not spared from the attack, we are deploying 2 Destroyers and 2 Frigates to Base Septimus with the intent of providing defense as repairs to the defense system are undeway." Expressed General Machelli, Chief of Staff of the Armed Forces.

"What about San Montagna. We have to respond" Crassus advised.

"The Air Force and the Marines will undertake that role Sir. So far we have already as we speak 15 GA2 Tarasque that will be tasked with joining a taskforce from the C6 led by the Albion Invictan Air Force. We are in heavy dialogue with our C6 counterparts and once we have somewhat gained control of the Athara Magarati airspace we can deal with crippling the San Montagnan efforts from the sky. The Covonantian Marines will be leading the C6 in retaining areas that the San Montagnan forces have claimed." General Gristori Callus informed.

"Very well General. I want quick, immediate and decisive action. I must excuse myself as I inform the country and the Consul of what has transpired." Crassus expressed as he got up to leave followed by the Defense Minister and a few Commanders who will be accompanying him as he address the nation.

Base Septimus, Tiwe Sivn, Athara Magarat

The scene at Base Septimus was a bit more calmer than yesterday following the attacks. Sailors worked tirelessly to put out fires on the Vessels, while others worked to clean up debris, while some assessed the damages. The most heart rendering scene however was the removing of dead bodies that laid around the base. Bodies of Covonantian servicemen and women were placed in body bags with tags for identification as some wait to be returned to Covonant for burial while others will be buried on lands outside the base in Athara Magarat. Titus was horrified with the scene and preoccupied his mind by assisting in cleaning up debris.

In the distance ships bearing the Insignia of the Navy could be seen making dock at the Base with Covonantian troops disembarking. Reinforcements Titus thought to himself. He was always amazed at how Covonant always had troops just waiting to be deployed.

The morale among the troops were low but one thing rested on everyone's mind....Revenge. Surprisingly even Titus's. The Commander of the Base Rear Admiral Hardi Wetkis found himself looking at the base in a awestruck manner. How could this happen he thought to himself as he watched the men and women try to clean up the damages. As he was alone with his thoughts, Admiral Commodore came over.

"Any words from Coventry" Asked Commander Wetkis

"Yes Sir, they are sending reinforcements, and more ships. The C6 will be providing defense and with our efforts, retaliation." Commodore informed.

"And what about the Base, what about the bodies, and planes and the damages?"

"The Air Force will be deploying 5 C-17s to transport the bodies back to the Union. I haven't received any reports on damages. Sir, the country is at war. I think damages to a few vessels and planes is the last thing on the Generals mind. When thinks become more calm then I am sure that will be addressed." Commodore expressed almost sympathetically as he knew Wetkis played an integral role in the developing of the base.

"I await a letter from Coventry stating my service will no longer be needed" Wetkis said has he walked off. Commodore looked on as he witnessed the Commander enter a state of depression. 35 years of service to the Union and all that could be gone because of a fascist madman, Commodore thought to himself.

by **Albion Invicta** » Mon Oct 23, 2017 1:19 pm

Zulu +0 - 2 hours and 15 minutes since the first attacks.
AIAF Rotherhum, North-West of Lanercost.

Although XV squadron was already a frontline squadron and as such was always in a high state of operational readiness for war, up until a week ago it was far from ready to fight across the Mesder. For the first few days, the squadron was not even sent an updated map of the area. The Ground Liason Office print-screened a digital map off the internet and enlarged it and used that as the 'intelligence board'. The initial briefs, giving them background information about the country, were mostly d from the various, but few, guidebooks on the country that weren't produced by the San MontagnastateDespite these initial setbacks, everything moved up a couple of gears once they knew that a conflict with San Montagna was likely.

For a start, the squadron was updated with recent information and maps, provided mostly by the Eagle reconnaissance units attached to the XV squadron. As with most of the squadrons, they were unaware of the plans and decisions taken at command level, which Alfred and his fellow aviators found increasingly frustration. So when Harry had pulled him out of his apartment just half an hour ago, he was pleased to know that they'd at least now find out the Grand Plan Command had in store for them.

On the brief drive to the Operations building, Alfred had seen the Rotherhum engineers busy at work - the variety of coloured uniforms he saw made him think that the airbase must have crewman for various military branches working alongside civilian contractors. A variety of aircraft were being worked on, Eagles were being fitted with cruise missiles and fuel tanks, a few Vultures fitted out with electronic warfare pods and he could have sworn he saw a handful of Falcons - the nation's latest stealth air superiority fighter - being kitted out with fuel tanks in addition to their complement of air-to-air missiles.

Both airmen now found themselves along with several dozen other men and women in a large, uninspiring room. Filled with row after row of foldable chairs, each one facing the front of the room where a small wooden podium stood along side a projector screen. Standing by the podium was a familar face, Group Captain Charles Whitworth - the Old Man. Quickly occupying the few vacant seats, the two aircrew sat down just as the lights were dimmed and the projector screen lit up.

Wintworth looked at the screen a few moments, the reflected light slightly illuminating his short grey hairs on his head and face. This sixty-year-old man defied many of his peers, who might have wished him retired long ago - yet Winworth kept his critics at bay year after year with his sharp wit, intellect and somewhat spry physique [at least, spry for a nearly seventy-year-old]. He turned to the men and women under his command and addressed them in his cool, but authoritative tone.

"Good day Gentleman, Ladies - thank you all for making it on such short notice. Now, I know normally I brief your SL's [Squadron Leaders] instead of the lot of you, but today I thought it best you know all the facts. I think it's only fair considering what we're going to ask of you."

Hold a small remote in his hand, it clicked under his thumb and produced the next slide, projecting two words that would send chills down everyone's spine.

Operation Crusader.

He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the room to get a feel for the general mood before clicking the remote again, displaying a map of Athara Magarat and troop movements.

"As of just over an hour ago, San Montagna invaded Athara Magarat. If I may be so frank, the bastards didn't even have the grace to declare war and withdraw their embassy ... Regardless, they launched a full invasion of one of their islands ..."

The next slide appears, showing a somewhere blurred and obviously amateur photo of the fighting in the city, then on to another amateur photo of several ships exploding and engulfed in thick black smoke.

"... as well as several of their naval bases. We also have unconfirmed reports that several C6 bases on the island have also been attacked, but we're waiting for AIMIB [Albion Invicta Military Intelligence Bureau] to confirm. The situation there, as you can imagine, is pretty dire. I know some of you had family on vacation or living there."

Alfred looked around the room, noting the pilots and crew of his squadron that he knew came from Athara Magarat - at least four of them, all wearing a grim look of suppressed dispair on their face. Winworth carried on to the next slide.

"I hope the Maker shows mercy and they're safe - regardless we have duty to carry out. Operation Crusader. This is an Op the highers have been working on, one of many of the JEF's contingency plans that have been drawn up. Our role in this Op is the opening blow - the first organised response to Montagna's aggression. Our role will concentrate on seriously depleting their air defense capabilities over their islands and the Mesder. The overall plan, in time, is to establish a no-fly zone over the Mesder, Athara Magarat and then San Montagna, but we can not do that until their air defence is seriously damaged and put to bed."

The next slide appeared, a map of San Montagna with time, with numerous icons identifying the location of air defenses.

"Intel gather from seventh squadron over the past few days suggest that their network of radar installations is extensive, but limited. From what we can understand, their coverage goes out as far as 400 km into the Mesder. Usually, for this kind of Op, the highers would ask of you to use Orcs-"

A disatisfied murmur grew amongst the aircrew. Black Orchids, or as they were more commonly known - Orcs - were an advanced missile capable of homing and locking onto radar signals; ideal for taking out radar and anti-air facilities. But, as the aircrew knew, they were limited to 120 km, well inside their radar coverage.

"- but, I hasten to add, they're green-lighting the use of AASMs for this opening phase in attacking these installations. For those of you not in the know, they're the regular anti-ship missile we know and love, but now have a range in excess of 1,200 km and can strike ground targets."

A satisfied audience quietened down, feeling much calmer they were well out of harm's way.

"Right, thank you for listening so intensively, you'll be handed over to your SLs now for your mission briefings. Good luck ladies and gentlemen, may the Maker lift your wings and guide your sights."

..Zulu +0 - 2 hours and 40 minutes since the first attacks.
Chamber of Commons, Parliament House, Central Lanercost.

Robyn walked into the chamber halls to echoes of rowdy members of parliament. Many of the nation's MPs were staying in their nearby residences when the first trickles of news filtered through from Athara Magarat, so it was not difficult for them to make it to Parliament. Even though they had been summoned by the Prime Minister's office, many of the honourable members were on the way to house - eager to hear what the Prime Minister had to say on these turn of affairs. For her supports in the Liberal Conservative Party - now was the time for the PM to show her iron stance and commit to defending her allies. Many in the opposition, however, were desperate for her to cave to pressure and not commit to any bloodshed and sabre rattling.

As she was ushered to her place on the front bench, she declined to sit as gestured by Walters, instead, taking the few steps forward to stand in front of the microphone at the centre of the building to immediately address the members of the house.

"The House meets this day to respond to a situation of great gravity. We are here because, for the first time for many years, allied sovereign territory has been invaded by a foreign power. After several days of rising tension in our relations with San Montagna, that country's armed forces attacked the Athara Magarat and establishing military control of the islands."

"The past few days have been days of rumour and counter-rumour. Throughout the day we had no communication from the Government of San Montagna. Indeed, the last message that we received from our embassy in Athara Magarat was less than half an hour ago. Since then am all communications ceased and we are fearing for the safety of our staff there. I shall refer to that again in a moment. As of earlier today, it became clear that a San Montagna-led invasion had taken place and that the lawful Athara Magarat Government of the islands is in jeopardy of falling."

"I am sure that the whole House will join me in condemning totally this unprovoked aggression by the Government of San Montagna against allied territory."

Hundreds of voice murmured "Hear, hear" in solidarity with the Prime Minister's words.

"It has not a shred of justification and not a scrap of legality."

"Before we entered the chambers today, we received information which led us to believe that a large number of San Montagna ships, including destroyers, landing craft, troop carriers and submarines, were heading for Athara Magarat. I and our teams in the Foreign Office have attempted to contact President Benito in order to intervene with the San Montagna regime directly, and they will continue to do."

"However, as the situation continues to deteriorate in Athara Magarat, I have decided to take action against the boisterous and playground-bully behaviour of the San Montagnans."

A voice from the opposition benches broke through the air, demanding to know what action she was referring to.

"Our response will be swift and appropriate. However, in the interests of national security and the lives of our men and women of the armed forces, it is not for me to say precisely where, and the honourable Gentleman would not wish me to do so."

"As I refered to earlier, the situation in the South Mesder appears dire. Local forces in Athara Magarat have engaged their invaders, but the situation looks entirely grim without support from her allies - which is why our friends and colleagues in the Ministry of Defence, led by the energetic efforts of our Defense Secretary, will work and coordinate with the Coalition of Six and our own friends in the Joint Expeditionary Force."

"That is the background against which we have to make decisions and to consider what action we can best take. I cannot tell the House precisely what dispositions have been made...some ships are already at sea, others were put on immediate alert on Sunday evening."

"The Government have now decided that a large task force will sail as soon as all preparations are complete."

There was a stunned silence in the hall - her doubters shocked by her boldness, her supporters in awe for her will.

"AINS ...Hearthwold... will be in the lead and will leave port on tomorrow. I stress that I cannot foretell what orders the task force will receive as it proceeds. That will depend on the situation at the time. Meanwhile, we hope that our continuing diplomatic efforts, helped by our many friends, will meet with success."

by **San Montagna** » Mon Oct 23, 2017 2:06 pm

Redacted

by **San Montagna** » Mon Oct 23, 2017 3:38 pm

Myagdi Island
Zulu+4 hours

"get to cover!!!"

Roberto and his squad ran to cover as Machine gun fire whizzed by, they had been ambushed by a NO-TP5. The squad had been sent to an area in the residential zone presumably free of Athara Magarati presence, little did they know about the Armored car and the paramilitary forces waiting for them. They had found cover in an abandoned house. One of Roberto's Squad mates leaned out the window to return fire, only to be shot dead. Roberto stopped another soldier ready to do the same,

"Its not worth it"

At that precise moment a grenade was tossed into the room, the soldiers took refuge in various rooms of the house, however, some were engulfed by the flames of the explosion, too late too react. Athara Magarti Paramilitaries then entered the room, some gunned down immediately while some were able to return fire. Roberto tossed his own grenade, forcing the retreat of the paramilitaries. He assessed his casualties, 6 dead, 4 wounded, leaving him with only 13 healthy men. He laid down the battle plan, instructing several soldiers to go around the back of the house and use the anti-tank weapon on the armored car. As they went he heard what sounded like more Athara Magarati Soldiers preparing to enter the house. He tossed another grenade out the window, he then heard panicked soldiers fleeing it. Several of Roberto's squad mates then ran out the door to fire upon the soldiers, only to be mowed down by machine gun fire from the Armored car. As more Athara Magarati Troops began moving their way to the doorway, an explosion was heard, followed by machine gun fire. What he heard next was the sound of panic. As he glimpsed out the window he saw the Armored car in flames. He gave the order to leave the house and attack, Firing at the Athara Magarati scum. The results were devastating, nearly the entire Athara magarati squad was decimated, those who weren't surrendered to the San Montagnans. The results weren't good for Roberto's squad either, nearly half the squad was either dead or wounded.

The forces then sent a signal calling for the San Montagnan forces to advance, their scouting mission had in the end been successful. What was on the mind of most of the top military brass however, was if the Diversionary landings near New Libang had been successful in diverting the main Athara Magarati force.

by **Vancouvia** » Mon Oct 23, 2017 7:46 pm

3km East of Nowhere, 5km South of the Sea

"This isn't our war," sighed Corporal Hastings, his finger on the trigger. He breathed uneasily and jumped up. The dusk air was cold, even this far south.

Private Tucker Harvingston coughed. He wasn't well. Hadn't been for a week. He had all the symptoms, but no one in his squad wanted to make the diagnosis. "It is now."

"No, not for you. Go inside, we can cover this position."

"Like hell," coughed Tucker. "I'm still the best shot in the squad." He checked his rifle, then brought up his binoculars. The schoolhouse roof they were on was only two stories high. It didn't provide good vantage but it was the best they had. They were three clicks east of nowhere and five clicks south of the sea. They were cutoff, alone, outnumbered, and ready.

"Sat phone's still dead?" asked Hastings as Private Macintosh climbed up onto the roof.

She nodded. "No battery source that I could find. And if our solar kit is still busted there's not much else we can do."

"It may not matter much longer," said Tucker. He pointed out to the north. "There, three hundred meters, coming up over the hill."

The there squadmates took a look over the side of the roof. Vehicles slowly drove down the road towards them, their flags flapping in the wind.

"My odds are on that those AREN'T Magarati," said Macintosh. She squatted down and moved to the corner of the roof for a better angle.

"Confirmed," said Tucker, his eyes straining after putting down the binoculars.

"Not our damn war," repeated Hastings as he paced back and forth, considering what their options were.

The rest of the squad had joined them on the roof. There were twelve of them, each standing at the ready. They had a look about them. A glaring face of fearlessness. They were ready for the fight. But worst of all they were ready for the loss. They had death on their mind and they knew there was no way around it.

Tucker picked up his sniper rifle and aimed down the scope. "Permission to engage?"

Corporal Hastings glanced at him, his eyes twitching, his palms sweaty. "Send it."

by **Athara Magarat** » Mon Oct 23, 2017 8:52 pm

Zulu + 5 Hours

Thangmi, A Small Town On the Way to New Libang

The invading San Montagnans had bombarded the small ethnic Thami town of Thangmi beyond recognition. Thangmi lay on the path to the capital New Libang and there was heavy fighting on the various towns surrounding the mega city. The Athara Magarat National Army had been mobilized rapidly as soon as the invasion started. They had been successful in driving out the fascist invaders from Thangmi. Now the San Montagnans were pushing the defenders back again.

Enemy Vulture Multi-Role/Strike Fighters flew around the town, bombing whatever the San Montagnan pilots saw. Explosions scarred the buildings and the terrain all over the small town.

In the southern outskirts, two Rottweiler Medium Utility Helicopters were preparing to take off with the civilians [along with several Vulf Armored Vehicles] but were immediately spotted by a San Montagnan Vulture that flew towards them as target. In a desperate and suicidical attempt to prevent the Vulture fighter from attacking the copters, a NO-CO1 Coyote Jeep and a NO-TP5 Tiger Light Armoured Jeep engaged the enemy aircraft from ground.

The Vulture fired an air-to-surface missile at the two ground vehicles. The Tiger was lucky to survive as it ran out of the ensuing explosion while the Coyote and the three Athara Magarati soldiers in it were gone forever. Before the Vulture could engage the surviving ground vehicle, it was suddenly downed by an air-to-air IR missile from a FM5 Seraphim. The arrival of this Seraphim with a small flight of a few H177 Valkyrie Attack Helicopters and EF-58 Killas allowing the two civilian-carrying Rottweilers to fly out of the war zone safely. The several Vulfs across the town were also moving out with civilians and injured soldiers one by one - headed for the capital New Libang.

The driver of the Tiger that had engaged the downed San Montagnan Vulture heaved a sigh of relief. But the commander who had been manning the turret clenched his fists at the loss of more comrades he knew.

"Goddammit!" The commander, whose darker skin denoted Taurot ancestry, cursed himself. He then turned to the civilians who they had picked from various locations across the town. "Sorry about this. We had to divert the attention of the enemy planes." They nodded, understanding that he had no choices. It was lucky for them that the Seraphim and the other Athara Magarati aircraft had arrived just in the nick of time. Had the cavalry been a few seconds late, they too would have been dead.

The commander specifically looked at the Thami elder. "This is why you have to evacuate, old man!"

"But I have never left this ancestral place...We Thamis..."

"We know! We know you Thamis do not leave your ancestral place. We know you have sex only in the Eighth Month of your ethnic calendar. we know you married either your cousin or sister-in-law! But goddamn you, old man! Your ancestor gods aren't gonna throw lightning at you for this. If the others here had been so persistent against evacuation like you, the whole tribe Thangmi would have been history." The commander thundered.

"The sir here is right." One of the younger men spoke, siding with the military. "Elder, we must adapt to the situation. We are at a war! And we are definitely returning to our ancestral place as soon as it's safe."

"Listen to the kid, old man. Now quit your yapping!" The commander spoke. "Until we reach our destination - New Libang."

The old man silently nodded and shed tears as the armored vehicle went farther and farther away from his burning town.

by **Wellsia** » Mon Oct 23, 2017 11:46 pm

Suffet's Palace in Ealdwic, Wellsia Island

The Suffet sat at his desk looking at the two Resolutions that had been presented to him. The first was the Resolution of War voted on by the Council of 104 in response to the attack on Athra Magarati by the military forces of San Montagna. The other was a rarity, a Resolution of Concern issued by the Assembly. The second Resolution wanted the Suffet to ask the Council to consider the withdrawal of the Empire from C6 and the JEF due to Athra Magarati's tendency to promote strive. First there had been Volkgoth, now both Athra Magarati and the EUSR were hostile to the Athra Magarati.
With a chuckle, the Suffet picked up the Resolution and signed it. Wellsia was now at war.

Command Bridge IWS Thunderer
Flagofficer Vincent Halfhyde looked the the communication from the Admiralty back in Ealdwic. So Benito had finally done it, attacked Athra Magarati. He smiled as he read the orders over again. He was to place his force under the tactical and strategic command of Albion Invitica, until
more Imperial ships could arrive. Upon the reinforcement of Force to Fleet status, he would resume his rank of Senior Flagofficer. Until then he was to take his orders from Albion, with the understanding that he had the right to override any order that he felt was detrimental to his command.

by **Bhikkustan** » Tue Oct 24, 2017 12:22 am

Zulu + 5.5 Hours
New Libang

Klaxon sirens blared into the morning at the previously sleepy Khangaraj base, one of the very few places that the flag of the old Khangate still flew proudly in the wind like it had for the last hundreds of years. With all of Athara Magarat's talks of reviving Khas-Kirati glory this was the one place that a Hang, or Khang in this case, with descent from the old empire still held power. Very little power, admittedly in the current situation, but power nonetheless. Just under two thousand soldiers were based here, the last two thousand loyalists to the Azure Throne of the Bhikkustani Khang. Currently, they were soldiers without a home. To them, the defence of their brothers in Athara Magarat was as good as defence of their native land that had cast them out in successive coups. Here they were cherished as brothers and applauded, while at home their names were cursed as reactionary traitors.

Admiral Fulong, once a respected military leader before a mental breakdown on the Yamantaka had cost him his career, leapt to his feet instinctively before his sixty-year-old body made him regret it. The mental episode had taken a brutal toll on his body. Like a tree he was gnarled by age, yet his mind had retained much of its acute tactical intelligence that had helped him climb through the ranks of the Navy until he was a member of the highest command. He began to issue orders immediately, getting a quick summary of what had transpired before dispatching officers to get his men ready. Anti-Aircraft establishments at the base raised their eyes to the sky, while officers dashed about marshalling their soldiers around the perimeter of the base to repulse a possible advance by the San Montagnans. Within ten minutes the company leaders were assembled in the headquarters in their uniforms, ready to be addressed by the aged admiral who stood beneath a national flag flanked by two large buddhas. Across the room was a portrait of Surevi Khang. Fulong looked into his leader's eyes as he made his address, inspired to do his duty.

"Men," he said in a voice tough like the bark of a hardened old Salla tree, "We shall soon quite likely be in action to defend our Khas-Kirati brothers. The forces of Mara have manifested again, this time in the form of San Montagna, and we shall again drive them from this earth. I have received word from our great Khang that as of 6 AM the Khangate of Bhikkustan is at war with San Montagna. I want you to prepare your troops for battle, we will establish contact with the local forces and determine the best course of action from then. I want all soldiers ready for combat and ready to move at a moment's notice. We shall spring like tigers from a tall bough onto these invaders and show them that, despite the regime of the EUSR, the Bhikkustani nation is a proud one and that we stand with our Khas-Kirati family."

He dismissed the officers and send them back to their men, before turning to an aide who was holding a phone for him. "It is Khang Surevi," he mouthed reverently. Fulong took the phone graciously and walked away.

"Hello, revered Khang," Fulong spoke graciously, without a hint of sarcasm. The Khang commanded complete respect in his mind. He was the rebirth of Oude Khang, from a line of reincarnation that stretched back to the great heroes of the yellow dragon, when Khas-Kirati was a feared name and not a slur with connotations of poverty and terrorism.

"Hello, victorious general." The formality of their conversation hid the fact that these two were as close as brothers. They had bonded in the fires of war and were beyond simple comrades. Both held an immense level of physical respect for each other, and while Bhikkustani culture demanded formality they soon lapsed back into conversation. Surevi continued after a pause, "What is the current situation. My guards have moved me below ground, claiming that Setovisala palace is a possible target. How has your base done?"

"We have remained yet untouched, your reverence, yet as the San Montagnans advance we will surely be struck against."

"Then be the anvil upon which they are broken."

Surevi hung up the phone and Fulong began to contact the local military command. He knew that Surevi would already be contacting the C6 and JEF forces, working out a global plan of action. Mantras flooded the base, their calming hymns reaching the ears of all the soldiers present. Traditional Bhikkustani drums sounded a war beat. In the eyes of most the warlike bangs and soft buddhist hymns would be juxtaposed, but the Bhikkustanis prepared themselves for a conflict. They waited on orders, ready to move when their Athara Magarati comrades requested.

by **Athara Magarat** » Tue Oct 24, 2017 1:55 am

Zulu + 5 And Half Hours

Jiri, A Small Town North-East of New Libang

The seven Athara Magarati soldiers ran through the rubble, the smoke and the dirt as they occasionally fired their CR-15 assault rifles at the enemy they sighted. They had to be better than this. After all, only the best of the best Athara Magarati personals were selected to be enlisted into the National Army - other than the acclaimed Brigade of Gurkhas in the Noronican Army or the Owinn Gurkha Rifles of course.

"Twenty meters ahead, turn left!" Corporal Su Gnoyongma shouted and moved out of the way for Private Numa Lewahang to fire the M-V31 Rattlesnake anti-personnel guided missile at the squad of San Montagnan soldiers around twenty meters ahead. A usual San Montagnan squad consisted of twenty-five heads from what they had been told by the superiors. And the Rattlesnake had taken out half of them by the looks of it. The rest were disorganized and the seven Athara Magarati soldiers finished them quickly with short rounds from their assault rifles.

The Athara Magarati squad moved forward, taking cover in the rubble as they progressed. There was rubble were everywhere, thanks to the aerial bombardment the San Montagnan planes had carried out. Gnoyongma peered out and watched the enemy positions. There were around ten San Montagnans, leisurely spending their time, unaware that the Athara Magarati National Army was trying to retake all of the San Montagnan-occupied towns on the way to New Libang. She then sounded the orders. "West, ten meters. Go! Go! Go!"

The others moved to the direction she pointed, rifles blazing, and she followed them. The San Montagnans started dropping dead due to the sudden assault but one of them was quick to fire a shot that fatally pierced into Private Kavi Kafle. "Die!!!" Private Daya Bir Tamang roared as he sprayed bullets indiscriminately at the couple of remaining San Montagnans.

"Tara-Six, need immediate med-evac, over. Hostiles eliminated from Point I to O." Corporal Gnoyongma shouted at the radio.

"Roger that. Prepare for extraction." The Rottweiler pilot's clam voice buzzed as the seven heard the sound of a chopper closing in.

"Come on, don't die!" Tamang roared as he held the hand of Kafle, who was coughing blood. The rest of squad watched with mixed emotions, some with tears and others stoic. "You are gonna make it. We can't lose you, bro. We lost Sunita Upreti. We lost Tsan Purja. We lost Sara Jirel. We...we can't lose you. Don't you dare..."

"Just shut yer mouth and get me to the copter." Kafle pulled Tamang closer and shouted in his face all the while coughing more blood. "I am still alive...you idiot. You think I want to die?"

"Our mission objective is completed. Other squads and platoons will take it from here. Let's move, ladies and gentlemen." Corporal Gnoyongma spoke in a somber voice as soldiers from two other squads dropped into the scarred battlefield from the chopper. Some of them even nodded at Gnoyongma's group and looked the bleeding Kafle before rushing to their objectives. Tamang and Private Badri Nembang hurried the fatally injured to the Rottweiler and the rest of the surviving members of the squad hopped in as well. Gnoyongma counted her numbers. Three dead and one fatally injured [with uncertainty whether Kafle would live for long] in one single mission. The National Army had to do better than this. Her squad had to fight better and she had to lead them much better in the next one.

by **Athara Magarat** » Tue Oct 24, 2017 8:07 am

Zulu + 6 Hours

Airspace above Myagdi Island

The two C137 Dakota II medium transports flew at an altitude of 5000 meters. They were being guarded by three EF-58 Killas in a close formation. Each Dakota II had 46 paratroopers from Magpies Battalion's Gray Company as passengers inside and there was a lot of chatter and commotion.

"The Armed Police Force really put a good fight down in the ground." Ironwall said somberly.

"So did the city police and the civilians. It takes a lot to stand against an army large than 30,000." Rantija agreed.

"And now, we will doing what they did." Sherchan spoke ever grimly as ever.

"Shut up for a while will you?" squad leader Ghising ordered. "The major's here with us. Major Phedap Moringlahang in the same transport as us."

"Fanboy..." Rantija murmured softly that nobody heard her.

The young man leading Gray Company, Major Moringlahang, had been standing for a while. He finally shouted. "We are droppin' into hell, troopers! Get - "

Before anyone had any idea of what was happening, an explosion was heard and the Dakota II was losing altitude rapidly. The major cursed his luck as he watched the fear and uncertainty in the eyes of the 45 others with him. It was evident that the San Montagnan planes had attacked them. If they had managed to hit the Dakota II, the EF-58 Killas must have been downed already. About the other Dakota II, the major was not sure. All contact was lost and the woman piloting the transport asked everyone to brace for impact. The major had considered opening the hatch and getting the troopers to jump down one by one as originally devised but that did be suicide now as San Montagnan planes were probably roaming the air in large numbers. If the plane went down, the enemy might forget they were even there.

"You heard the lady, brace for impact!"

Major Moringlahang hated his luck. Though he had been able to achieve the rank at an incredibly young age, it had been because he always seemed to be thrust into deadlier situations than anticipated, make it back alive and get promoted. Do every plane I ride have to be shot down upon being sighted by the enemy? He remembered his previous campaigns in Akar and in Arvan where the same thing had happened.

And thus started yet another chapter in the unusual story of Major Moringlahang and his 45 paratroopers behind the enemy lines in Myagdi Island as the transport started falling into the middle of who knows where.

by **Albion Invicta** » Tue Oct 24, 2017 1:50 pm

Zulu +5 hours and 45 minutes
~5,000ft, North-East of San Montagna.

Following the briefing from Group Captain Wintworth, the huge scale of the attack the young pilots of Albion were involved in started to become much clearer following the briefing. The Old Man wasn't lying when he said that the pilots were going to be flying with the long range missiles - he just failed to mention that not all of XVth Squadron were flying with them. In fact, much of that honour was given to the other rag-tag units that have been attached to the XVth. They were to fly into San Montagna territory, whether the radars were down or not.

They came out of that briefing silent, slightly stunned, their heads buzzing. There was a lot to the think about. If one had to go to war, then this was probably the way to do it. The attack certainly had a monolithic style to it. In the words of General Goldstein, Supreme J.E.F. Commander in the Mesder, they were 'the thunder and lightning of Operation Crusader'.

They went back to their rooms later to put their affairs in order, which was to say, they prepared for the fact that they might die very soon. It sounds melodramatic, but one had to think that way, it would be wrong to leave it to someone else. A lot of people back in Albion and across the C6 nations were very gung-ho about 'teaching Franco Benito a lesson', but it was not their bodies stuffed into their little grey jets.

After reading their individual intelligence packets, they went with the ground crew to check over their P.82 Eagle. Alfred couldn't speak for the other pilots, but as he checked over the airframe, he was nervous. A majority of the other Eagles stationed there were to fire their missiles from range and retreat in friendly skies. They, along with 7 other aircraft, had the joyous task of flying into San Montagna airspace right after the first wave of missiles and destroy as much armour and weaponry as possible.

The weapon of choice was to be the tried and tested Asceotan air-to-surface missile. These small missiles excelled at destroying a range of targets, thanks to its multiple-use warhead, enabling it to destroy a variety of hostiles; from temporary buildings, to hardened structures and armoured vehicles. Most dangerous of all, for the enemy at least, was that the pilot could fire salvos of missiles at multiple targets and then fly away out of harms way whilst the missiles do the rest of the work.

Alfred had examined the loaded aircraft closely. Eighteen missiles on total. They could have carried more, but thanks to the huge fuel tanks that had to be carried in order to make the crossing over the sea, it limited their options. They were satisfied and promptly left their base - and were now flying over the Mesder, currently in a holding pattern with the rest of the squadron, awaiting confirmation of the missile strikes.

Examing the controls, Alfred had a lot of time to contemplate things. He was feeling better, not least that he and his pilot were carrying hundreds of kilograms worth of explosive. The journey over the Mesder was thankfully pleasant, with only a little cloud cover to concern themselves over, making the view of fellow Eagles nipping in and out of the cotton-wool clouds serene.

A light flickered on the screen in front of him. Turning on his mic, he relayed the message on screen to Harry.

"Missile strike a success. Radar gone. Good hunting."

"Oh yeah, they WOULD say that, wouldn't they..." Harry retorted sarcastically. "Okay then, let's get this over and done with."

The aircraft banked gently South-West - towards San Montagna. Though they were still out of their radar range, Alfred couldn't help but feel the familiar sensation of nerves bubble through. It wouldn't be long until they were within the feasible range of the enemy radar - assuming some were still active.

At just shy of 300km from the coast, the other seven aircraft - who were but specs in the distance to each other - descended down from their high altitude. The aircraft were forming a classic Hi-Lo-Hi mission. Running up to an attack, they would keep at 100 ft above sea level in order to evade most, if not all, of the enemy radar. The other aircraft looked extremely vulnerable in the bright sunshine, their canopies wiking, an occasional wing flash as one of them manoeuvred. Alfred felt that every San Montagnan must have been able to see them.

150km. Alfred began to go through his checklist. IFF, Laser Guidance, Missiles, Decoys, Height Sensor, Radar Homing Warning Receiver - all looked good.

100km. The Radar Homing Warning flashed an alert.

"Please tell me that's not the Raw-War [RHWR] going off ..." chuckled Harry, barely masking the nerves in his voice.

"I ... I'm afraid so."

"So much for ALL the radars being gone ..."

A message babbled through over the radio, the Flight Leader also got pinged by enemy radar and ordered the flight to go in lower and faster. There was no turning back now.

50 km. Alfred was punching in commands into his console in front of him. His aircraft's first target, a column of anti-air vehicles was sitting idling on a roadside, its crew blissfully unaware of what was about to happen. Three AA vehicles, the rest were jeeps.

Their aircraft started pumping out chaff to confuse their radar, when Alfred relayed the targets to Harry.

"That them?"" queried the pilot.

"Certain."

Harry gave the thumbs up and spoke in a mockingly dramatic voice. "Then let fly the hounds of war!"

Alfred sighed as he pressed the Commit button. Harry could never quote something properly.

There was a slight wobble in the aircraft as the first of the Asceotans let fly. The three of them soared onwards, gaining altitude briefly before slamming down onto their targets.

One of the fellow Albionite aircraft must had also seen the fireworks and checked in.

"Caaww, that was a beauty! Nice drop!"

It wasn't over yet though, their next target was another column, further to the south. This time, a mixture of tanks and armoured vehicles. They tore straight for them, barely having the time to acquire the targets before they were nearly above them.

The airframe juddered again as the remainder of the missiles began to fly off. Just as the last of the missiles flew off, the RHWR buzzed dramatically again.

Alfred was stunned for a second, before the dread of realisation kicked in. They had been locked onto - worst still, this time it was a missile.

"Alfie? Alfie! Talk to me!"

"I - erm ... crap, we got incoming. Six o'clock!"

by **San Montagna** » Tue Oct 24, 2017 6:57 pm

Zulu+ 6 hours
Myagdi Island

From the window of an SM-arieta, Roberto looked at the sky, an enemy transport plane was falling from the sky, Good Riddance, he thought, he didn't have time for more Athara Magaratis, he was already focused on pushing out what remained of the defending force. By this point the San Montagnans had finally taken half the Industrial District and nearly the entire Residential area, and were makng strides in the Shopping District, leaving the heritage sites alone, for now.

The column of Armored cars advanced up into the shopping District, it seemed to calm, it seemed as though the Athara Magaratis had fled. Roberto spoke to the gunner,

-"do you see anything?"

-There doesn't seem to be any-"

Suddenly a gunshot pierced the chest of the exposed gunner, forcing his lifeless body to tumble from the vehicle. The columns stopped, while the gunners of the other vehicles took cover inside the vehicle.

-"Where did that come from?"

-"Don't know sir"

At that moment another bullet hit the side of the vehicle, Giving a clear indication of from what general direction the bullet was coming from.

"It came from the right, search those shops"

Several soldiers then dashed out the back of the vehicle, split into groups and ran into several shops. As Roberto waited for the results inside the vehicle, he began to hear gun shots and screams, after several minutes the soldiers came out holding a teenage Athara Magarati, who seemed to only be about sixteen. The soldiers reported the operation to Roberto,

-"Him and four others were in a sniping positions on the second floor with a few bolt-action rifles, we shot the others, but this one surrendered, what do we do with him?"

-"I got it"

He pulled out his HISM handgun, and aimed it at the forehead of the boy. The boy clutched a necklace with the portrait of his parents, recently killed in an air raid. Roberto pulled the trigger and everything went blank for the boy.

by **Verona Beach** » Tue Oct 24, 2017 7:18 pm

Zulu +9h
The Skies
Near San Montagna

The new bombers screamed through the sky. Their new compound skin, instead of shining with old metal as they did in the 1960s, instead absorbed the sunlight with the dull hues of air camo. The distinctive roundel of Verona Beach clashed against the easily confused bullseye style roundel of the Albionite Eagles.

This was a real test for the SkyKnights. While some were running up and down the coasts of Athara Magarat and leveling anything vaguely vintage in sight, this was the first time these old dogs with new armor would run through something they hadn't had the time to practice doing. Their completion was rushed to have them ready in case of war, and it showed. The pilots' spirits weren't dampened- their jets roared like unholy thunder across the open sky towards an enemy that hadn't even thought to stop using Savoia-Marchetti aircraft with piston engines. The Albionites and Veronites were joking with each other, chatting and laughing. Even if the radar installations saw them, there was no way the AA could catch them. Operation Morpheus, the codename for the aerial portion of the mission, was underway without a hitch.

After a few minutes, the gleaming green isles of San Montagna came into sight. The joking and jovial crew switched over to trained, cold pilots of airborne death as they skirted the coast. Eventually, a series of lights on the horizon appeared. A towering shipyard protruded along the coast, lights glistening. They hoped the lights would go out as the bombardiers squeezed their triggers in position, briefly pressing a button that released guided death to the military shipyards. Soon after they were dropped, the engines revved with afterburner fire and they took off, speeding out before the crew could scramble for their AA guns. They studied reconnaissance maps of the region and paired it with their radar scans, checking where the enemy's early warning was.

They got briefly lost, passing Villa in Montagna twice. As a side result, some crewmembers got a faint glimpse of the palace in which the prime minister resided in times of peace- a detail that would become key later. Eventually, the spinning metal nets of the radar stations became visible as dots on the terrain, causing the bombardiers to coldly and emotionlessly squeeze away.

A few airfields, military bases, and even a convoy fell prey to the discriminate (at least for now) bombs as they were guided down to the ground. After this, the once-again cheery crew sped away back to Albion, as they hoped that they had left the northeast coast in ruins. They swore about the "sandpissing fascists" they had blown up, grinning wide. The first phase of Morpheus had succeeded. Now, the rest had to be completed.

As the navy steamed towards the nation, communications had opened with the pilots of the recent raid. Any and all information, especially about the capital's palace, was collected for use. Some men in beige berets, unusual for most of the crew, milled about on the VMS King James IV, mixing with their Albionite counterparts and cleaning weapons. Their mission hadn't even been fully finalized yet and they were steaming straight to the mission destination. Unusual indeed.

by **Covonant** » Tue Oct 24, 2017 10:53 pm

South Mesder Sea (Few miles from the eastern coast of Myagdi Island, Athara Magarat]

2 Missile Cruisers and 3 Destroyers each bearing the banner of the C6 below the banner of the Union Navy which were all below the Flag of the Union sailed the open seas to their final destination. The journey on the rough seas summed up perfectly the task that Covonant and her allies had committed themselves to accomplishing. The vessels gliding through the waters in perfect formation displaying a great show of Covonantian militarism. The speed was reduced in somewhat perfect unison as the Noronnican task force could be seen on radar. This came as no surprise as the vessels under the Union of Covonant South Mesder Command were tasked with providing reinforcements and firepower to her C6 ally. The vessels rested a few feet behind the Noronnican strike force.

"Acting under protocol, inform the Noronnicans that the Union Navy is standing ready to provide assistance" Expressed Lieutenant Tiberis who was to head the operations, which surprisingly the Covonantians termed Operation White Tigress.

As the fleet secured their position to the south of Athara Magarat another fleet of the Union Navy consisting of 3 Dock landing ships made their way to north eastern end of the Island. There mission was to engage San Montagnan forces pushing their way through mainland Athara Magarat. The Marines were tasked with providing great defense and offense as they work with local Athara Magarati military forces already taking a beating from the large San Montagnan military force.

Karlile Stevens was a Union Marine expected to lead his division take out San Montagnan forces. The orders was concise "All enemy forces must be eliminated" this played in his head as he looked out to the open seas waiting to see vegetation of Athara Magarati land. He thought of simpler times when he could serve in the Marines and not think much of conflict more provide humanitarian aid or joint training. This is what those years of training were for he thought to himself as he tried to keep his mind at ease. He knew of the horrors of war from stories told by his brother who lost a leg from the Western War two years ago. Why he joined the same force that nearly killed his brother, honour he thought, or just to feel needed. He grew up in a very uncaring environment and that yearn for being needed prompt him to fight for his country. He cleared his mind from such thoughts when land was spotted. The alarm on the bridge went off signalling the Marines to formation as they prepare for disembarking. Operation Saving Grace was nearing its inception.

Somewhere half-way between Covonant and San Montagna

The Union of Covonant Armed Forces were all deployed in what was the first major war for the country in over 2 years. For a nation in the Western Isles 2 years is long to see combat, thought Risden James as he listened to his captain explain the operation to commence immediately after the briefing. James was a pilot of the Union of Covonant Air Force based at Sentis Airbase in Devios, Covonant. Having served in the Air Force for over four years the closest he came to some action was over a year ago when pirates thought they could stand up to the Covonantian military. They learned the hard way, he smirked as the event played in his mind. He knew however that now wasn't the time for retrospection. Gotta live in the now he would remind himself.

"You are tasked with inflicting the greatest amount of pain on the San Montagnan dogs that killed our own people in Athara Magarat. We have to let them know never to even think of attacking us again. You are the bravest and finest the Union has to offer, and you should feel proud and honoured that your nation has called on you to defend her name" Captain Oenamaus shouted

Yea, yea, yea...enough talking capo, let's just get this over with James thought to himself. He was a very quiet individual but his mind was always at work. You know as the saying goes "silent river, runs deep". Well for the case of James one could say its true. Under his cool reserve mannerism was a harden pilot who many believed death feared. He has the attitude of a fighter and it was no coincidence why he would be among the lucky 6 tasked with the attack on Mario Island.

"You leave in 5, gather your gears and attend to your craft." Captain Oenamaus ordered.

"Hey good luck out there. Try not to show off will you" said fellow Pilot Marcus

"Just watch my tail, don't get scared now" James replied with a smirk. He was somewhat antisocial with the others but he and Marcus over the months had created a really close bond.

Six JAC P.123 were selected for the mission which was called Operation MesderNights. As the name suggest a night raid. The goal destroy the air defense systems that were located on Mario Island, limit civilian casualties at all cost.

"All systems on" The pilots said one after the other as the engine fueled up ready for take off.

Swoosh, Swoosh, Swoosh they flew off the UNS aicraft carrier Dominion and into the night sky that rest above the south Mesder Sea. The lights of the craft and the receivers were the only things that the pilots had to identify and communicate with one another. In a matter of 7-10 minutes the fighters had entered San Montagnan airspace. They already knew C6/JEF operatives were conducting raids on mainland San Montagna, their goal however was capture Mario Island the other smaller islands. The crafts remained at low altitude in attempts to miss being picked up by radar. A reconstructed map from the Intelligence Data Centre (IDC) that displayed the exact coordinates of radars was shown.

"1 minute before target is in sight" Marcus noted.

The first planned strike was the radar that laid at the southern most end of the Island.

The fighters spread out as Marcus zoomed in on the target. With the press of a button the bombs dropped on the selected target.

"The Covonantian Air Force 1-San Montagnan dogs zero" Marcus expressed to which the others laughed as they continued around Mario Island. As they flew to the next target, the pilots tried to secure any intel from the air they could manage. Though difficult especially at night they gathered a good detail of the terrain and coastline of Mario Island, better than any image could produce.

Mario Island was to be a breeze, James thought as he looked at the coordinates of the radar. Scattered perfectly. He also knew it had been only two weeks since the fascist soldiers occupied the island so the idea was their resources would be limited. As the task force approach the coordinates for the second of many radars scattered on the island shots from below began piercing in their directions.

"They know we're here" Marcus said in a child like manner

"Fuck. Disperse" James commanded seemingly forgetting his role in the mission. As the other fighters dispersed to provide coverage for the craft Marcus flew as he locked in on the target, the location of the San Montagnan forces could be seen.

"Got the fucker" Marcus joyfully exclaimed.

"Now let's get the fuck out of here, we can come back" Marcus who led the group ordered.

The fighters regrouped flying in unison over the South Mesder Sea feeling somewhat disappointed that the mission was foiled. Arriving back to UNS Dominion, the disappointment was evident on the faces of the crew, James was however counting his luck.

"It's alright. The dogs know we are here, just have to go harder at them next time" Marcus tried to reassure the group as they rest for another planned strike.

The Fascist Dilemma IC(CLOSED, TWI ONLY)

The Fascist Dilemma IC(CLOSED, TWI ONLY)

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