Little Red Men [Kayfabeland, ATTN Bruzenland]

[Rusanyia]

If you want to join and you're not a member of Kayfabeland, send a telegram explaining how you want to join to me and Bruzenland. Also, considering joining the region!

Years ago…

Pavel Antonovich was a simple private in the Red Army. Like all men in the Socialist Federation, he was required to do two years of government service, and like most men his service was in the military. He was stationed along the border between the Socialist Federation of Rusanyia and the nation of Latveria. Pavel Antonovich did not know much about Latveria: the commissars had mentioned that it was a monarchy, like Rusanyia before the Revolution. The peasants there still toiled like serfs for their feudal masters. The commissars told Pavel Antonovich that in Latveria the nobles could demand the right to take any peasant’s wife into their castle and have their way with them, and the peasants could do nothing to stop them. They also said that someday the Socialist Federation would free those peasants and bring them the wonders of socialism.

Today was apparently that day. Another soldier in his company rushed into the barracks where Pavel Antonovich was hard at work polishing his boots for the inspection tomorrow. The commissars had told all the men to be ready because the Deputy General Secretary would be coming to review them, and that was why the whole regiment had been brought together at the base. Kusma Mikhailovich raced into the barracks and told Pavel Antonovich and the rest of the men that he had just heard on the radio that the Socialist Federation was at war with Latveria. The Latverians had tried to attack Rusanyia! Luckily a border guard unit had intercepted the Latverian invasion force and turned them back. The polishing of boots was forgotten as the men clustered around the radio to listen to General Secretary Alexei Rykov speak…

Now

There had been Rusanyians living in Latveria for centuries. Back when the borders were less well-defined there had been plenty of movement. Various feudal lords had set up estates that eventually straddled the official line that divided Latveria from Rusanyia. When those lines become firm, some Rusanyians were left on the “wrong” side and became Latverians. But they were Latverians in name only, and they proudly held on to their Rusanyian heritage. During the war they collaborated with the communist invasion, and many of these Rusanyian Latverians served in the government of the People’s Republic of Latveria that was set up in Rusanyian-occupied Latveria when the war ended. When the People’s Republic of Latveria was reunited with the Bruzen-occupied western half, these Rusanyians remained nostalgic for the days of communism, when they were on top.

These Rusanyian Latverians gathered under the banner of the Novorusaniya (New Rusanyia) Party, which was led by Oleg Zarvoy. They advocated for traditional, conservative values, such as opposition to rights for LGBT people and a strong role for the Orthodox Church in society. They also proposed that the majority-Rusanyian portion of Latveria, the region of Donhansk, secede and join the Union State of Rusanyia. Novorusaniya was mostly peaceful except for bar fights and street brawls started by their more violent members until the election of President Alexi Kysev in Rusanyia. Kysev dreamed of restoring the glory that Rusanyia had during the days of the Socialist Federation, when it was one of the two most powerful nations in Kayfabeland. Kysev began to encourage Novorusaniya to think bigger than winning elections for the Latverian parliament. In 2016 Novorusaniya began to stage large protests in Donhansk, calling for a new referendum that would give the people who lived in eastern Latveria the option to create their own nation or join Rusanyia. These protests often ended in violence between Novorusaniya and police. Soon Novorusaniya had its own militia, the Donhansk People’s Brigade, which it used to intimidate non-Rusanyian Latverians living in Donhansk.

Latveria, Near the Border with Rusanyia

Dozens of towns near the border awoke one morning to find that they had been overrun by armed men. Many of them wore facemasks and other things that concealed their identity. They all wore military-style clothing with a simple red armband tied around their left arms above the elbow. The mysterious soldiers had heavy weapons, including artillery and anti-aircraft missile launchers, and they called themselves the Donhansk People’s Brigade. They informed the people living in these towns that they were now living in the Donhansk People’s Republic, not Latveria. Police and other officials of the Latverian government were arrested or killed.

Oleg Zarvoy walked into a radio station in a major city near the Rusanyian border. Novorusaniya had made its bid for independence from Latveria. His militia was bolstered by not only thousands of Rusanyian Latverians who wanted a return to the glory days of the People’s Republic of Latveria, but also by hundreds of Rusanyians who had crossed the border to fight with them. Soldiers from the Rusanyian Army were also present, helping to lead the People’s Brigade and operating some of the more complicated weapons like the SAM launchers that kept the Latverians from using helicopters or aircraft to attack the militia.

Oleg Zarvoy sat down at the microphone and began to speak.

“People of Donhansk, your day of liberation has arrived! As I speak, the brave fighters of the Donhansk People’s Brigade are taking back our country from the corrupt government of Latveria! The so-called Republic of Latveria is nothing but a sham puppet government controlled by the Bruzenlanders and the Astorians. They sell away the future of your children for the greed of foreign corporations! Prime Minister Lucia Bardas sits in her ivory tower in the capital of Borvagrad and counts the money she makes from bribes and kickbacks. She does not care about you in Donhansk. Today I declare the independence of the People’s Republic of Donhansk! Once Latveria has recognized our independence and withdrawan all of its government agents and soldiers from our lands, we will have elections to form a government. Until then, I will lead as Provisional President. I ask all Latverians who are sick and tired of the failed government in Borvagrad to join me, and join the People’s Brigade. I say to the soldiers of Latveria’s armed forces: do not obey orders to come to Donhansk and fight us! Your commanders will waste your lives trying to stop us from living peacefully in our own nation. Let us have our country!”

[Bruzenland]

In the days back when...

There was never true friendship between Bruzenland and Rusanyia, only amicable relations encouraged by the mutual understanding of collateral damage, and the damage it would cause to both the economy and regional stability. At least it was like that until the election of President Kysev. Latveria had been a profitable partner for Bruzenland, who after 80 years since the Civil War and the Re-annexation of Langstaadt into the Federation was still working hard to achieve the status of superpower; as close as they may be, their goal was not yet complete, it is a job never ending in fact, for politics is a game without end, and to mantain their position as the biggest and most influential power in Andalasia they had to stomp their foot whenever it was necessary.

Bruzenland is a sneaky opponent. They may have a modernized military, a competent force not to be trifled with carelessly. But they're not a titan like the Astorians who are the rulers of the world in the international community, they do not have an almost infinite supply of manpower like Rusanyia. But they have money, they have technology; military technology that has served in almost every army and mercenary company around the world. Despite the famous Rusanyian AK that has been bought possibly by the trillions by now either legally or not the Bruzens had information technology, their forte was electronic war; espionage.

Western Latverians were strong supporters of Bruzenland and it's values, for in the past the Bruzens did their part in the early years of the cold war between Communism and Capitalism, Tyranny versus Freedom of thought and tongue. However, the Burzen goal of liberating Latveria from communist rule was half-celebrated, for a stalemate had been reached and now the country was split in two, on the east the barbaric hordes of the red army and their thralls and on the west, the last beacon of liberty and prosperity.

During the last years of the cold war, the Socialist Federation of Rusanyia was on it's last legs as a dying carcass of a failed system of governance; the Bruzen leadership was expectant to see the regime fall and in turn, see another obstacle for their progress being destroyed and finally when the 90's arrived, Latverians from both sides of the once divided country found unification as the Socialist Federation vanished.

Life was good now that families could hug eachother and spend the rest of their days together as it was meant to be. It appeared that the Bruzens accomplished their goal, fighting an economic war with Astoria and the Western Alliance defending the free peoples of the west against the rot of communism. For many western Latverians, Bruzenland is an example to be followed, an example on how to thrive when the world is about to be set ablaze.


Present day...

The Federal Intelligence Service had agents all over the world, from Comoristan to the Atlantian Dominions, from Astoria to United Avon and Le Savoie, Bruzenland had eyes and ears everywhere it was paramount for their survival and Latveria was no exception. Peter Künst was standing with a bag of groceries as he watched Latverians soldiers put on their armbands and join their comrades in arms as they declared officially to be deserting from the Latverian Army.

To every other Latverian, Peter was just a friendly neighbor of the small community of Spratanovka in Eastern Latveria a border town lying 10 kilometers from the Rusanyian border. He wasn't involved in politics, he was a honest shoe seller and community president even, a charismatic individual who worried about his community and neighbors.

And it was all a perfectly crafted ruse, Peter knew he was never to see Bruzenland again, but as a loyal agent of the FSI his duty was to become a Latverian in order to inform anything back to his country, from the rise of the prices in Bread to the political atmosphere of the country, for some countries it would be a ridiculous action but it was vital for Bruzenland, a country that has perfected the art of spying.

"Fucking finally" said a man standing next to Peter, who looked at him "vhy?" he simply asked looking as if he didn't understand what was going on. "Well, for starters we're gonna get rid of that bitch of Bardas, look at how Latveria is Mr. Künst, it's in the fucking mud, national debt, the prices always rising and what does Bardas do? nothing! about damn time we get rid of her and her dogs".

Künst chuckled and shrugged "Vell, as long as I continue to have a job and eat, I don't really care. If they decide to start a damn war, they better steer clear of Spratanovka, ve're a small town and ve don't need a var to bath the streets vith blood" the man huffed and sighed "Yeah, that's true enough, but still. The sooner we declare independence, the better" Peter nodded in agreement and said "Vell, let's hope it doesn't come to var" with that he left the group and returned home, once there he set the bag of groceries and got on his computer. As a member of the FSI, Künst had several resources at his disposition and once he got on his computer and secured a channel of communication; he sent a quick message to Headquarters.

Code: Select all

Latverian army has seditionary units. Town of Spratanovka compromised. Declaration of Independence imminent. Situation is Tense. Proxy conflict likely. Full Stop.

[Rusanyia]

Years ago…

Pavel Antonovich smiled through the jarring impact as the truck carrying him and the other soldiers in his platoon drove along a rutted dirt road in Latveria. The Socialist Federation of Rusanyia was on the offensive. The commissars had told the men that the Latverian invasion had been quickly and easily repulsed, and now it was time to bring the benefits of socialism to the Latverians. Pavel Antonovich was a single piece of a massive invasion force, thousands of men and tanks, that had been given the order to roll across the border. Their objective was the city of Uhniv.

A distant roar above the truck prompted Pavel Antonovich to stick his head out of the back of the truck. Flights of jet engine fighters, some of the most modern weapons in the world, were flying overhead. The swept-wing jets looked like something out of a science fiction movie. It was more proof of the superiority of socialism and the power of the Socialist Federation. The Latverians hadn’t had a chance to mount any sort of defense yet – the Rusanyians had overwhelmed the few military units stationed near the border and pushed forwards. Pavel Antonovich wondered idly why the Latverians had tried to invade Rusanyia with so few soldiers, but maybe that was just the arrogance of feudal lords.

“We will soon be in Borvagrad, comrade!” Kusma Mikhailovich shouted over the roar of the truck’s engine. “And then it’s on to Bruzenland!”

Now

Dobromyl was down the road from Spratanovka. It was a sleepy hamlet, smaller than Spratanovka, close to a Latverian Army military base. When Oleg Zarvoy broadcast his message of rebellion, the soldiers of the military base had chosen to join the Donhansk People’s Brigade. They had been poorly paid, and recruiters from Novorusanyia promised that they would receive generous bonuses if they switched their allegiance. The soldiers had put on the red armband and marched out to seize control of Dobromyl, Spratanovka, and other towns and cities in the border region. The uniformed soldiers had a space on their sleeves where a flag patch, the flag of Latveria, had once been displayed. As the first act of their rebellion, the soldiers had ripped the flag patches off of their uniforms and burned them.

The soldiers in their uniforms were joined by militiamen from the People’s Brigade, who wore a motley collection of hunting jackets and normal civilian clothing. These men carried an assortment of weapons, everything from old Socialist-era submachine guns to AK-model assault rifles to hunting rifles with telescopic sights. These militiamen carried banners that displayed the flag of the old People’s Republic of Latveria, and bore slogans such as “FREEDOM FOR DONHANSK” and “LATVERIA LEAVE US ALONE.” They marched alongside the defecting soldiers, shouting slogans and signing patriotic Rusanyian songs. Most of the people cheered the militia and the soldiers. They welcomed the idea of a new country for the Rusanyians in Latveria. Latverians who lived in these towns who were not Rusanyians, or who were known to be opposed to the idea of an independent Donhansk, were often beaten by mobs.

In the Capital of Borvagrad

Prime Minister Lucia Bardas sat in the strategic room, surrounded by generals and other politicians. The situation in Donhansk was spiraling out of control. The Donhansk People’s Brigade was seizing territory faster than the generals could track their progress. Every few minutes an officer or an aide would run into the room and announce that another location was now outside of Latverian control. They were marking these locations on a paper map, like it was 1949 again.

“The army base outside Dobormyl is not responding to any messages,” a general told the Prime Minister. “If it has been taken by the rebels, or defected, then Oleg Zarvoy is now in control of a large cache of military-grade weaponry.”

“We cannot allow Novorusanyia to gain more momentum,” Lucia Bardas said. “Gather whatever troops you have nearby and send them to take back the Dobromyl army base.”

The Latverian Army used a strange mix of Bruzen and Rusanyian weapons, equipment, and vehicles. This was a legacy of the division of the country between west and east. When the two countries had been reunited, the two militaries had also been combined. In some cases, this was problematic – many units that had previously been part of the army of the People’s Republic of Latveria had defected and joined Oleg Zarvoy and the Donhansk People’s Brigade. But it also meant that the Latverian army had plenty of firepower available, despite its relatively small size. When the orders came from Borvagrad, two companies of the Latverian Army mobilized into a large convoy of armored vehicles and began to advance down the highway towards Dobromyl.

Outside the Town of Dobromyl

The Donhansk People’s Brigade was lying in wait for the Latverian Army. The two companies rolled down the highway, not suspecting that they were driving directly into a kill zone. Mortars began to fire on the armored vehicles. The explosive mortar rounds landed inaccurately, but the commander of the convoy ordered his vehicles to slow down and spread out. Soldiers dismounted and began to spread out into a skirmish line. Snipers began to fire, picking off lone soldiers from long distance.

“These rebels aren’t so tough,” the convoy commander said to one of the crew of the armored vehicle he was riding in. “All they can do is harass us from a distance.”

Before the commander could even laugh, the situation changed. Anti-tank missiles erupted from carefully hidden positions. The armored vehicles were spread out, which meant it was easy for the Rusanyian technicians who were operating the launchers to guide the missiles directly into their targets. The missiles were designed to penetrate the thick armor of main battle tanks, and they easily punched through the thinner protection of the troop carriers and armored cars. As the Latverian troops looked around in shock at the sudden destruction of their vehicles, machine guns opened up and began to cut down soldiers like wheat in a field. The commander of the convoy was killed in the opening volley of missiles. The survivors fell back in confusion.

[Astoria]

OFFICIAL STATEMENT
FROM THE OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT
Regarding the Recent Developments in Latveria
Issued: Today

The President, having been updated on the situation in eastern Latveria and having consulted with the Secretary of State, would like to encourage all parties to pursue peaceful and negotiated solutions to the present conflict. The use of armed force by Novorusanyia is a dangerous escalation and will only result in unnecessary suffering for the population of Latveria. The reunification of Latveria was a triumph of diplomacy based on the mutual recognition of a shared nationality – it would be an utter tragedy for that achievement to be marred by the shedding of blood over differences which can be resolved through non-violent means.

The President has instructed the State Department to issue the appropriate travel advisories and warnings for those considering travel to Latveria, particularly the eastern portion of the country. Astorian nationals currently in eastern Latveria are encouraged to make preparations for departure as soon as possible, due to the risk of additional outbreaks of violence.

Signed,
David Jefferson Adams
President, United States of Astoria

[Bruzenland]

Near Borvagrad, Latveria...many years ago.

They have been expecting them, the Latverian Army, in a desperate call for help decided to head for Bruzenland. Luckily they already knew the situation, their developing web of spies and whistleblowers had told them of the incoming storm, one that would trample Latveria and soon invade their fatherland to consume Leinz.

And here is when Bruzenland fought for the first time the communist hordes of Rusanyia. Karl Gunstman was waiting in his MG position in the outskirts of the city of Borvagrad, along with what remained of the Latverian army that was forced to retreat from the reletnless invasion of Rusanyia. He was ordered to hold the line, while the 3º Panzerdivision protected the frontline as they lie dormant in the ruins of the Bombed city of Borvograd.

And as morning came, his spotter detected movement with his binoculars. A group of transport trucks and other soldiers on foot showed up, followed by Rusanyian tanks. "That was when I pressed the trigger and fired my machine-gun" he told his grandchildren.

Today, Leinz

"The situation in Latveria isn't looking good, is it?" Asked Gretel to Albert, who was sitting in his desk with a hand on his mouth, his moustache touching his index finger.

"No, if at all it keeps going downhill. We got info from Spratanovka, some backwater town on the border with Rusanyia, it's more than clear that an independence call will soon show up. Pressure will be made for Donhansk to be independent. Pardon my language Gretel but it's going to be a shitshow. Astoria alerady got a heads up on the situation and is calling for a peaceful solution" Gretel crossed her arms and sighed.

"Yes, quite the shitshow. Well, what do you think you can do. I'm the minister of defense in title only. Better tell it to Adler instead. But if you want my advice, the world is unknowingly waiting for a powerplay. You know what our posture is regarding influence and power" Albricht looked at her and leaned back on his chair.

"I agree. Move in, dig in and block any chance Donhansk expansion, they'll be so tiny that they wouldn't be able to grow, either they get absorbed by Rusanyia and the few bastards that still support them will be happy, while Latveria continues to bee our buffer zone. Sounds good for now" Gretel smiled, she stood up and looked through the window not too far at the city.

"Well, hopefully that'll buy your people time to find a more 'Diplomatic solution'. Specially if you speak to the Rusanyians from a position of power" Albricht nodded, he agreed on everything Gretel told him, now his job was to persuade his new minister of defense on the matter, which wouldn't be too difficult, there has been animosity between Rusanyia and Bruzenland ever since the War in Latveria, easy public approval if one tried to look at the positive side of things.

Dobromyl, Republic of Latveria (Unofficially Donhansk People's Republic)

He was walking with Amelia and his daughter Anna fast down the street, word on the street was that the Airport in Dobromyl was soon to cease all civilian travel. The time to escape was now or never. Andreas knew it was a mistake to work in Latveria, his family had history here, his grandfather, Karl fought during the war; Andreas and Amelia were Bruzen through and through, a professional engineer from the private sector working for Aegis Industries the most profitable Bruzen weapons manufacturer, and as Donhansk started to set free from Latveria, the Company Pulled out as soon as news became common knowledge, not being able to provide safe passage for most of their employees.

Add as a cherry on top that he had stirred the stew quite a bit on social media as a vocal detractor of the DPR. Nationalists were abound these days, specially those who supported the cause of the DPR and probably yearned for the days of Socialism under the Socialist Federation of Rusanyia. He was already on the airport, their ticket was ready and they just had to wait, so far so good.

Just as the time to board the plane drew near, a group of people approached Andreas and his family "I know you" said one of the men, wearing a worn-out jacket with military patches stitched on it, there was the old flag of the Socialist Union on his left shoulder. "You're that guy from the internet. Andreas, the fuck are you doing here?".

Andreas felt his stomach twist and turn inside his belly, but he swalloed up his fear and stood up "Well, we're just taking a flight back to Bruzenland, I was transfered an well th-" One of the men simply interrupted him, by forcing himself in his private space "Yeah, I don't really care what you're up to dude. You like talking shit on the internet? How about talking shit right here and now, huh?"

He looked at the clock, one hour left for his plane to arrive. Damn it.

"Gentlemen please, there's no need for violence. Let's discuss this with civility" The men weren't easily persuaded, they wanted violence, their extremist ideals called for blood. Bruzen blood. "No" said one of them shaking his head and smiling amused "Look around you, civility is no longer needed. You're in our country now, you do as we say" And just in that moment, the whole group attacked him.

[Rusanyia]

Years ago…

The Latverians had been stumbling backwards in retreat since the Rusanyian invasion had begun. The Socialist Federation had spent years building up its military, especially its tank divisions and Air Force. Top commanders had been conducting exercises on a massive scale, practicing new techniques of combined-arms warfare. Those years of preparation were now paying rich dividends. Every time the Latverians tried to establish a defensive line, the Rusanyian Army would send its tanks swarming around the flanks. The Latverians would lose their lines of supply and give up the position every time. But finally it seemed they had found enough courage to stand and fight outside their capital.

When the Bruzen machine guns opened fire, Pavel Antonovich was still sitting in the back of the truck. He had dismounted a few times to take part in attacks, but none of those had amounted to any serious combat. Now he heard officers shouting and the screeching sound of brakes being suddenly applied to wheels. An officer knocked on the side of the truck and announced that it was time to dismount and attack. Pavel Antonovich gripped his rifle tightly as he followed his comrades out of the back of the truck and into the fight.

Bullets were whizzing through the air, cutting down soldiers left and right. The enemy had set up an effective kill zone, but there were lots of Rusanyians to kill. Pavel Antonovich rushed for the cover of a drainage ditch, sheltering in the depression in the earth with a number of other soldiers. His friend Kusma Mikhailovich was there as well. Pavel Antonovich smiled at him but did not say anything. Kusma Mikhailovich probably would not have been able to hear it over the sounds of the battle, which were becoming louder as more forces rushed into the fight. A loud clanking sound rumbled past the drainage ditch, and Pavel Antonovich looked up to see a Rusanyian tank rolling in the direction of the enemy fire, bullets bouncing off its sloping amored hull.

“Forward, soldiers!” A commissar was leading a group of infantry behind the tank, using its large bulk for cover. The commissar looked at the men in the drainage ditch with obvious disdain. “Get up, comrades! Move forward!” Pavel Antonovich and Kusma Mikhailovich looked at each other. The ditch was certainly safer than getting up and charging towards a machine gun. But the tanks would help them cross the field of fire safely, and if they did not follow the commissar’s orders then they would be severely punished. Shouting patriotic slogans, the two soldiers clambered up the side of the ditch and joined the charge.

Now

The Latverian Army was a well-equipped, modern military force. It had been formed from the two militaries of the two Latverian states, the democratic west and the communist east. But neither of those militaries had ever seen combat, because the Cold War had never gone hot. After the two Latverias were reunified, corruption began to run rampant in the new country. Many soldiers and officers in the armed forces sold surplus weapons on the black market, or took bribes from organized crime. The army was not prepared to suddenly fight a motivated militia, especially not one that had been reinforced by defectors and weapons from that same army. The disaster outside Dobromyl was the biggest example of this, but in a dozen small skirmishes the Latverian government’s troops were pushed out of the Donhansk region or prevented from entering.

One reason for this sudden success by the Donhansk People’s Brigade was the presence of soldiers from the Rusanyian Army, who had been sent to provide covert support to the rebels. These soldiers wore uniforms without any identification, but their equipment and weapons were clearly a step up from what the People’s Brigade was using. Images of these soldiers began to circulate on social media. Some of the photos were taken by pro-independence inhabitants of Donhansk. They were not intended to accidentally reveal the presence of Rusanyian soldiers. They had just been exciting images of pro-independence soldiers defeating the government, and people posted them to celebrate those victories. Other photos were taken by people opposed to independence. These did highlight the fact that some of the members of the Donhansk Peoples Brigade looked and acted like soldiers from a professional military. Soon international news agencies were reporting on the credible evidence that Rusanyian soldiers were working alongside the Donhansk People’s Brigade.

Komarol, in Eastern Latveria

Komarol was the largest city in Donhansk, and it was close to the border with Rusanyia. These reasons made it the obvious choice for the new capital of the Donhansk People’s Republic. Oleg Zarvoy and the leadership of Novorusanyia all gathered in Komarol and began the task of creating a new government. Oleg Zarvoy, as Provisional President, was responsible for most of the policy-making in the government. This was billed as an emergency wartime measure that would be changed when Latveria recognized Donhansk’s independence and withdrew all its government officials and soldiers from the region. In reality, Oleg Zarvoy ran Novorusanyia as a strongman surrounded by lackeys and loyal subordinates. He would rule the new nation with the same dictatorial powers that he had exercised when he was just running a political party.

One of Oleg Zarvoy’s first actions was to hold a press conference on the steps of the city hall, which was now serving as the provisional capitol building for the Donhansk People’s Republic. Most of the reporters in attendance were from local newspapers and other publications that had been supportive of independence for Donhansk. Several Rusanyian news agencies had also sent reporters. The only international press allowed to attend was a single reporter from the World Press Agency, and they were forbidden from asking any questions.

“The reclamation of Donhansk is proceeding smoothly,” Oleg Zarvoy told the assembled crowd of reporters. “There has been some violence, and this is regrettable. If the government in Borvagrad would simply allow us to have our nation, as we have advocated for years, then there would be no need for any bloodshed. As for the reports of so-called vigilantes attacking people, I reject that label and framing of the situation. We here in Donhansk have been oppressed for nearly two decades. Many people from western Latveria and Bruzenland moved into our communities to exploit us. They made massive profits on our backs, and manipulated politicians and other figures to preserve their power and their control. So now we are acting in self-defense by ejecting these poisonous foreigners from our communities. I do not care if the President of Astoria condemns us. I do not care if Bruzenland condemns us. They are far away, and only understand things through the lens of profit and control. We will remove their influence from Donhansk.”

[Bruzenland]

Years ago...

"The defense was going well, the Rusanyians seemed to have found an obstacle they couldn't crush with their mighty tanks, for we had tanks of our own". The loud boom form the hidden tanks that now showed their grey and metallic visage from under the ruins of the dead town echoed on the valley that served as the fields of mars of this battle.

Karl kept firing his machingun, focused on firing short bursts at any communist dog that dared poked out their head, yet the Rusanyians kept advancing, but he knew that it was a matter of time before either the Rusanyians were ordered to fall back and push into the attack, or retreat and dig-in far more durable defenses.

Did he ever killed someone? He'll never tell, but he will tell how he heard the Rusanyian comissar yell something in their language what would be the equal to "Charge!" and charge they did. That was when ever machinegun post went full berserk, Karl felt a short surge of panic but he managed to keep it cool. He pressed the trigger and his machine gun spat fire like an enraged dragon. He saw scores of soldiers falling to either his bullets or his comrades firing their own machineguns and weapons.

'Why send people to die like this?' he thought to himself, his officers would have never ordered a charge against a fortified position in such a foolish manner, it was something that he would never understand entirely. Was it patriotic fervor? was it a psychological strategy? maybe both? Those thoughts were meaningless now, for he had one job. Fire his machinegun.

Checkpoint Charlie, Zrobotov Contested city between the Donhansk Rebels and the Latverian Government, Zrobotov Stadium, City Outskirts, Donhansk Region, Latveria.

Zrobotov was a hellhole, Ernst felt pity for the people trapped in this town, for they were constantly in the cross-fire between government troops and rebels. Still, his orders were to keep this city as a contested area for as long as possible, the orders of the Brigade was to not give one inch of territory; they were to keep the rebels enclosed in Donhansk.

Checkpoint Charlie was as safe as a boat in the middle of a hurricane like any place in the contested border regions of the Donhask. He was leaning against a humvee for today he had some idle time, he had arrived a few days ago and already faced some combat with rebels, a short skirmish that ended with no casualties but giving them a few inches of control of the city.

He still had a sense of fear on him, for they had limited support, it wasn't a full scale war, yet; so Air Support would be limited to helicopters and the ocassional air-strike but he wouldn't be upset if Lufftwaffe combat jets crossed the blue skies above him. The sounds of distant gunfire covered the silent morning, and looking for something to do he walked over to a group of Latverian and Bruzen soldiers gathered nearby, they were conducting artillery strikes on Rebel positions and he just approached to watch, of course he walked close his Bruzen comrades, his Latverian was pretty bad, only knowing simple ways of communication and the odd phrase here and there, but he was slowly picking up.

"Battery, 50º Southwest, coordinates are: 3-6-6-9 Sector A, Fire when ready". The Latverians quickly loaded the guns and after a few moments after calibrating the cannons, the gunnery officer shouted. "Вогонь!" Ernst covered his ears and closed his eyes, moving away from the blast like the everybody else. The thundering boom of the Artillery made his head swirl. After removing his hands from his ears he listened to the distant explosions.

[Kavkan]

Currently in the Federal Republic of Kavkan

Many Telegrams and Diplomatic messages have been sent out from various Kavkan Governmental entities to various diplomats and embassies involved in the Latverian Conflict.

OFFICIAL STATEMENT
FROM THE OFFICE OF THE PRIME MINISTER OF THE FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF KAVKAN

The Federal Republic of Kavkan calls for peaceful and Diplomatic resolving of the ongoing conflict in Latveria.
Kavkan condemns the actions of the Latverian Government regarding their willingness to use military force against the peaceful people of Donhansk.
The Federal Republic of Kavkan is willing to support international observers who will watch over the conflict.

Signed,
Arkham Pavel
Prime Minister and Head of the Peoples Council, Federal Republic of Kavkan

Diplomatic Message
From the Kavkan Ambassador to Rusanyia
Encryption level: High

Greetings, my name is Iwan Orbut, Diplomatic Envoy sent by the Federal Republic of Kavkan.
First of all, Kavkan thinks that the situation in Latveria is critical so my Government has instructed me to request Transit approval for Kavkan Planes and Convoys through Rusanyia which have the sole purpose of delivering humanitiarian (and possibly limited military) aide to the people of Donhansk and the Donhansk Peoples Brigade. Furthermore we request to get into contact with the Head of the Donhansk Peoples Republic so that further requests can be sent directly to Donhansk. In exchange Kavkan offers generous trading contracts to Rusanyia.

Signed,
Iwan Orbut, Diplomatic envoy from the Federal Republic of Kavkan

[Rusanyia]

Years ago…

The enemy machine guns were viciously effective, and the enemy had anti-tank weapons as well. Pavel Antonovich watched a nearby tank explode spectacularly, consuming the armored vehicle as well as the squad of infantry that had been sheltering behind it. Pavel Antonovich grimaced and ducked his head down lower, hoping that fate would protect him from the hail of bullets. The tank he was using for cover fired its gun, a booming roar that temporarily drowned out all the other noise in the world. Kusma Mikhailovich grabbed Pavel Antonovich by the shoulder and shouted something about better cover. Pavel Antonovich nodded and followed his friend away from the tank and towards a small hill where they could shelter from the storm of lead and fire. They reached safety just in time to watch their tank explode, joining its friend on a fiery pyre. The field was becoming thick with dead men and dying tanks.

“Fall back!”

An officer was shouting the command to retreat. Such an order was unheard of in the Red Army. The men were taught that the proud army of the Socialist Federation would never need to go backwards, no matter who it was facing on the battlefield. But amid the dead and dying, Pavel Antonovich could see reason in the man’s order. And surely this was just a short pause. The enemy had caught them by surprise with their sudden stiff resistance and the Red Army had not been prepared for a long battle. Once the mass of men and machinery had been gathered into a true fighting force, that mailed fist would punch through whatever brittle line the Latverians had managed to erect here in front of their capital. As Pavel Antonovich and Kusma Mikhailovich began to inch backwards, staying low to the ground to avoid the gunfire that still spat out from the distant enemy bunkers, they heard the distant but constant roar of engines overhead. The first wave of Red Air Force bombers had arrived to begin their bombing run on Borvagrad.

Checkpoint Charlie, Zrobotov Contested city between the Donhansk Rebels and the Latverian Government, Zrobotov Stadium, City Outskirts, Donhansk Region, Latveria.

Zrobotov was a hellhole, Ernst felt pity for the people trapped in this town, for they were constantly in the cross-fire between government troops and rebels. Still, his orders were to keep this city as a contested area for as long as possible, the orders of the Brigade was to not give one inch of territory; they were to keep the rebels enclosed in Donhansk.

Checkpoint Charlie was as safe as a boat in the middle of a hurricane like any place in the contested border regions of the Donhask. He was leaning against a humvee for today he had some idle time, he had arrived a few days ago and already faced some combat with rebels, a short skirmish that ended with no casualties but giving them a few inches of control of the city.

He still had a sense of fear on him, for they had limited support, it wasn't a full scale war, yet; so Air Support would be limited to helicopters and the ocassional air-strike but he wouldn't be upset if Lufftwaffe combat jets crossed the blue skies above him. The sounds of distant gunfire covered the silent morning, and looking for something to do he walked over to a group of Latverian and Bruzen soldiers gathered nearby, they were conducting artillery strikes on Rebel positions and he just approached to watch, of course he walked close his Bruzen comrades, his Latverian was pretty bad, only knowing simple ways of communication and the odd phrase here and there, but he was slowly picking up.

"Battery, 50º Southwest, coordinates are: 3-6-6-9 Sector A, Fire when ready". The Latverians quickly loaded the guns and after a few moments after calibrating the cannons, the gunnery officer shouted. "Вогонь!" Ernst covered his ears and closed his eyes, moving away from the blast like the everybody else. The thundering boom of the Artillery made his head swirl. After removing his hands from his ears he listened to the distant explosions.

Zrobotov, on the front lines

On the other side of the city, Donhansk People’s Brigade soldiers ran for cover as the rumbling sound grew louder, signaling that incoming artillery was about to land. Valeriy Leonidovich hurried with them into shelter, crouching in the shelter of the door of an abandoned building while a series of explosions walked along the broad avenue. A truck that had been transporting supplies from a captured army base further back in Donhansk took a direct hit and turned into a massive fireball. Shrapnel cut down several soldiers and wounded many others, who wailed and screamed in pain as bits of metal lacerated their arms, legs, and bodies. Valeriy Leonidovich remained untouched, and he thanked God in Heaven that this was so. When the dust had cleared, he rushed down the street to watch the Brigade’s response to this newest attack.

A battery of rocket launchers had been brought up during the night. They were crude weapons, little more than a box of rocket tubes mounted on the back of trucks. But they would spread far more devastation than the artillery guns the Latverians were using to pound the rebel positions. As Valeriy Leonidovich watched, the crews hurried to prepare the weapons for firing. Other Rusanyians, like him, were directing the militiamen in their operations. There were many ex-Latverian Army soldiers in the People’s Brigade, but few with experience in artillery or other heavy weapons. Fortunately, Rusanyia had many, many artillery officers to spare.

“Get clear! Preparing to fire!” Valeriy Leonidovich put his hands to his ears and opened his mouth. The concussive force of dozens of rockets firing at once still staggered him, making him take an involuntary step back. The rockets whooshed into the air, screaming as their engines propelled them out of their launch tubes and towards the Latverian Army positions on the other side of Zrobotov.

Diplomatic Message
From the Kavkan Ambassador to Rusanyia
Encryption level: High

Greetings, my name is Iwan Orbut, Diplomatic Envoy sent by the Federal Republic of Kavkan.
First of all, Kavkan thinks that the situation in Latveria is critical so my Government has instructed me to request Transit approval for Kavkan Planes and Convoys through Rusanyia which have the sole purpose of delivering humanitiarian (and possibly limited military) aide to the people of Donhansk and the Donhansk Peoples Brigade. Furthermore we request to get into contact with the Head of the Donhansk Peoples Republic so that further requests can be sent directly to Donhansk. In exchange Kavkan offers generous trading contracts to Rusanyia.

Signed,
Iwan Orbut, Diplomatic envoy from the Federal Republic of Kavkan

Diplomatic Message
From the Foreign Minister Yaroslav Igorevich
Addressed to Iwan Orbut, Diplomatic of the Federal Republic of Kavkan
Encryption level: High
On behalf of President Alexei Kysev and the government of the Union State of Rusanyia, I wish to express gratitude that your government takes the current situation in Donhansk so seriously. We are willing to facilitate the entry of Kavkan vehicles into Rusanyia, and their travel from Rusanyia into the territory of the Donhansk People’s Republic. Should the Federal Republic of Kavkan wish to formally recognize the Donhansk People’s Republic as a legitimate state, we can make the necessary introductions between your diplomatic corps and the foreign ministry of the Donhansk People’s Republic.

[Freiderichsland]

The border between Freiderichsland and Latveria

As the fighting increased in intensity, people began to look for safer places to live. Mothers and fathers considered where they could take their children to keep them from becoming one more dead body in the fight between the government and the Donhansk rebels. Freiderichsland and Latveria had been friendly neighbors ever since the mid-1940s, when the fascist regime in Freiderichsland was overthrown and the monarchy was restored to power. Latveria had been divided between capitalist west and communist east, and Freiderichsland had been concerned about a communist invasion. This was the same thing that had happened to Latveria, the Socialist Federation had invaded a feudal nation and tried to impose communism. But no invasion ever happened, and some Latverians who wanted to flee into a land with more freedom chose to try and sneak through the border patrols and enter Freiderichsland. Now the same thing was happening: Latverians who wanted a better life were traveling to the border and trying to get across.

Freiderichsland was a rural nation, with lots of small farmers and shepherds who tended fields and flocks that their parents and grandparents and great-grandparents and so on had tended. It was not a land of immigrants, but Latverians were close enough that they could assimilate if they were willing to try. If not, they would find it hard to make a life for themselves in the Grand Duchy. Any refugees trying to cross into Freiderichsland would be stopped by the Border Guard. Mounted on horses and armed with carbine rifles, the Border Guard was mostly made up of Talhainers who had been riding and shooting since they were young. They were coarse people but not unkind, and they often gave the poor souls they discovered whatever food they could from their rations. The refugees would be taken to the nearest town to be dealt with by the Schulte, the highest-ranking government official in each village. He would record the names and ages of the refugees and a short physical description, and then try to figure out what was to be done with them. Often they were sent further along to larger cities for the Burgomaster to deal with. Sometimes, if a farm needed extra hands or there was some other role the refugees could fill, they were permitted to stay in that town. This system was slow and only worked so long as the flow of refugees was a trickle. If it became a flood, then the villages along the border would become overwhelmed.

[Bruzenland]

Years ago...

"We saw them fall back, and for a moment we felt we had conquered the whole world. But then we heard it, the planes roaring at the distance, ready to bomb the rest of Latveria, there was nothing we could do but to stay put and hope the Luftwaffe could make it on time. As for us? We just waited, and fortified our positions.

Skies of Latveria

"Oh the flying was boring as all hell, even though the view was quite beautiful, it was mostly silence and hoping not to get shredded by Flak of ambushed by an enemy squadron. Unless an actual dogfight happened" Said the old man as he rested on a bench, the park was quiet and with spring slowly showing up, the weather provided a nice and calm atmosphere, Sudentor was the southermost city in Bruzenland, and at this time of year many Bruzens come here to escape from the cold of Northern Bruzenland.

"There was I, flying on my ME-109, we were told that Rusanyian bombers were about to bomb Borvagrad itself, if we let them then our supplies lines would be severed and the boys on the ground wouldn't stand a chance we would have had to fall back and leave the boys in Kwazca to fend off for themselves.! So off we were to try and fend off those bombers. I still remember it...maybe a bit too clear"

Andreas held his position in his squadron dutifully, their mission was to be on the lookout for incoming Rusanyian bombers, as the morning died and gave way for midday to come forth, the sun reached it's apex and the squad leader announced "We're angels 15 gentlemen, eyes peeled for any Rusanyian bombers, dive, shoot and pull. Nice and easy".

The deafening silence covered Andreas Cockpit, as he sighed and leaned on his seat he noticed a glimpse in the corner of his eyes, turning his head to the left he noticed them. A formation of bombers, steadily and orderly flying towards their objectives. "I see movement at 3 o'clock" After a few moments of silence, his radio sprung to life.

"Understood Red 3, we see 'em too, all elements, pick a target and attack!" Andreas managed to spot the bomber on the lead, for he was young and eager to serve, he banked his plane downwards and making good use of the ME-109's ability to fly under atmospheric pressure and high speeds, he let gravity do it's thing by allowing the plane to reach insane speeds, his suit pressured his body to prevent him passing out, and as he carefully aimed his sights, he pressed the trigger when he got a good angle. He saw tracers flying like lances towards the Rusanyian plane and towards himself for the crew of the bombers obviously wouldn't let the enemy to destroy their planes. He heard the bouncing of bullets on his plane but after a swift fly-by he pulled up to the safety of height, ready to make another pass.

Zrobotov, 767 meters from rebel positions
They were close, Gustav could hear them laughing from time to time. In reality, was is boring, it's not as they make it up to be in videogames with bullets flying and bombs going off everywhere, combat is mostly quiet, boring and when it gets really heated, scary, because then it's just like games, except that out of the blue, you can fade to black and wouldn't even know what happened until it's too late and you're on the floor bleeding out.

He was lying on the floor neatly protected by a tiny hole that helped as the doorway for his bullet to fly off, he was going to be here for awhile, a Latverian unit was supposed to flank this position in a matter of minutes while he and his own unit provided support, a mix of Donhansk rebels and mercenaries without a country to serve, but still his internal patriot telling him that those were Rusanyians posing as mercs.

"Let me know when I can squeeze the trigger Kompe he called through the radio to his CO" After a few minutes of silence, his reply came through. "Alright, hit 'em" He aimed his weapon properly, and after a seconds of making sure his shot would be true, he made one last quick check that his aim and distance was right. The head of a young Donhansk soldier setting beautifully in his sights.

"You got a mark?" asked his spotter, 'Shooter' as his buddies in his unit would call him replied "Like a sitting duck". The spotter nodded and said "Fire, fire, fire" and then, a loud Bang!. He saw part of the head of the soldier blowing up in a messy gorefest. He was down, hopefully the lad had a quick death. He pulled the lever back and a massive case sprung out the chamber. Next

[Simallia]

On a tattered piece of paper...

The Impoverished Pseudo-State of Simallia

Office of Foreign Affairs, Tourism, War

From the Desk of Abdullah Abu al-Qasim Al Bahgdabbi
Minister of War, Tourism and Foreign Affairs

Subject: Rebellion in the North

It saddens our hearts to see such strife in the nation of Lavtariria Latveria as the people there, who are fat and well fed, seek to steal the sights of the world towards themselves... But we the impoverished peoples of Simallia need food and water... and stability. Let these people have their speck of land as they cry like babies for sweet candy. They only seek the attention of the adults so they fight and squabble so we pay them our attention! If they are so unfit as to flatten their crops and shed the blood of their children for something so tiny perhaps we are better off letting them kill each other...

So my fellow nations! Ignore these children! Ignore the cry babies and give us more aid... help us feed the people here! Do this and we will give you the bodies of our children to die in your war!

Signed,
Abdullah Abu al-Qasim Al Bahgdabbi

[Kavkan]

Ulalovsk Airbase, near the Kavkan-Rusanyia Border

It's the dawn of a new day. The sun is rising and the sound of faint helicopters and machinery working is audible.
The commander of the airbase is, like usually, drinking his morning coffee while he watches over his airbase. Suddenly a Telegram flies in, it's directly from the army staff. One ensign rushes over to get it and swiftly hands it over to the commander who takes a moment to read it. He then puts it down and calls all the company commanders in for an emergency briefing in his office.
Some time later a horde of company commanders rush out of the Regimental-Commanders Office and start preparations for the coming Transit of military forces over to Latveria.

Later

Dozens and dozens of military trucks are being driven from their parking spots near the hangars and warehouses of the Airbase. Soldiers can be seen checking and working on the vehicles while other Soldiers seem to load seemingly hundreds of crates of military hardware onto the URAL and GAZ trucks. Later in the day even armored vehicles and artillery pieces are seen being driven into the airbase. The whole landing strip is parked with vehicles and hundreds of soldiers are rushing to fill the vehicles with endless streams of material. Hours later more men can be seen entering the airbase, either by foot or via vehicle. Armored Personel Carriers are seen being loaded up with troops, all of whom seem to be heavily armed. The commander steps up to the provisional Headquarters which have been set up on the landing strip and begins barking at the officers.

"Don't forget to tell the troops to remove all of their insignia. If I only see one soldier at the final checkup who is still wearing the Kavkan Flag on his Uniform then you will all be fucked, got it?"
A loud Yes comrade commander can be heard from the Tents before low ranking officers rush to check the situation once again.
Finally at nightfall, after hours of preparation the column of vehicles can be seen driving out of the airbase. The loud roaring sounds of the diesel tank engines can be heard from miles away as the sound finally dissapears in the distance.

4:30 AM, Kavkan-Rusanyia Border crossing

Seemingly without ease the Kavkan Military Column rolls over the Border into Rusanyia. Dozens of Trucks, APC's and Tanks, all without license plates or insignia can be seen rolling into Rusanyia with roaring engines.
Local Kavkan Media outlets take pictures of those columns and the pictures of the Tanks and Trucks can be seen in the Kavkan National news, although the Ministry of Defence ensures that the Military Vehicles will be taking part in exercises on Rusanyian soil.


Unidentified Vehicles moving into Rusanyia - Government exclaims that its miltiary exercises.

TELEGRAM
To Foreign Minister of Rusanyia Yaroslav Igerovich
Encryption Level: High
Greetings again, we wish to thank you for your help and want to inform you that a Military Column is on its way through Rusanyia and into Donhansk territory. Furthermore we wish to informally recognize the Donhansk people and their state and wish to have a direct line of communication set up between Kavkan and the Donhansk authorities.
Again, Warm Greetings
Iwan Orbut

[Rusanyia]

Years ago…

The enemy fighters were diving in and out of the formation of Red Air Force bombers, marking up the sky with lines of tracers from machine guns. The Rusanyian bombers were flying in a tight formation. This maximized the defensive firepower of the machine guns that each bomber carried, but it also meant that the enemy could swarm around them and pick at the lumbering planes. One bomber suddenly lurched to one side and smoke began pouring out of the engine on its right wing. A Bruzen fighter had scored a hit with its guns. Then another bomber began to fly more erratically as bullets shattered the glass of the cockpit and wounded the pilot. The Bruzen pilots could not hear the frantic calls for help that the bombers transmitted, but they could see the response.

The commanders of the Red Air Force had expected that the Luftwaffe to appear over the skies of Latveria. Now the neo-feudalist dogs would experience the power that socialist science had harnessed. A flight of MiG-15 jet fighters roared over the horizon towards the dogfight. The MiGs were stubby planes with angled wings and flat, open noses. They looked like nothing that had been seen before on the battlefields of Andalasia. They represented a new era of war in the skies. The Red Air Force had baited out some of the Luftwaffe’s prize Messerschmitt fighters. They had done this by offering them a sacrificial lamb, in the form of a flight of slow-moving bombers. Now they would unleash the jets and cripple Bruzenland’s fearsome warriors of the sky.

Zrobotov, 767 meters from rebel positions
"Let me know when I can squeeze the trigger Kompe he called through the radio to his CO" After a few minutes of silence, his reply came through. "Alright, hit 'em" He aimed his weapon properly, and after a seconds of making sure his shot would be true, he made one last quick check that his aim and distance was right. The head of a young Donhansk soldier setting beautifully in his sights.

"You got a mark?" asked his spotter, 'Shooter' as his buddies in his unit would call him replied "Like a sitting duck". The spotter nodded and said "Fire, fire, fire" and then, a loud Bang!. He saw part of the head of the soldier blowing up in a messy gorefest. He was down, hopefully the lad had a quick death. He pulled the lever back and a massive case sprung out the chamber. Next

Zrobotov, on the front lines

The sharp crack of the sniper rifle pierced the air. In its wake there was shouting and yelling as Latverians and Rusanyians ran for cover, ducking behind buildings or vehicles or other large obstacles to obscure the sniper’s view of them. The poor militiaman who had been the sniper’s first target lay motionless in the street. There was nothing but a bloody mess where his head had been. The enemy must have been using a very high-caliber weapon. That was concerning to Valeriy Leonidovich. As far as he knew, the Latverian Army did not have heavy sniper rifles. That meant it was a Bruzen sniper out there somewhere. Valeriy Leonidovich knew that there were Bruzen soldiers in Latveria, but he had not expected them to have infiltrated past the front lines so soon. He shouted in his heavily accented Latverian for the men of the Donhansk People’s Brigade to get themselves together and to try and figure out where the sniper was hiding. He could give them very little practical advice on how to do that: he was an artillery officer, not an infantry commander. He had an AK rifle slung on his back, but he was not an expert in its use because he did not expect to ever have to use it. The artillery should never be on the front lines. But now there was more gunfire, from another direction. The Latverian Army was making a push, and now the Donhansk People’s Brigade would not have the support of its rocket artillery.

TELEGRAM
To Foreign Minister of Rusanyia Yaroslav Igerovich
Encryption Level: High
Greetings again, we wish to thank you for your help and want to inform you that a Military Column is on its way through Rusanyia and into Donhansk territory. Furthermore we wish to informally recognize the Donhansk people and their state and wish to have a direct line of communication set up between Kavkan and the Donhansk authorities.
Again, Warm Greetings
Iwan Orbut

Komarol, self-proclaimed capital of the “Donhansk People’s Republic”

“We have received a message from the Rusanyians,” Kostyantyn Lyashko told Oleg Zarvoy. “They say that another nation, the Federal Republic of Kavkan, has agreed to provide us with aid. They wish to open a direct line of communication.”

Oleg Zarvoy looked up from the draft speech he was revising. It was more defiance: defiance of the Latverian government, of Bruzenland, of the whole international community that refused to recognize his movement as legitimate. It was also a call to action for his supporters, telling them to drive out the disruptive elements of their communities. This was anyone who did not support the Novorusanyia party line, as well as people from marginalized identities such as LGBT people and religious minorities. Oleg Zarvoy wanted none of them in his new nation.

“Very well,” he replied. “You will be the one responsible for handling this. I hereby appoint you Foreign Minister for the Donhansk People’s Republic.” It was something of a meaningless title, since the People’s Republic had only had foreign relations with one country, Rusanyia. But Kostyantyn Lyashko had been the middle man between Oleg Zarvoy and his friends in the Rusanyian government for years now. It was time to give him a title befitting a new, sovereign nation.

Diplomatic Message
From the Foreign Minister Yaroslav Igorevich
Addressed to Iwan Orbut, Diplomatic of the Federal Republic of Kavkan
Encryption level: High
Your military column has entered Rusanyia. We will ensure that it receives all necessary assistance in traveling to Donhansk. In the meantime, I am pleased to inform you that the government of the Donhansk People’s Republic has agreed to open a direct line of communication with your Federal Republic. Please address all correspondence to Foreign Minister Kostyantyn Lyashko.

[Bruzenland]

Skies of Latveria, years ago...

"And then they showed up, a group of planes we've never seen before, yet we've heard of. MiGs they called them, tiny planes that were fast as the devil when we finished up with the bombers, I noticed them to the corner of my eye, and that's when I saw them, approaching like cheetas to a wounded zebra"

Andreas almost panicked when he called upon the radio "Enemy fighters! westbound!" but his voice was too slow for the jet-powered planes that came prying down on them like predators. He noticed one of his comrades quickly go down and heard the frantic call from the pilot "I'm hit! Fuck my chest! I'm bailing out!" Andreas remembered well how the pilot of the ME-109 jumped out from the plane. To his knowledge, his comrade died on his way to the floor the wounds from the shell that destroyed his organs were too much for him to handle.

One by one his comrades were shot down until it was just him, the MiG's were too fast and agile to be chased down by a mere ME-109. His survival instinct and training kicked in and decided to fly towards the FLAK defenses of Ceswa not too far south. He flew with guns defense, moving erratically away from the sight of the Rusanyian pilots.

A story is told on how a single ME-109 managed to avoid, shot down one MiG and Wound the pilot of another while escaping to safety and tell back his story, a story of a skilled pilot of the legendary Lufftwaffe. Andreas was the pilot of said plane. As he soared through the sky, he did a classic Cuban-8, catching two of the MiGs off-guard, he pressed the trigger and his guns unleashed a hail of bullets that torn the tail of the MiG apart, the wreckage was quick to fall to the earth while it's wingman managed to pull out with a busted wing, after that it was a torturous twenty minutes of maneuvering and guns defense, twenty minutes that ended with Flak fire being shot at the Rusanyians while Andreas managed to return to base.

"...And form that point onwards, I realized a new era had began for planes, and I was caught right in the middle of it..."

Modern Day...

Zrobotov.

'Shooter' cocked his rifle again, his scope gave him the position of another trooper, as he pulled the trigger the loud boom from his rifle blew a hole in the man's neck, pulling the lever back he loaded up another bullet on the chamber, but when he was about to fire he noticed how a merc fired at him, the bullet hit the rifle on the barrel rendering it unusable.

"Fuck! out position has been blown, fall back!" he tossed the rifle to his spotter and pulled out a g36 Carabine laying nearby, Bruzenland wasn't hiding the fact that they were directly interfering in Latveria, a political power move to tell the other countries to 'Fuck-off of our neighborhood' specially to Rusanyia, while the other Latverian Squadron attacked, 'Shooter' fired several bursts from his carabine as his spotter and he retreated and did their best to catch up with the incoming Bruzen squadron who was fast approaching their position to provide support.