The Regensburg Front (IC, Cornellia Members Only)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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New Edom
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The Regensburg Front (IC, Cornellia Members Only)

Postby New Edom » Thu Sep 26, 2019 5:16 pm

This thread may contain mature subject mater, particularly related to war. It is only for members of the Cornellian Empire Region
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Operation Michmash

Second Lieutenant Aloysius Vikram was a young, black haired, dark olive skinned man from Edomite Hostillia, who was a second generation citizen, the son of provincial civil servants. He had been in training for nearly two years, and he was thrilled to be up in the air, but the confident young man also felt a good deal of the pressure of responsibility. He had second rear position behind his wingman, rear right flank escorting in the bombers. Vikram was very aware that he must be both a good team player as well as ready to be independent in his thinking. He must follow commands but also be ready to react swiftly according to the needs of the mission. Above all: the bombers must get within range to release their missiles and then be able to return to base.

Lieutenant-Colonel Dorian Pabadakis, in his own fighter, was in the lead along with his own wingman, and they were now moving rapidly out of their main base (Wenceslas AFB) or tributary airfields from northern Etruria Majora Province, and soon they would be over the strait. The waters of the strait were rich and fertile, full of sea grasses, corals, and fish. It was not far from Calafia, the resort city, and a protected bird and manta ray sanctuary. (Unlike many areas near the Edomite shores, near industrial hubs like Reme, Sterry, or Nass) Some might cynically think that this was actually a desire for security and control of the strait rather than concern for conservation, but in truth it was one of the few tourist zones of New Edom, In order to avoid security breaches, foreign consulates were warned nearly at the last minute that there was “risk of war” with Neue Regensburg. Most tourists in Calafia were from places like Adiron, Novitera, Rome, and so on.

Pabadakis hummed one of the dancing tunes from General Foliot’s party earlier in his cockpit. Catchy tune. Even if the General’s hobby irked him, mostly because he could not see his favourite bird without wanting to shoot it. He did love some heron pie.

The planes moved steadily ahead until they reached about 20 km beyond the beaches and coastal areas, and then half the fighters dipped down to cruise at low altitude to avoid detection. Their radars were swept out like nets to receive any possible enemy activity, but so was their AWACS, the Titanis. Over the Strait two Kite drones moved restlessly, scanning for enemy submarines or surface vessels. The planes picked up the signature of their own coast guard vessels as they moved forward.

Meanwhile, the Wolf Dogs, under the radar net of the Royal Crest, launching from Damoclea advanced on the the border country, the hills rising to mountainous territory, the rivers like blue-grey-green ribbons snaking among the sharp peaks. Forests, like the fuzzy models made by a child, clustered like moss around and over the sharp jagged rises of the land. They were commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Aaron Lacshish.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

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Neue Regensburg
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Tyranny by Majority

Postby Neue Regensburg » Sat Sep 28, 2019 9:03 am

Damoclean Frontier
Neue Regensburg

The radar in Captain Wulf Vahlen’s F-15C began indicating that there were aircraft heading his way. He was flying 5,000 feet above the Tornados, escorting them on their way to their strike missions in Damoclea. He could see them down below with his eyes. He knew that the Bombers from Military District 4 were in waves coming behind them, and yet more planes than expected were in the air coming his way.

“The Edomites are up mighty early, Major.” He said over the radio, “Permission to take my flight to engage the blackguards?”

“Yes, get rid of the scoundrels before they start heading for the tornado flights. Run them off, Ill alert the bombers behind me.” The Major replied.

“You heard him, Jager flight, let’s move in.” The flight of five F-15s began heading towards where the Edomite planes were coming.

“I say, there are more of those rascals then I thought.” Wulf said.

The major was on it already, and ordered the F-15 flights to intercept and engage the Edomites while the flight of F-16s continued on with the Tornados. The enemy were not in visual sight range yet, but they had entered into missile range. Wulf switched his radar to track one of the enemy planes to get an idea what it was doing. They were a bit far, probably about twenty miles out so Wulf decided to get a radar lock to send his AIM-9 on its merry way. He announced on the radio, “For the Kingdom!”

Then he fired his first missile. The other four planes in his flight did the same, they were spread out over a few miles in a v shape, and to Wulf’s left and right he could see streaks heading off through the sky. The tornados and F-16s were gaining speed to try and get around the enemy aircraft and to get to their targets.

Southern Sea

Lieutenant Colonel Otto von Hönigberg heard that the fighter escort had detected probable enemy aircraft heading towards them. He ordered his bomber squadrons to speed up. The bombers wings were swept all the way back as the picked-up speed and broke the sound barrier one by one. The F-111 was a particularly fast aircraft and could outrun most enemy fighters. Hopefully they would be able to break past the enemy planes coming through them, where the Edomites would have to make the choice of turning around to try and catch them, while turning their back to the escorts, or else engage the fighters and let the bombers through.

As they sped up, Otto saw that there was a larger signal in the sky.

“They must have an AWACs up.” He thought to himself, “Hopefully the fighters can take that fat bastard down. My date is with Calafia!”

He soared towards the Edomite coast leading one of the squadrons personally, while the others closed in from different directions.

Post Written by: Republica de Gran Chaco
This nation has been taken up by Vionna-Frankenlisch, who retains creative control. Most posts are presently made by Republica de Gran Chaco and Noviterra.For the old owner see Nachtmark.

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New Edom
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Postby New Edom » Sat Sep 28, 2019 8:37 pm

Defense of Peregrino

"Cast off all lines!" The Officer of the Deck called over the 7MC to the line handlers, telling them that they were to relieve their ship of its tethers to the pier. They were pulling out of port in Calafia, on their way to Peregrino..It was the last of the four “Prophet” Class diesel electric submarines that were heading for Peregrino. Two were going to be moving into the bay in a matter of hours, while one was rounding the last northern heading of Etruria Majora. The last, NENS Nathan, had just finished replenishing in Calafia and was now heading out.

The Nathan’s current crew had been together for more than two years, and was as tight as any family could be. For most of the crew, this would be their second deployment with the current crew. Just like with every submarine in the Navy, new crewmembers had to get qualified, and the Nathan was no different. Each person had to go around the ship and learn the location each valve in each compartment, as well as the systems for which each division is responsible, from the propulsion plant to the sanitary systems, and the easiest way to get it done was to partner up with another non-qual, and study. No one really had an overwhelming concern about the mission. Tensions with Neue Regensburg were very common, and while it naturally was very serious, many of the crew were more focused on their division duties and getting along with their crewmates rather than on the Regensburgers.

Lieutenant-Commander Josiah Rubens was more concerned about the mission itself. He had to coordinate his steaming with the other three submarines, and work effectively to provide for defense of Peregrino along with the Coast Guard, the small naval units, and Air Force. They would defend the first wave. If it came down to the army having to defend the place, it would likely mean that they had failed so catastrophically that there was no defense left. They had orders to ambush and harass any Regensburg vessels that crossed the line. Rear-Admiral Hiram Tophek was in overall command of the naval forces. He was considered a steady and trustworthy commander, used to making do with little in the way of resources. He was also known to have a great familiarity with the waters of northern New Edom and its neighbors.

Rubens rode the conning tower out of the harbour with his XO, passing fishing boats and various pleasure craft.

“Does it remind you of your days as a boy gathering lobsters?” Rubens asked the XO.

“I was not a common fisherman, sir,” said the XO a bit stiffly.

“Really? There is nothing shameful in being a lobster fisherman,” said Rubens blandly. “I...what?”

There was an air raid siren going off from Calafia. The two men looked over their shoulders and peered with their binoculars at the shores, the colorful marquee and strand, the glint of steel and glass of the new tourist areas.

“Signals, find out what’s going on back in Calafia,” ordered the captain. “Let’s get below and rig for general quarters…”

Operation Michmash: Damoclea

Aboard the E-15 AWACS Royal Crest, the air crew had not only been alerted by its counterpart in Damoclea, Titanis, but had picked up the movements of a number of planes that had crossed the line near the border, and its battlesplace immediately made the mission crossing from Damoclea aware of the situation. The AWACS dropped back to the defended area of King James AFB. The enemy could only be the enemy’s fighters, among the fastest planes in the Region, the infamous “Knights of the Air”.

Lieutenant-Colonel Lacshish became aware that they were facing an attack of some kind. An enemy missile, followed swiftly by others, was moving rapidly upon them. He instructed two flights (4 fighters) to move to engage and distract the enemy missiles at the same time with evasion and countermeasures, while his own half of the squadron were trying to pick out targets from among the enemy. Six planes launched R-73 missiles in response. The tactic generally used was for each pair to try to ambush one enemy plane each.

Lieutenant Zebulon, meanwhile, a rush of adrenaline surging blood in him, attempted, along with his wingman, to dive lower to evade detection by the AIM missile, then did a long loop to evade further, ready to fire off countermeasures. Once he had done this, he and his wingman each fired an R373at the enemy. “Take that, you heretic,” he mumbled to himself.

Operation Michmash: South

Lieutenant-Colonel Pabadakis was advised by Royal Crest of fast movers coming in. Pabadakis’ Caballeros were still fast and nearly maneuverable themselves. He advised Titanis to fall somewhat back, to be under the protection of their own air defenses, leaving the 12 fighters free simply to fight off the enemy if need be and complete their mission.

Whjle the AWACS alerted the Navy, and the Interceptor Squadron began to scramble, Pababakis knew he had to distract the enemy to enable the bombers to get within range to fire their Moskits. The squadron, at his instruction, spread out and moving in pairs, began to each launch to ambush enemy escorting fighters as pairs.

Project Ares Base 7,
Somewhere in Edomite Occupied Damoclea

Brigadier-General Lysias Eldath strode into his command center, his chest puffed out, and the Officer of the Day shouted, “Attention!” as he stood there, and looked around, proudly, at his command unit of operations, intelligence, signals, techs and engineers.

“Ladies and gentlemen: this is our moment. This is our time. Do you hear that? That is the ticking of the minute hand of destiny can be heard. And the time it signals is now. The day is today. To your places. We have been ordered to fire on the first of the Regenbusrg staging areas. Let us begin.”

The operation was like the running of a factory. Ammunition could not be stored right next to the gun, so it had to be moved by truck, then hoisted by crane, carefully moved into the barrel. The barrel was lifted by a complex arrangement of hydraulics. Calculations for aiming, recoil, and calculations for dealing with friendly forces had to be undertaken.
Only once all these calculations had been made and checklists completed was General Eldad advised that they were ready to fire. Thus far it had all gone according to drill. The many, many drills. Eldad kept the smile from his face. He was thrilled, many of them were, but he was also very nervous. It was as though the baleful eyes of the King-Emperor himself bored into him like those of a patriarch of old. He took a deep breath.

“You may fire when ready,” he ordered.

“Sir,” said the Gunnery Officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Othnan. He sent through the signal to the chief engineer. The firing mechanism was engaged. The propellant charge was to follow.

Nothing happened.

“What is it?” Eldad demanded.

“Sir, the initial charge did not go off,” reported Othnan.

Eldad fumed. “Withdraw the shell. Examine the barrel and the charges. Then tell them to reload and start again.” He put his hands behind his back, but his fingers worked angrily together like serpents.
Last edited by New Edom on Mon Sep 30, 2019 8:53 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

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Postby Novitera » Sat Sep 28, 2019 10:12 pm


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Neue Regensburg
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Founded: Jan 19, 2019
Tyranny by Majority

Postby Neue Regensburg » Sun Sep 29, 2019 3:36 pm

District 1

Incompetence. That was the word Admiral Bundelball had been saying lately. It was the word he was using to describe everyone or at least it seemed like it. The military mobilization he had set in motion had turned into a debacle of miscommunication and supply issues. For one, a large quantity of munitions requested from high command had accidentally went to the Eastern districts where Pupenscharter had already engaged the Edomites. It had to be rerouted back to his district with some expert bureaucratic maneuvering. Further, the flights to ferry the aircraft he would need suffered mechanical delays and without the munitions properly taken out of the storage depots it took time for them to be armed. But Bundelball had hope that the Luftheer would get its act together. General Winkelkrotsch was on it after all promised him that they would be capable of bombings within the next 48 hours. He trusted Winkelkrostch. The man was of good breeding and stature.

But the Marines were having problems as the trains had been occupied with the Army. He was not yet able to muster the division. Bundelball blamed General Pienpantz, a man of low birth. A man whose father was a mere store clerk should never had gotten the position of commanding a division of Royal Marines and this is the result when those of the aristocracy are passed over. But politics were politics and he had to accept that such undeserved appointments just had to be borne.

“Pienpantz, as soon as we can get him replaced, we must. He jeopardizes the entire operation.” Said Bundelball to Sleimehol. Although it was not really Pienpantz’s fault because of the train system at the moment.

“The man had proven himself against the Fascists. Various decorations for gallantry in combat and tactically shrewd. But I suppose the blood always tells. A man like him should have been an NCO.” Said Sleimehol derisively.

The most humiliating to Bundelball was the blundering of the Navy. Vice-Admiral Sleimehol and himself were handling this personally. However, the ship captains were having trouble recalling crews on shore leaves. The trains, after all, had been seized by the state. Much of their rail capability had been taken up by the Army and the thousands of reserves they had activated.

At least their defensive posture for the moment had been properly set up. Air defense units were scanning the skies for possible strikes and the Luftheer was able to start fielding F-15 air combat patrols. Those ships that did manage to get their crews together had left port. They were waiting offshore and kept at a steady state of alertness.

Bundelball, Winkelkrotsch and Sleimehol were outlining the plans to the senior commanders in a briefing room set up like an auditorium. Regensberger flags and crests of the royal family were draped upon the walls in a gratuitous display of patriotism.

“Gentleman, an Edomite base so close to our own shores cannot be tolerated if we are to win this war. It threatens our nation’s flank as our brothers in the east drive into Damoclea and if God is generous, New Edom itself afterwards. You have received your packets outlining your roles in all this and how they work in concert with the rest of our combined arms strategy.

I regret to say that our capabilities make seizing the Edomite half of the island unlikely. But we can cripple the base, effectively taking it out of the war. Our plan is to do an overwhelming assault using both naval and air assets. General Winkelkrotsch…”

Winkelkrotsch stepped forward giving his mustache a rub before he spoke. “We’ll be launching our air assets in two waves. The first will come in from the North split into 3 groups and spaced far enough to force them to split their interceptors as well in order to engage all three at once. They will bomb key base targets. Radar, munitions and fuel depots,the runways and the hangars to effectively cripple the base. However, we anticipate Edomite anti-air assets to be tough. Interceptors and enemy ground based air defenses will be able to blunt the first wave which is why it is to coincide with a missile bombardment from the Navy.” Winkelkrotsch looked to Sleimehol.

The bald Sleimehol cleared his throat. “Two of our missile cruisers will empty their payloads of ground attack cruise missiles sometime while the first wave is en route. If calculations are correct, they will strike just as our bombers enter bombing range. The goal here is to overwhelm their air defense systems by having multiple redundancies to take out every key target.”

“It could be that the first wave does not even reach their target. That is the reason for the second wave. While the Edomites race to intercept the wave coming in from the North, the second wave will arrive from the South going after the same targets.” Winkelkrotsch added..

“While their air assets are occupied our own naval forces will be looking to engage theirs. Without the support of air units, this is the time to take out any ships in the area but ultimately a secondary objective.” Said Sleimehol.

At this point Bundelball cleared his throat and stepped forward again. The two other men stepped back in response. “As you can see, timing is everything. Our primary objective is the air base. Without it, the ground forces and port are vulnerable. We can then bomb Peregrino at our leisure taking out supplies and fuel. By the time we land Marines, the 3 regiments stationed there will have withered on the vine.”

Questions were answered according to Bundelball’s procedure. A senior officer would have to stand, recite his family name and who his father was. That included titles and accolades. From there, there was room for the officer to maneuver. If there was something more impressive about the man’s family in further generations, they were allowed to mention that in order to bolster the impetus of their introduction. Many whose families had fallen in favor did this. While those who were still of high repute did not as it had a greater effect to speak less. It was Bundeball’s way of shaming those of low status and creating an inner circle within his command chain.

After the meeting he met with Sleimehol and Winkelkrotsch again in private. "How long until we can strike dammit!"

"Sir, we are mustering as fast as we can. It will be at least another 30 hours." Sleimehol replied.

"I think I can shave some time on my end. We're loading munitions and fuel unto trucks to take upon the roads." Said Winkelkrotsch.

Bundelball was incensed. The military buildup should have been slower. More gradual. Trying to do everything at once had made things considerably worse. To make matters worse they had saddled him with generals like Pienpantz who had less aristocratic blood than a stone. "At least get our ships out of port. Have the maintenance crews work double time and charter commercial flights to get the crews back if you need to. At the very least, the Navy will acquit itself well. All this clutter is the Army's fault anyways."
Last edited by Neue Regensburg on Sun Sep 29, 2019 3:38 pm, edited 2 times in total.
This nation has been taken up by Vionna-Frankenlisch, who retains creative control. Most posts are presently made by Republica de Gran Chaco and Noviterra.For the old owner see Nachtmark.

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Neue Regensburg
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Tyranny by Majority

Postby Neue Regensburg » Sun Sep 29, 2019 6:37 pm

Damoclean Frontier
Neue Regensburg

Jets streaked overhead on their way to targets in the east. Colonel Burgermeister frowned at the site. The war had really come at last. His regiment of mountaineers had trained hard over the summer, but the weather was changing and he knew that fighting in the mountains in the winter would be grim. He took his helmet off for a moment and scratched his bald head before replacing his headgear and snapping the chinstrap. He was a short and stocky man with broad shoulders and a large wide jar. His bushy eyebrows seemed as if they were reaching out to do their best to extend past the brim of his helmet.

“Grimsley!” He called to his aid, “Grimsley, I want the men prepared to move against that ridgeline ahead of us!”

“That ridgeline sir?” The thin Major confirmed, his thin waxed mustache twitching a bit.

“Yes Grimsley, those planes mark the beginning of the fighting, and we should march up and take those positions that control the roads before the Edomites do!” Burgermsieter declared, “We cannot be weak here, either the Edomites are going or I am going, and I am certainly not going! Grimsley, it’s a difficult responsibility, when you are the best, number one, regimental commander for the king, and I want it known throughout the land from sea to sea, that the second regiment of the Royal Mountaineers is the best and finest regiment of the king!”

“I see sir, shall I summon your staff for planning?” Grimsley asked

“Yes Grimsley, and inform the battalion commanders to make ready to move across the border this very night! I shall head to division to inform Major General Weihnachten of my plans. Is the brigade artillery and other support units prepared?” The colonel asked.

“They should be, and I will see to it that they are whipped if they are not ready for battle my colonel!” Grimsley clicked his heels and sped off.

Skies over the Damoclean Frontier

Wulf Vahlen had felt pride in his chest and had grinned when his flight had been the lead and had launched their missiles the enemy. They had been the first to take a shot at the enemy as far as he knew. That pride turned into a knot into his stomach as the warning in the cockpit screamed and indicated that the Edomites had fired a flurry of missiles back at him. The pilots did what they could to take evasive maneuvers but for his flight it was too late.

Wulf felt a huge jolt and heard an explosion as a missile struck his aircraft. Over the radio was confusion, others yelling that they had been hit, the other flights calling out their firing codes as they swept into engage. Wulf seemed to gain control for a bit and announced that he was going to try to limp it back to Neue Regensbug, when a fire broke out and smoke filled his cockpit. He could breath thanks to his oxygen mask, but he knew there was no way to get the plane home, he tried to slow it down a bit, and level off before he made the move to eject, but his fear won and he decided to punch out.

The canopy exploded off, and Wulf was jerked hard as the rockets engaged and threw his seat into the wind. His face burned against the sudden blast of cold air catching him as a few hundred miles per hour and then again, the shock of his parachute halting his forward momentum. The pain was all too much for him at this and he blacked out.

Wulf awoke on the ground dazed and confused. He was restrained by something, and then remembered that he was in a parachute harness. He moved to get out and a jolt of pain shot through his back. He winched and just lay there, hoping he could just fall a sleep and wake up in his own bed. He reached up to his shoulder and set off his electronic beacon, hoping that at least someone would come to try and pick him up.

The lead Tornado pilot over Damoclea, Major Albert Liebermann listened with interest over the radio as the fighters battled it out. It seemed to be a fierce clash and many of the friendly planes took hits. He worried about this, but took solace in the fact that they still had a flight of F-16s following them. Soon after the start, the battle seemed to end. Most of the F-15s had been damaged or lost, but those that were untouched announced that they would fall in and escort the wave of F-111 that followed them. The Edomites had been run off.

Now Albert focused on his mission as the forty tornados approached their targets along the border. As the lead Albert targeted the military chapel on the base that he was approaching and focused with tunnel vision. He dropped low and released his load of 500-pound bombs, that had been fitted with high drag tail fins to slow down their descent. His released marked the point where the following planes would also release as they approached in formation, to try and gain a large area of damage over the base.

Southern Sea

The fighters had managed to gain superiority over the Edomites and devastate their fighter escort. The attack planes that were with them decided to retreat marking a target that the fighters could not resist. Here they were a large group of F-16s and F-15s still healthy with slow moving SU-25s turning to run. The pilots grew excited and still with some fuel they turned to pursue the retreating aircraft who were incapable of even reaching supersonic speeds. They hit the gas and fired off a barrage of missiles at the Edomite attack planes as the retreated back to their own coast.

Lieutenant Colonel Otto von Hönigberg saw Calafia, and began slowing down his squadron for their bombing run. Each of the F-111s carried twenty-four 500-pound bombs for this attack on the city. The Tornados carried a bit less, but the attack would still put 1,260 bombs onto the Edomite city. Otto’s wing flew over the city center, he had one building that he was to get into his sights for the lead attack and that was the big Cathedral and the central square of Calafia. The F-111 squadrons were scheduled to hit first then to climb to their max altitude and speed as fast as they could back home. The Tornadoes would come in last and try to hit smaller churches in the city before returning in a similar fashion.

The city came closer, and Wulf could see the waives lapping up on the beautiful beach below. He spotted the spire of his target. It was a beautiful building, too bad that the Edomites had chosen the path of war against his own holy kingdom and its allies. The barbarians would learn what it meant to make war on civilized people for a change, and not just on primitives. Otto’s computer told him that it was time to release, and his weapons officer let all of his bombs free.
This nation has been taken up by Vionna-Frankenlisch, who retains creative control. Most posts are presently made by Republica de Gran Chaco and Noviterra.For the old owner see Nachtmark.

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New Edom
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Postby New Edom » Sun Sep 29, 2019 8:21 pm

The Damoclean Front

Back at King James AFB, Colonel Perel was realizing to his great dismay that the enemy had launched their own attack at the same time, and with dry mouth and a sense of utter dismay he knew that the likelihood of success was dismal indeed. Lieutenant-Colonel Lachish made a valiant attempt to brush the enemy aside, charging into action with the teamwork that his boys were trained to do. The Su-25s had launched a barrage of R73s and immediately battered down nearly half the enemy incursion. There was a moment of hope, and several in the command and information center at the base began to cheer, but Perel had been in action and had led operations many times, and hushed them sharply. It was a near thing, very near…Perel sent orders that the MiG-21s should scramble. He feared that this was the first wave of the enemy invasion, much anticipated. Fortunately the planes were ready, the air crews on standby. But please God, let Lachish hold them. It was no longer a hope for the first strike, just to hold off on enemy attacks till they could defend their air border. He also gave orders that General Hamilcar should be informed.

Listening, the signals began to cloud the faces of the airmen in the CIC. One after another plane was damaged, some silenced forever. Out of 12, seven were limping home. Lachsish reported that he was inbound with a damaged fighter. “We have held,” he reported over the secured signal network. “We drove them off, me and my boys. My beautiful girl is a rattletrap now. Take good care of her when I get home.”

Perel felt his throat was very tight but he cleared his throat and said, “Amen, Colonel. See you on the ground.”

A report came forth that enemy fighters had crossed the frontier. Launches were detected at the border town of Heraclea by the AWACS, but little could be done. Perel winced. Little indeed.

The Chapel

In Heraclea, Church on Sundays was virtually compulsory, as it was throughout the Holy Empire. It was a family affair, often, though for many Damocleans with their weird and tortured pasts, family had become their professional associations, military units, schools and the like, run by stern Edomites who saw them as erring children. There was a definite caste to Heraclean society. On the top were Edomite officials and military personnel, and along with them visiting Imperium persons of similar quality. Then all Damocleans. So in the Military Chapel, which had once been a pagan-Marxist temple, a high domed building with new looking stained glass and statuary of saints and angels, the Edomites stood at the front while Damocleans stood obediently behind. Most were naked save for those in military service, and their heads were slick with holy oil, their faces sooted with ashes. All together, they sang a hymn from the Book of Corinthians:

The trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and
We shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption and
This mortal must put on immortality.

Then there was a noise as though the heavens had opened, but it was far from holy. The first of what was to be a series of great crashes caused smoke and dust to explode throug the central sanctuary, and shrieks and cries of terror filled the air in place of the hymn.

Project Ares

It took nearly ten minutes to reset the charge, with a wary but braves team led by Major Mescach, a combat engineer who was quite experienced. He was one of those folk who loved pitting his skills against great danger. For the Lord guided his hands and eye, and he had to set a good example for the other techs and engineers. Temperature, stress and pressure measurements were good. Meschach ordered his disposal team to remove the shell for examination, and ordered another load up. The trucks moved with brisk efficiency. The crane reached down and the men broke into song to keep their spirits up: Blessed be the Lord my God, who teaches my hands to war, and my fingers to fight...the shell moved up with hydraulic powered arms into the breach, and further machines closed it like a giant's door.

Back in the CIC General Eldad's chest expanded with a deep breath, and glanced at the GSO Operations. "Ready?"

"Ready, sir." replied the GSOO.

It didn't quite sound so amazing now. "You may fire when ready."

Moments later, the very earth and sky shook with a terrific BOOM. it was even felt as a tremor iin the CIC. The giant shell went like a bolt from the Heavens towards the frontier towards its target...and missed it by 4 klicks.

In the CIC, the men aand women burst into applause and cheers.

"Silence!" roared General Eldad. "Did we hit anything?"

The Strait

The enemy had the initiative. Three planes were ripped apart in the first seconds by enemy AIM missiles, another damaged, and they were in a desperate battle. Pabadakis, however, had a cold mind at that moment, keen only on the hunt and smashing them back. He noted to his satisfaction that the bombers dropped back with the AWACS and retreated. Well..satisfaction and frustration. He rolled his aircraft inverted, pulled back on the throttle and extended the speed brakes. He dropped the nose and let his speed bleed off until he was just a bit above cruise speed then added power as he retracted the brakes and rolled back upright. He set up for the gun camera and double checked his cannon on READY. He and his wingman and got a line up on an enemy fighter and squeezed the trigger again. He dropped lower and eased in behind the flight leader's wingman. After he got film of the flight leaders wingman then moved over and took the shot at the lead plane it snapped off to the right in a tight turn. His escorts had taken a hard beating. Proximity alarms were going off in his cockpit, and in spite of engaging chaff and flares, damage alerts were sounding. He could have spit. The enemy had stolen a flight on them. He and his wingman were among four survivors, and then dropped and fled. The bombers would have to look to themselves, but he could see that they had punched it, moving at their maximum speed and fleeing for Wenceslas. The mission had failed.

Damoclean Front: Ground Operations

Major-General Count Matthias Kirjath had sent orders to Major Gedor. It advised that the ARES gun had failed to strike its target directly, and that the Air Force was taking a beating. Nevertheless, he was to provide support for the advancing two regiments of infantry: the Damoclean Mountain Infantry and the 10th Fusiliers. The 24th Lancers were on standby. Men were mounting their vehicles at orders, and preparing to advance to cross the frontier. The only advantage left was the enemy’s hasty ground deployment and the chaos they had sown themselves.

The new mission was to advance to the frontier and raid, destroying enemy transport and infrastructure, to force any advance to be funneled down a road of New Edom’s choosing. Major Gedor peered up at the sky as his officers were gathering, and he could see contrails and streaks in the air, and he wondered how it was with the pilots. No time to think of that. The unit was at the FOB, and they could see, moving along the road, land rovers and trucks full of the Mountain Infantry’s First Battalion advancing up the road.

“Gentlemen,” said Gedor, turning to his officers, “I’m afraid that therre have been a few new developments…”

Air raid sirens began going off.

“Stand to!” shouted Gedor. “Find some cover!”

The officers and the men beyond them ran for the air defense trenches like bugs fleeing a flashlight as a great formation of enemy fighters swarmed over the base. The alarms screamed. There was a shattering of building frames and windows as buildings, seemingly at random, began to explode from the bombs.

The vehicles that were already loaded up with Mountain Infantry began to move down the road, in the meantime, their officers directing the vehicles to move off road to ditches or brush cover. Those men who were still mounting up scattered and ran for cover in terror.

From the Hussars weapons company and the ADA attached , however, orders came to prepare the units to counteratttack. The SAM battery, which had previously been alerted, opened up with three Klub missiles shortly after the attack, using targeting information from the battlespace provided by the AWACS. The Shilka ADA vehicles in their defensive ditches opened fire with their gatling guns, casings raining down.

Major Gedor, in the nearest slit trench, hauled his RTO to him by his shoulders, and yelled, “Weapons! Get MANPADS on the line!” He slapped the terrified young Hussar hard across the face. “Corporal!”

“H..yes your Honour!” whimpered the young man, and got on the horn to the Weapons Company…


The first enemy plane rocketed over the beach. The village behind the beach had many holiday villas as well as holiday apartments. Whilst it was the height of the season this did not mean all were occupied all of the time; sometimes there were a few days between rentals; other villas are not rented but owned as holiday homes and the owners are not always there. Mostly these were owned by aristocrats who were absentee landlords. For some it was a very good source of income, for others merely one of many sources. They varied in appearance, some new built: some renovations of old buildings. From many came the sounds of splashing in the swimming pools or there was obvious signs of occupation whether clothes drying on a balcony or a car obviously parked outside.

The air raid warnings had just started going off, and so wide eyed, pale people were looking up. Only occasionally aware of yet another crisis, tourists of Calafia had been enjoying the brightness of the blue sky, the gentle and very inviting blue of the sea and enjoying the glowing heat of the day. This particular beach was occupied by families with children running about, and people were panicking.

Meanwhile, over the rest of the city, many families and individuals were still in church. Hymn singing, preaching and teaching, and picnics planned for afterwards. The Ethnarch of the City, in his own church time at the Cathedral of Saint Joseph, heard the sirens starting up and looked at his wife, and said, “My God… it’s started.”

Defense of Peregrino

General Samuel Hod, the Governor of Peregrino, was extremely ill. He had a terrible case of penumonia received when he had not had time to dry off properly after bathing in the sea for the benefits of the salt water on the Noviteran side during the negotiations. Now he was virtually bedridden, coughing terribly, and often having to write notes to his officers. The shame of being an invalid preyed on him, but he held it at bay as he lay in the bed that had been moved into a room in the command bunker.

There was so little strength in him. His lungs felt filled with thick fluid. He managed, between notes, whispers to his ADC, and through nods and grunts to convey what he desired. He refused to turn over command, but gave greater leeway to his second in command, Major-General Adrian “Sunny” Fabian, no relation to the arms dealer save perhaps by ancient lineage.

The regiments of foot all had their duties clearly laid out according to the plan, Paragon Red, for the defense of Peregrino. Be prepared to rush in from concealed defended positions to defend likely landing sites. This tactic, borrowed from the defenses of Lyscania and Lazodiria, involved sponge tactics which they would use to not only embed the countryside but also to hide within entrenched positions disguised as farmhouses, light woods and other normal looking areas. The 104th Fusiliers had the duty primarily of providing ground defense for the SAM batteries of the Coastal Defense Battalion assigned to the island.

Because they had adequate warning, all Coast Guard and Naval vessels were at the ready, and by now all of the Interceptor Squadron were at the ready or up in the air. The submarines, however, were a ways off.

In general, there was a deal of bitterness towards the enemy alliance. They had pretended that they were merely concerned with McNernia when the reality was that they wanted to attack the Edomite Empire. Hod had known it would come a long time.

One thing he ordered the Ministry of Police officials under his command to do, therefore, was arrest all suspicious persons immediately. No sense in taking a chance with saboteurs, spies and enemy agents. After he gave the last orders, his head sand exhaustedly to his pillow. “Thank you, gentlemen,” he said to his staff. “Long live the King-Emperor and long live the Queen Empress. New Edom forever.”

“New Edom forever!” the senior officers echoed, coming to attention and saluting him.

He closed his eyes.
Last edited by New Edom on Sun Oct 06, 2019 6:05 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Cossack Khanate
Posts: 617
Founded: May 09, 2017
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Cossack Khanate » Mon Sep 30, 2019 4:48 pm

The Holy Decreeist Empire of Cossack Khanate
We don’t use NS Stats, to do so would be ridiculous. You also can’t check my factbooks...because they are in Google Docs. Tee hee
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Neue Regensburg
Posts: 213
Founded: Jan 19, 2019
Tyranny by Majority

Postby Neue Regensburg » Tue Oct 01, 2019 1:03 am

Damoclean Frontier
Neue Regensburg

The fat mayor of Hymenberg had come out wearing his ceremonial lederhosen. He let loose a mighty toot on the alpenhorn and the crowd that had gathered in front of town hall cheered. Some big announcement was to take place and that town was excited to hear what it was. Long had the people of Hymenberg lived under the shadow of Damoclea. Long had they lived in fear of raiders gang raping their people. There once was a time where they had to hide their kids, hide their wives, and hide their husbands because the Damocleans were raping everybody out there. Now sweet vengeance seemed to be near. The town had seen their brave pilots flying off towards the border, there must be some grand news about that.

The mayor walked over to the podium and made sure the mike was working, “My dear ladies and gentlemen! I have the most wonderful news to announce, that was passed to me by the ever-vigilant General Max von Luger! Today many of you have noticed that some of our jets have headed towards the border, well indeed your suspicions are true. Our brave boys have headed out to gain revenge on the Edomites not only in Damoclea, but also on their own home soil! To long have those heathen barbarians put the press on good subjects of Neue Regensburg, but today we will show them that we are not primitive natives for them to waltz over!”

The mayor walked over and began blowing on the alpenhorn but then stopped and listened. He could swear it sounded like a freight train was flying through the air. The crowd paused and all pondered this as the sound grew louder.

The bus was almost to its destination, and was now making its way through the narrow streets of the small mountain town that the base where they were to establish themselves sat. The regular regiments that were usually stationed there had already gone out to take up their defensive positions overlooking the pass near the border, and now the base was a bustle of incoming units trying their best to organize before going being sent to combat duty themselves. Prince Peter sighed, the bus ride had been miserable. Katya had remained in a seat with other officers and had fallen asleep. Peter looked forward to arriving and showing off his natural leadership skills to Katya now that she would have a fresh mind.

They were getting near the base now and most on the bus were shaking their sleeping neighbors. Peter could see Staff Sergeant Thunderköch still asleep with a pair of expensive noise cancelling headphones on. He hoped that he would not wake in time so he could chastise the recon NCO about responsibility. Peter relished the thought of getting back at that impudent enlisted man when all of a sudden, he lost his senses. A massive explosion rocked the bus, blowing out all of its window and tipped the vehicle on its side with a crash.

People were thrown from their seats and knocked into each other. Baggage was knocked loose and flying everywhere. For Peter everything went dark. He came around when he felt strong hands lift him up from the broken glass that he was lying on. He could not see due to the smoke that was filling the vehicle. Whoever had picked him up carried him out of the wreckage and brought him to the side of the street. Peter sat up and looked around. The windows had been broken on all of the buildings up the whole block. Peter faintly heard through his ears ringing, that the town hall and the crowd that had gathered had been obliterated, and all that remained was a 50-foot-wide crater and broken buildings all around.

Peter put that out of his mind when he heard the beautiful voice of Katya calling to him and soon he felt her arms wrapped around her neck and could smell her hair.

“Oh Peter, I thought you had died.” Katya said, and then let him go.

“Thank you so much for saving him.” She said to some unknown person, Peters rescuer.

He turned from were he was sitting to look at his rescuer. Peters jaw dropped and then he clenched his teeth. Katya was grasped onto Staff Sergeant Chad Thunderköch’s arm and leaning her head on his shoulder, “Thank you so much Chad. Peter is such a good friend. Thanks for saving him.”

Chad grinned looking down on Peter and said, “Anything for my prince, I could not let the kingdom down.”
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Neue Regensburg
Posts: 213
Founded: Jan 19, 2019
Tyranny by Majority

Postby Neue Regensburg » Wed Oct 02, 2019 9:05 pm

District 1

Amid criticisms from high command of interrupting the flow of supplies and soldiers as well as the incompetence Bundelball had to deal with, he was finally getting it done. Fuel, munitions and personnel had been moved to the proper staging areas. At last, the crews had been loaded onto the ships and they left port.

Major Chestengroper marched down the formations of F-111s being fueled and fitted with their bombs. He would be leading a squadron 12 bombers himself that would go straight at the enemy in the first wave. A chill went down his spine as he thought about what this meant. There were many in Bundelball’s command who felt him unworthy of leadership due to his lack of pedigree. It was very likely Bundelball himself had chosen to send him in the first wave in hopes of getting him shot down. But if he could prevail anyways, command would have to recognize the divine providence of his success. Smiling, he looked over his F-111 while smoking a cigarillo. Letting it hang from his mouth, he climbed into the cockpit with a clipboard and started doing checks to the systems. Flipping through the clipboard's papers, he came to a picture of some model he was infatuated with. She had dark brown hair, large eyes and perky breasts. Looking around subtly, he saw that everyone else was busy at their planes. A hand slipped down his pants.

In other areas Vice-Admiral Sleimehol had boarded his flagship, the missile cruiser Fenris.Bundelball insisted that the strength of his old Prussian blood was needed to command the naval operations personally. He had been flown in and the Fenris was the last to leave port. It fell into formation with the other ships of the Bundesmarine.

The five attack submarines had been sent forth to spearhead the offensive. They would hunt down any Edomite submarines in the water. As for their surface fleet, Sleimehol had organized it into four formations.

First were two missile cruisers, the ones that would unload their arsenals of cruise missiles at the right moment to coincide with the Luftheer attack. Since it was likely they were to be detected after that, Sleimehol made sure they were separated to not compromise the location of the rest of the fleet. Not only that, they would serve a double roll as the bait to locate New Edom’s own ships that would counterattack. Nevertheless, ships were not things to dispense with casually so there were orders to go dark after firing.

His own formation included the Fenris, one light cruiser, 2 destroyers and 2 frigates making up the second formation. Another, commanded by Rear-Admiral Krammenbutte with the same make up to be the third. Finally, all five of the Navy’s corvettes had been sent forward as the skirmish line.

The area of operation was not a large one as far as he could tell but the fleet spread out enough where locating one formation would not compromise the others and serve to draw out the positions of the enemy should they attack one. It was a shame however. If only he had AWACs as well. Sleimehol had requested the defense bureau invest in them. Perhaps after this war they would listen.

Sleimehol sat upon a high chair in the CIC, watching the men and women here on duty at their stations. At least he appeared to be watching them all. His true focus was on Lieutenant Freida Sauerkant. The blonde hair on her head was tied up beautifully and her uniform bit her physique perfectly. At one point, his own wife looked similar. Sleimehol resolved to go to confession the next chance he got. But not before leaning over her workstation at least once during this campaign and getting a whiff of Sauerkant’s luscious blonde locks.

He reached for the shipwide communicator. “Sailors of His Majesty’s Navy, the hour of destiny is almost upon. In six hours time, our ship and others part of this operation will come out of mcom. Missiles from our ships will strike targets in Peregrino with the intent to cripple their base. Our mission, sink all Edomite ships in the area of operation. Through God’s blessing, the vice of our Navy and Air Force will wrap around Peregrino and strangle it into submission. Join me now in saying the Our Father….”

The crew of the Fenris did so. Similar rituals were being performed on all the other ships of the fleet. “May Lord bless our beloved King. Grant us victory over our enemies so that the good people of our nation may flourish. Lord forgive us for the lives we are about to take in service to our country. God be with us all.” Sleimehol followed then closed the communicator.
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Neue Regensburg
Posts: 213
Founded: Jan 19, 2019
Tyranny by Majority

Postby Neue Regensburg » Wed Oct 02, 2019 9:09 pm

Damoclean Frontier
Neue Regensburg

Major Albert Liebermann, leading the first wave of Tornados to attack the base in Damoclea. He slowed to attack speed coming in pretty low leading the other planes to the base. Their weapons were armed and ready as they would come over a hill and see the Edomite positions. Now was the time. They popped up over the summit and were immediately met with the screams of alarms and warning lights in the cockpit. The Edomites were definitely on alert and it was apparent that Albert’s first wave was going to take the brunt of that as smoke trails from missiles began streaking up towards them.

Flares were deployed, but there wasn’t much they could do as they were determined to try and get their bombs dropped. Albert began his run when his plane was struck. He released his load and tried to turn for home. His plane was flying but his steering wasn’t answering properly. He gingerly did his best to make his homeward turn.

Outside his plane the world seemed to turn to chaos. Planes were struck by missile, or torn into by 30mm anti-aircraft shells. The tornado pilots forgot specific objectives and just began bombing onto any buildings they could on the base. Some where not able to release and crashed with their full load into the base causing massive fireballs. A few pilots declared that they were punching out, which was a horrible thought as the base was going to receive 3 more waves of bombers, and then how happy could those on the receiving end be towards their new guests.

Albert and his 4 surviving comerades from the first wave left the area, though he could not escape the feeling of dread as me pushed his crippled plane towards the border, his weapons officer encouraging him to get out of there.

Behind him the second wave started their attack with a bit more luck. They dropped their bombs and lost only eight out of the twenty aircraft in that wave. The logistics of follow up shots seemed to be affecting the Edomite defenses and the third wave took only three losses as the F-111s came in and unloaded their twenty-four bombs each, and thankfully the final wave was able to get off their entire load of ordinance and return home all safe.

No doubt the impact of around fifteen hundred bombs on the base had its effect on the defenders. The plan had been a bit sloppy, but the effect of a carpet bombing of the base surely would have been destructive. Albert felt a bit sorry for those crews that had to eject, and decided that he would light a candle for them in church the next time he went to mass.

Over Calafia

The destruction to the center of the city was great. Lieutenant Colonel Otto von Hönigberg had gotten out of the path as the next wave came in to hammer the city. From the height of where Otto was, he could see the little flashes popping all over Calafia following the planes that came in formation. The F-111 had dropped their bombs just as the first wave was climbing and increasing in speed to get back to the safety of Neue Regensburg.

Over the radio, Otto heard that the third wave had flown to close to an Edomite base and had taken some hits, but largely had made it through to drop their own bombs on the city. Otto broke the sound barrier and continued to gain speed and altitude as the bombers made their way home.

The B-1s were running back home, and the fighters that followed did their best to continue the pursuit. They made gains on the Edomite bombers and were in range when the order came to fire missiles and break off. The commander did not want them pursuing into New Edom. The fighters fired their payload and made their turns to head back to Neue Regensburg.
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New Edom
Postmaster of the Fleet
Posts: 22964
Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Thu Oct 03, 2019 1:22 am

Damoclean Frontier

With whooshes of smoke and fire, SAMs streaked into the air, taking the enemy fighters by surprise, and there was joy among the AA gunners. Explosions shattered the rushing enemy as the came over the craggy horizons to meet a phalanx of death. The next wave, clearly alerted, were more cautious, and were prepared with countermeasures and evasion. Fewer were hit. Warning was sent from Colonel Perel at King James AFB: more fighters were inbound.

"Where is our air cover?" Colonel Bartisa, the FOB commander, demanded as he crouched in a shaking bunker, glaring at his Air liaison officer.

"On their way, sir, but they were just starting to scramble a few minutes ago. A flight will be inbound in five minutes..."

A boom shook the bunker and dust rained down on them. "A flight? Devil take it, they will be mobbed like chickens on one bug!" The Colonel shouted.

He paused, he was receiving a further request for orders. Major Gedor was pinned down with his Hussars, but the Mountain Infantry and the Fusiliers were on the road, and no one appeared to be attacking them. Count Kirjath, on speaking with Colonel Bartisa, confirmed that they should continue to advance. "Be blessed under Christ Coonel."

Outside, sandbags, wood, bricks, plastic and metal whirled in clouds of destruction. In some cases, men screaming, howling, stunned to incoherence were swiftly swallowed up by Great gusts of dust and smoke. Fires began to spread. One of the supply Qonsets had collapsed, and men choked to death inside as air was sucked away.

Major Gedor realized that the AA had stopped firing, and saw that, in the gloom of the shadows of destruction, brace men in trucks delivering munitions were advancing, few ready with gas masks, many coughing into rags around faces. It hit him: he could not fight the planes, but he could help.

"Listen up, boys!" He shouted in the aftermath of another bomb striking and washing the area with debris from motor repair shop a hundred meters off. " Lets get those boys our gas masks! Help them reload! On me!" The men almost seemed relieved to have something good to do. He grimly igmpnired seeing some of his damaged vehicles smoking away. He dived his men int three teams, one to get gas masks to the AA, one to help wounded, one to get the remainder of his men moving towards the road...

And the first flight of MIG-21s hurtled forward, picking up on the alreadybdetected enemy, launching their R73s in a desperate attempt to protect the men on the ground.


Sirens were still going off in the city. But it was defenseless. Churches were being struck like it was Sofom, the accusing finger of Regensburg, not the Lord, striking down at them..The onlybdefenders were some troops and Municipal Militia, who had no AA worth the name. All they could fo was try to rush people to shelters. From above, there were figures swarming, tiny and terrified, like fleas on a burning mattress.

From the beach, appalled tourist and sin guilty church skippers stood, some naked, some in bathing suits, staring in some cases, others rushing to find places to hide, aghast, weeping, some praying, towels, bags, and beach toys forgotten in their hands.Yves and Angelique, a vacationing couple from Lazodiria, gasped and shook at each explosion. They remembered the nightmare of the Othmaan invasion, and terror shook them to the core. Mario, a Delvian businessman who had been planning a get together for clients, had jumped from his breakfast table and rushed to the window, which shook like jelly at the bombs striking the city again and again.

A cloud of death hung over over the city. Parks, banks, offices, a courtroom, shops and markets were all hit. Children were ripped from arms, lovers blown apart. The worst were the injured, the blinded, the maimed, the buried, the burning. Some witnessing fell to their knees and wept, praying. They had no idea what had happened...and what would happen next. A Militia Sub-Commandant began to radio for all units to report in. But he was grimly aware that many had been at chapel and might have been hit, for he did not know what had been targeted.

The four bombers took evasive action and launched countermeasures, chaff exploding out to distract enemy missiles, Gs straining the giant aircraft as they twisted at high speeds to avoid. Major Quercus, the flight commander, saw one of his flight crippled, and the plane was struggling. Over the radio he heard the pilot order that it should be abandoned. The Interceptors were still too far off, no one had anticipated this overwhelming attack by the enemy. As this was happening, another plane, piloted by his friend, Major Chitos, was ripped apart as it first was struck under a wing, as as its evasive turn failed, was hit in the bomb bay, ripped and gutted, then falling wreckage. A third struck near a wing, going downn, dropping, towards an emergency landing at Calafia National Airport, parts of which were now in ruins. Might have to ditch as well.

Quercus and his crew, meanwhile, were straining his bird to the limits in an upward rush and turn, timing the countermeasures, and proximity warnings were going crazy. But he could do it. He was one of God's warriors of the sir, one of the best that eve was. Above the clouds, so high up nothing that breathed could live without a breathing tank and warm clothing, and many had fallen at his left and st his right, but none of the enemy's shafts had come nigh to him.

He clenched his fist, and forced himself to order them to continue their retreat. Not a shot fired. Not a thing accomplished. Woe and seal. Smoke hung in the air like shrouds over Calafia. Failure tasted like gall in his mouth.

"God have mercy," His co-pilot said.

"God have mercy," he echoed. " For the enemy has had none."
Last edited by New Edom on Thu Oct 03, 2019 9:48 pm, edited 9 times in total.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

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New Edom
Postmaster of the Fleet
Posts: 22964
Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Thu Oct 03, 2019 1:26 pm

Peregrino EEZ

Rear-Admiral Hiram Tophek would not describe himself as the clever brother in his family. There were four, and one was a gentleman farmer holding the 200 acre family estate, the other was a bureaucrat working for the Ministry of Transport, and of course the second eldest was the celebrated Ambassador to Kamohaeng Phet. A traveler, geographer, linguist, author of books on culture, diplomat, he hated his posting, describing it as a rotten, heathen hell. Hiram did not believe him. His brother was an intellectual and found fault in everything, but clearly loved the place. Had he not accepted a reposting? Had he not married into its royal family? Even now traveling home to show off his child bride? Surely he loved the girl, for he had hastened to marry her in spite of her age, the need to wait to consummate, and the barriers of culture and language. He, Hiram, had merely married a suitable country girl of good family, who had borne him five children, and he had survived the civil wars and purges and become more of a specialist than a wise man, one of New Edom’s premier sub mariners. He had attended foreign sub mariner schools, studied extensively, toured as a guest on foreign exercises with the Imperium’s submarine fleet. He was not the clever brother, but he believed his professional skill was sufficient for him to do his best to defend Peregrino.

The four submarines were almost certain to be outnumbered. Therefore he would need great patience and care in using them. Every torpedo or missile would have to count. The four would spread out to cover a range protecting directional approaches to the island out to 150 km of the coast, each within 40 km of the other. They would run as silent as possible once in position, moving at only 3 knots. Sonar and radio buoys were already up. The enemy might run radio and radar silent on their approach, but would not be able to conceal the sound of their structures against the water, the noise of shafts and most particularly the larger vessels.

Only when they were likely to see something would they slowly, soft as emerging turtles, rise to periscope depth. Check radar, but only for 3 seconds, slide down quiet, and follow a racetrack like course of about 8 klicks, repeating occasionally.

Of course, the danger was not merely enemy ASW aircraft, towed arrays and the suites on the enemy surface fleet, it was also that enemy submarines would be hunting them. Two P-3 Orions were to begin dropping more sonar buoys soon after enemy radar movement was detected by the fixed radar array.

Within the subs’ circle, the six corvettes would be parallel, about 200 km in towards the island, similarly spread out. At the first sign of enemy sonar activity, they were to launch their KA-50 helicopters and starting hunting submarines. While they did this, the corvettes were to be ready with anti air and anti ship missiles and ASW torpedoes. The ships were small, but tough. The captains were all young men and one women, keen as mustard. But this was mixed with apprehension. No one had anticipated so many enemies at once stretching them so thin, They had not expected to have to fight this battle alone, a few corvettes and subs against the stronger Regensburg Fleet. It was not the largest fleet in the Region, but at present, it was a Goliath. Knowing, however, that the Admiral would share their danger heartened them. With a small staff, he boarded the Esther in San Marco, greeted Lieutenant-Commander Holveg. Holveg, an Anglo-German officer, was truly proud and glad at the demonstration of recognition of his loyalty at a time when German names were hardly popular.

The patrol craft, meanwhile could play little role in the coming battle other than search and rescue and support. They only had heavy weapons aboard as well as regular sonar and radar similar to many standard Coast Guard vessels.

Admiral Tophek was yearning to be aboard one of the subs, but reluctantly recognized the limitations placed on his communications if he did. Nevertheless, he was also reluctant to take no risks, and he frankly enjoyed the vessel getting underway, the waves briskly chopping at the deck. Fishing boats and commercial shipping, which were either moving to safer berths or farther out to sea, dipped their flags as they passed and moved steadily out from the harbour to open waters. Wind ruffled at the pennies, and in spite of all that challenged him, in spite of not being the clever brother, he felt blessed indeed.

Air Operations

A report had come from General Foliot at Wenceslas AFB: there was no aid at this time that the Air Force could send. Not a single MIG-29 was operational, the MIG-21 squadron was tasked to Defense of the base, and the Su-27 Squadron was in the east, patrolling near the Teman border in case of a Deadorans incursion. Even the bomber squadron had been shattered by the enemy surprise attack.

A squadron of MIG-21s was patrolling the island perimeter. Currently, 4 were up at a time, two at each end, relying on the fixed array and the Super Heron UAVs and the Navy to inform them. The fixed array was hidden in the hills, on a small secure base guarded by 4 SAM vehicles and a company of troops from the 104th Fusiliers. The four Super Herons were flying out to sea, radars active. Colonel Ferrovius, the base commander at Kiron AFB, had 8 SAM vehicles defending it, spread around, commanding the approaches. Two of these were Klub missile launchers disguised as 10 ton trucks. Ferrovius, according to Paragon Red’s doctrine, had designated the airfields to the north at Port Saint Victor and the airport at San Marco as backup landing areas, and had moved enough munitions and fuel that each plane could refuel at least once and replenish ammo. Paragon Red’s planners had recommended that in the event of Peregrino’s isolation, the air base would probably be the target of an overwhelming enemy attack.

Colonel Ferrovius and General Hod each loved Peregrino, though they were not born there. They had served under Geta while he was Governor, and had been advisors in forming Paragon Red. Ferrovius and Hod were ETC by background, marched in Blue and White paint, naked, during the island’s religious festivals, frequently sacrificed personal goods for the poor or to shriving bonfires. Ferrovius had proposed that the enemy would target the base and the airport along with the Navy first. The MIG squadron, at first indication of enemy movement, was to get airborne, then run silent, hide, and strike as targets of opportunity revealed themselves by targeting the ground and Naval targets.

Ground Operations

Two companies of the 104th Fusiliers would be in bunkers and ambush positions, ready to defend the SAMs defending the base. These were motorized Infantry with armoured Recon vehicles and lightly armoured transports to move distances with, but they were also hard bodied and tough professionals, originally the 3rd congressional Free Legion during the First Civil War. Men and women still living and in command or in ranks were in the unit, who had fought at Harbourtown fought against the Elle rebellion and in the 3rd Civil War. The senior NCO of the companies defending the approaches to the base, Abner Dale, was a First Sergeant, and he advised Lieutenant-Colonel Peter Benajah to have ammunition, fuel, batteries, med supplies ready to move by armoured trucks and hidden in caches in case either the main army base or the Air Force base fell. Benajah had recently returned from a staff job with General Romain acting as GSOQ and readily agreed.

Benajah, son of the General commanding Edomite forces in Raith Immel Province, had recently served in Gavinium Magnus. He had once courted the disgraced lady in waiting Vountess Lavinia Nabal, and had nearly been purged for it. Then he had been under a. cloud for he and his father’s part in the 3rd Civil War, but his modest dutifulness during the Gavinian War had cleansed his record. His father had managed to arrange a betrothal to the daughter of General Adam Merari, the commander of Fineburg Military District, indicating reconciliation withheld Monarchists.

He bore the responsibility for two other companies of Fusiliers, as well as the artillery battery and engineer company. These were in ambush positions guarding the road from San Marco to Kiron AFB. San Marco Army base, with its helicopter airfield, training areas, and parade ground, would also make a decent target. There were barracks, a machine shop, supplies of food, equipment and ammunition, headquarters, a field hospital, training areas. The Military Police company had formed roadblocks and secured areas, and signals, quartermaster, and transport troops had the duty of moving out convoys of supplies if the base should be threatened. Combat engineers were to destroy key base rlrmts such as document storage, airfield facilities and munitions if the base could not be held. One company's worth of base troops, mostly the most fit and small arms trained, were issued rifles and grenades.

The second battalion was under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Reshef, battle scarred, partly paralyzed in one hand, who had commanded the Monarchist withdrawal from Fineburg during the Second Civil War. He was a Haranese, deeply loyal to Princess Jocasta and to General Unwerth, but was no sycophant or courtier. His role was to defend approaches to Port Saint Victor , the town at the northern tip of the island, for there was a small port and airfield there. The town itself only had about 14,000 fishermen cannery workers and suppliers of other services there, but the airfield was certainly capable of taking on a medium transport, and the port itself could bring in decent sized ships to the relatively calm bay. Accordingly, his four companies were set up in ambushes around it in a rough horseshoe, most of their ready resupply hidden in caches or concealed transport vehicles.

Invested in the countryside were the two ETC light infantry regiments, the Paraclete Regiment focused on supporting the 2-104th Fusiliers, and the Holy across Regiment which would support the 1-104th. Colonels Saint Simon and Damiano, respectively, were also veteran soldiers, as were many of their men and women..

Each regiment was made up of about 2,000 men divided into roughly eight companies of infantry and a weapons company. The troops were armed with battle rifles, machineguns, single shot M79 grenade launchers, and heavy caliber pistols. They were nearly all powerful men, capable of marching many miles with heavy packs and going up and down hills and through forests wearing only combat webbing, helmets and thick sandals. They had light mortars and RPG-16s by company. Then there was a weapons company with 75mm “Pack” howitzers, 120 mm mortars and heavy machine guns as well as a MANPADS platoon.

The 4-500 support troops—cooks, medics, clerks, mechanics, armourers—were all women. Because there was a smaller number, by special dispensation the Most Holy Elder Brothers of each regiment permitted a special rite by which these women were married to their regiments, and would forsake all other men with no stain upon their character. Women who had served could proudly show swollen bellies if they bore children of the regiment, who were directly adopted by the End Times Church. Generally, they regularly slept rough when on exercises, foraging, prepared to recover their casings and reload powder and bullets. They butchered animals, performed regular disaster relief for annual floods, assisted in harvests, local search and rescue, and other local civil support that bound them tightly to the community.

These soldiers had some light trucks and land rivers, but mostly marched. They could certainly March though. As they moved along the roads towards their ambush and scout positions, flanking and covering their Fusilier brothers, they sang that popular ETC hymn, “ Am I a soldier of the Cross?” with gladness in their hearts. For what was better than to live and die in devotion.
Last edited by New Edom on Thu Oct 03, 2019 1:44 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Corporate Police State

Postby Arbites » Thu Oct 03, 2019 4:37 pm

To: Foreign Minister Hosidius Geta
From: Cardinal Jonathan Graham
Subject: War
Encryption: Highest

Your Excellency,

Know that the Imperium stands with New Edom. New Edom’s enemies have knowingly challenged the authority of the King-Emperor and conspired to surround your empire on all sides. These designs will come to naught. By God’s will we shall prevail.

In the immediate term, Imperial port facilities will be open to Edomite naval vessels in need of resupply. We are presently best positioned to support New Edom in Damoclea and the eastern Tempesta. Naval forces under Admiral Rothbard are currently underway near East Klamath, which can be refueled and rearmed for combat operations within two days’ time.

Active Damoclean auxiliary forces can be mobilized in roughly one week, with reserves in one month. Expeditionary forces from the Imperium proper are possible but will have to allow for planning and organization of transport.

May the Emperor watch over us all.

I have the honor to be
Cardinal Graham
He who stands with me shall be my brother

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Neue Regensburg
Posts: 213
Founded: Jan 19, 2019
Tyranny by Majority

Postby Neue Regensburg » Sat Oct 05, 2019 1:49 am

Damoclean Frontier
Neue Regensburg

The officers of the advance party for the regiment gathered inside of a basement in case another of those Edomite horror weapons went off. The base defenses were still trying to figure out exactly what had happened and the advanced team was discussing plans to move straight into the hills and to prepare some positions for the rest of the 1st Mechanized Regiment when they arrived in full.

The regimental XO had decided on a spot that was behind the main line of defense and would be an important area that could cover the front-line peaks across the pass from them. Peter stood near Katya and listened to the higher officers discuss their plans to move away from the town that was apparently in the crosshairs of some kind of Edomite death machine. He thought hard about something intelligent to say that would show the higher ups that he was a quality combat officer. When they were discussing the specific areas on these ridges for the regiment to occupy Peter interrupted, “Sandbags sir!”

The XO looked up, his concentration broken and asked confused, “What?”

“We should bring sandbags and excavation equipment to build bunkers.” Peter said proudly.

The Executive officer looked at him and slowly took off his glasses, “Lieutenant, don’t interrupt me again. Bunkers are standard operating procedure I think my 17 years in the Army has taught me that bunkers are good cover.”

He put his glasses on again and resumed discussing the map. Peter turned red faced and then his embarrassment turned to hatred when the door opened and Staff Sergeant Chadwick Thunderköch entered, clicking his heels and standing ramrod straight. The XO looked up and said, “Yes?”

“Sir it has come to my attention that the Mountaineers are sending some regiments forward to try and occupy peaks across the Damoclean border before the Edomites set up there. Permission to bring a reconnaissance squad along with the Mountaineers to assess the forward permissions and to find out what exactly the Edomites have beyond the border.” Thunderköch said.

Peter could not take this nonsense, “Sergeant you dare interrupt the Lieutenant Colonel for some vain and foolish undertaking?”

The Major who was the intelligence officer glared at Peter, “Lieutenant you forget yourself! The sergeant is my man, and the reconnaissance platoon is part of my section! Once your company commander arrives, I will be having words with him. Until then I want you to leave, as you are not needed for regimental planning. Go and organize a detail of civilians to clean rubble from the street.”

Peter fumed but kept tongue turning only to Katya, “Come Katya.”

The XO stopped Peter and said firmly, “This task was given to you Lieutenant, not to Lieutenant Katya.”

Peter forced out a, “Yes sir.” and left humiliated. He would be doing so well now that he was in a command position in a combat zone if it wasn’t for that damned Chad Thunderköch!

Peter walked outside and paced back and forth looking at civilians that were already out cleaning the streets on their own accords. He thought about what he could do to get over this situation. It would be better when the regiment arrived and he was back with his platoon. His thought was broken when he saw Staff Sergeant Thunderköch come out and yell to his squad, “Mission is approved!”

The Recon boys began putting their oak pattern smocks over their green gray uniforms. They had put chicken wire on their helmets and had put foliage in side the wire to break out their outlines. The men picked up their G3 Rifles, and the HK 21 machine gun and piled into a Mercedes G550 and sped off.

Peter clenched his fist at the arrogant enlisted man. One day luck would turn for that damned Chad.

More warnings went off in the cockpit of the returning F-111s of the last wave. They hastened to get across the border as enemy missiles were fired. They began firing flares and attempting to take countermeasures as the remains of the fighter escort that zoomed in to engage the enemy Migs to give the retreating bombers a better chance to make it across the border.

The mix of F-16s and F-15s selected their own targets and fired off sidewinders at the Edomite MiGs that were in pursuit


All of the bomber and attack aircraft had finished and left the city of Calafia in smoke. They sped off towards home in high spirits meeting up with the fighters that had attacked the Edomite bombers. Every plane that had not been shot down sped back towards the Neue Regensburg coast in high spirits at the success of their attack. Surely God himself had granted their victory against the barbarian heretics.
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Neue Regensburg
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Founded: Jan 19, 2019
Tyranny by Majority

Postby Neue Regensburg » Sat Oct 05, 2019 5:16 pm


RRS Princess Sigrid

Attack submarines were coveted postings in Bundelball’s Navy among the officer’s of lower status. Not necessarily because they were desirable duties. Simply, postings on the surface fleet and air force tended to go to the favored noble elite. Here, an officer’s merits weighed more in promotion and that was exactly the opportunity Kommander Skroetumteichler leapt upon. His father had been a mid-level government bureaucrat in the Ministry of Treasury who received the position because his grandfather was aide-de-camp to a noble. That was hardly pedigree worth bragging about. Skroetumteichler had no ancestors in the Prussian regiments nor any that held land. But by God, the dynasty was going to be built now.

Princess Sigrid was all alone. The five submarines had spread out to their designated sectors to patrol and running on ultra quiet. He would use the propulsion only when their coasting was too slow and had been traveling to his sector at one third.

“The hour of the assault is almost upon us.” Said Skroetumteichler to no one in particular in the conn.

They had yet to raise their periscopes even once. If they could get a positioning on Edom’s surface fleet, they would attack. But for the most part Admiral Sleimehol’s strategy was that of forcing the enemy to take a loss for every gain. They had not the detection capabilities of marine reconnaissance or sono-buoys. Instead, Sleimehol had spread out the Navy’s assets. The strategy was simply this, for New Edom to attack their naval or air assets, they would have to reveal the position of one of theirs and subject it to attack in return. Like in chess, it was a strategy of making sure pieces were covered by other pieces so that they cannot be killed without swift retaliation. That was their mission. To be that force lurking in the shadows waiting for the Edomite’s to show their faces. Princess Sigrid would listen for any torpedo tubes opening to attack their surface fleet.

Ansmolesen Air Base

Dozens upon dozens of planes here and in peripheral airfields were in taxing to the runways to take off. Their pilots galvanized by the Winkelkrotsch’s speech the fervor of patriotism. First were their fighters then their bombers. Major Chestengroper spoke over the comms to his squadron of 14 bombers. Several planes had been shifted over to the second wave as Winkelkrotsch did not want to expend their bombers on the first which was more meant as a distraction.

“God and King Peter gentlemen.” He said as he pushed on the thrust to take off. Shortly after, Chestengroper was in the air where he belonged. Instead of the naked tart he had pleasured himself to earlier, he had a picture of his beloved wife up among the various controls. She was not a comely woman but he would love and cherish her nevertheless. He kissed his two fingers then touched the picture, determined not to die with adultery on his mind.

The first wave consisted of 14 F-111s, 10 Tornados, 5 F-16s and 15 F-15s as escort. Each of the aircraft types had their own missions. Both the Torandos and F-16s were to conduct SEAD operations. Their task was to immediately fire their HARM air-to-ground missiles as soon as enemy air AA or Anti-Ship radar pinged from the ground. If possible, they were to hunt down the launchers themselves. The F-15s were to take on the Edomite interceptors instead while the fast F-111s were to race to their targets to bomb them. This would present them with a dilemma. Either they had to turn their backs on the Regensburger escorts to focus on the F-111s that were racing to destroy strategic targets, or face the escorts and while the bombers flew by. Either way, the Edomite Air Force would have to choose some balance between the two on the spot between what Winkelkrotsch figured were undesirable options.

As soon as they were in the air, there was a short period as the second wave began to take off as well. This one of the same composition but 26 F-111 bombers instead. If the first wave and missile attack was successful, this wave had the secondary objective of striking at land-based anti-ship batteries instead. The Navy would report on their positioning as they were fired upon and if they could, would go after them too.

Surface Fleet

Captain Schtinkthum commanded the formation of two cruisers whose duty it was to fire their payloads of missiles upon the Edomite Air Base. As part of the entire fleet’s positioning they were in the rear which would force the Edomites to go through their other naval assets to attack them. Both the two surface fleet formations had already moved ahead. Along with their corvettes and submarines that made up a sort of frontal skirmish line. Schtinkthum watched the clock as wound down. The timing of the launch had to be just right to coincide with the arrival of the first wave. Especially since launching so many missiles would likely blow their location. 70 of both ship’s Mk 41 launch cells had been stuffed with land attack tomahawks. Sleimehol wanted more but Bundelball felt it that would have drained their stockpiles too much.

There was a palpable tension on the CIC as everyone kept glancing at the clock. Schtinkthum broke the silence. “Arm launch tubes 20 to 55 and 87 to 122.” Schtinkthum said to break the silence. The weapons officer got to work. Sweat clearly dripping from his forehead. He had explained the plan already. Their payloads of cruise missiles had been divided evenly in the missile tubes on the stern and bow side of the ship. They would fire them two at a time in quick succession. One from the stern side and one from the bow side. That would prevent the possible damage to each other form the thrust. “Load target package.” He said.

The clock finally ticked down to the minute of destiny. “Tubes 20 and 87, fire.” Schtinkthum said. They were in the CIC but on the bridge their view was suddenly obstructed with smoke as the launch tube cover opened and the missile took off. “Tubes 21 and 88, fire.” He said shortly after. “22 and 89, fire!” and so this continued on both ships.

Air Attack

“Here we go gentlemen. Almost in range. Just focus on making it to your targets and loose those bombs.” Said Chestengroper. “Let the interceptors and ground attack craft do their jobs. One of us goes down, just keep going. There’s nothing we can do. Go for your targets.”

His own target was the fuel depot. They had no spy planes or satellites. Chestengroper simply had to study what they tended to look like. His own payload was a 1000lb bomb. But there were other types of targets and munitions. Some had cluster bombs to cause general destruction and bedlam. Others had Durandal runway cratering bombs. The cruise missiles were to strike at relatively the same time. If the missiles struck first, they were to quickly single out targets that had not been struck yet.

The F-15s and SEAD planes were ahead of them. As soon as they were pinged, they would go active on their own radars and the fight would commence.
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New Edom
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Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Sat Oct 05, 2019 6:44 pm

Damoclean Frontier: Air War

The Edomite pilots were flying older but well maintained craft, and were highly experienced at fighting in pairs, doing air oversight for one another, avoiding missile detection, and response to emergencies. They had skimmed the crags and tree line and gotten the jump on the enemy. But, in fact, while less combat experienced, the enemy pilots had done many military exercises and had superb planes. The fight that began was a grim one, of the fighters on both sides ducking and weaving until errors or initiative began to wreak destruction.

Major Crendric locked on an enemy fighter with an R73 and launched, but then an Eagle shot above him like a stooping bird that was its namesake and a sidewinder was on his tail. His wingman launched countermeasures in the path of the enemy attack to create a diversion. Crendric's small, slim craft darted free, but his wingman was no so lucky, another enemy plane launching a missile that initially he thought he had evaded exploding his plane, only to have heat warnings going off. He notified Rook, his wingman, that he could not match him. He tried to reestablish control, but was unable to, and was forced to eject, letting his plane crash against the side of a mountain. Among the few who made it home, Lieutenant Rachel Glaucon and Lieutenant Gabriel Damasceno tag teamed a Fighting Falcon hat had darted like a kingfisher, exposing itself to their radar, each launching an R73 with deadly intent.

When talking about their beloved Fishbeds, officers of the Damoclea based 7th Intercepter Squadron bragged that yes, enemy fighters might be able to carry more ordnance and electronic suites, as well as fuel, but their role as aggressive Defense required fast and light, like snipers of the air, they might not be lumbering cataphracts but they were sabre wielding Hussars of the skies. Furthermore, the late General Kiron, a favourite of the Queen-Dowager, had fought for funding for upgrades rather than scrapping them. Now, they were put, at last, to the test against those treacherous kraut sausage eaters. Three enemy planes were shot down Inc a brutal exchange, with three others managing to limp home. 5 planes destroyed, 4 limped one, 3 had to ditched.

"Yes!" crowed Glaucon as the enemy she had targeted was winged and spun away, badly damaged, but then found herself fleeing, launching flares and looping away. But an explosion under her wing. Gs pulled at her, like giant hands squashing her against the seat of the cockpit and she nearly passed ou, the sky spinning. She was awakened by a sharp tang she realized was her own piss. The plane was begging for action. She managed, pulling with all her strength, to right her Fishbed, and limped her home, almost sobbing with relief.

Crendric got his third clear kill of his flying career, the other two having having been other Edomites in the 3rd Civil War. This in many ways felt like his first. He was shocked, though, as they swooped above the mountain valley, missiles were firing rapidly, like a mad shootout in a tavern. His comrades falling back damaged, limping home or in one case ditching. He breathed out slowly. They had seen the enemy off...but at what a cost.

By this time, the Air Defense Artillery of Fort Hesperinus had reloaded, and Colonel Perel did his best to guide the interceptors to lead the enemy as close as possible to the defensive phalanx of SAMs that awaited them...but they did not come.

Lieutenant Damasceno was the only other pilot not hit at all with an undamaged plane. He had not hit aanything either in spite of his best effort. In a stunned daze, he turned and headed for King James AFB. In less than a minute his squadron had fought a decimation battle, winning a Pyrrhic victory. He almost felt shame for being untouched. Then he shook it off. He had succeeded because he was one of the best. Sure. No Pheasant. His wingman Quail was now along.

Nevertheless, he was going to look to see few squadron mates on the Tarmac. A lump filled his throat. He forced himself to focus. Major Crendric said over the radio, " Quail, this is Rook-4. Fall in behind me, complete circuit, then home."

Colonel Perel had his own squadron of bombers and Su-27s in reserve, but as with other parts of the Empire, they had been experiencing a good deal of repair needs. Earlier diplomatic efforts with Regensburg and virtual sycophancy, as well as the dubious quality of Regensburg's high command, had resulted in neglect in favour of other Air Divisions. Perel had four Su-27s to protect King James AFB. While his Operations officer dealt with the air battle, Perel spoke to the Ground Maintenance Officer about preparations. He was informed that about all that could be done was to request reserves from the air units in Bara Province. Perel put in an official request.

Damoclean Frontiers: Ground War

They said that Captain Jedediah Barak, son of the general commanding in Dengali, had gone Native. He commanded a border outpost in a Damoclean village, where the locals raised goats and grew vegetables, chopped wood and so on for the garrison of 150 Mountain Infantry.

Had he? The young officer came from a good family, was intelligent, had been raised devoutly, but he had what some thought was a unique ability to get the best work out of his troops. They climbed like goats, cared well for their arms and equipment, and showed a remarkable degree of initiative for lower ranks, especially colonial troops.

Part of it might have been that he had blended Edomite and Damoclean style of command. Perhaps that was why, as part of Company punishment, a platoon was witnessing him rutting against the bare backside of a young private. The boy gritted his teeth but bore it bravely.

Then they received word that a lot of enemy activity was going on. Young Ensign Aristarchus burst in to report that the regiment was on the move, the base was under attack, and that Abel Company was to provide overwatch for the advancing companies moving up by road. They were also alerted that apparently enemy pilots had been downed in their zones.

"Aha!" Cried Captain Barak, not quite finished his rut, punctuating the rhythm of his words with a flesh shuddering jab. "A fine chance for Captain Barsk to show his quality! Have you learned your lesson, boy?"

"Yes, Your Honour," replied the Damoclean boy. "Never again will I take a shit on the parade ground."

"Why won't you, Mountaineer Themisticles? "

"Because it is a dirty thing to do and dishonours the Vompany and the Regiment, Your Honour!" shouted the young rifleman.

"Good boy." Barak finished called officers to him, and ordered standard operating procedure for covering the advance. First, one platoon was ordered out to provide an ambush in staggered wings on either side of a narrow mountain road, hidden by scrub forest. Second, a platoon of mortarmen and the battery of 75mm howitzers, set up in concealing pits, began to fire covering smoke. Third, from a higher position, snipers and machine gunners would watch for targets of opportunity. The toe remaing platoons would act as a reserve force. The intelligence and Recon platoon was sent out to find the downed pilots, paired up with a UH-1.

The rest of the regiment, in ten companies dived into two wings, with a battery of towed 122mm howitzers, began to advance up country roads and countryside in skirmish formations, followed 2000 meters behind by the 10th Fusiliers.


Calafia burned and smouldered on the horizon, and so the crew of NENS Naomi were scarcely feeling friendly. The corvette moved through the waves, green waters slapping her bows,and the officer of the watch scanned around with binoculars for one of the pilots who had gone into the drink.

"Think I have the Schnapps sucker, Your Honour," said Bos'n's Mate First Class Telumar, lowering his binoculars and pinging. The Junior Lieutenant put the glasses to his eyes, and saw what might at first have been taken for a sea bobbing there.

"Sharp eyes, worthy of Nimrod!" cried the OOD.

He advised Lieutenant-Commander Gadfiel of this, who in turn ordered that a zofiac should be launched. Soon, the motorized small craft was bouncing and jetting over the water, and on reaching the man, Mr. Midshipman Crozier shouted, ""We are from NENSNaomi! You are our prisoner! Surrender at once!" This was punctuated by the three sailors grimly aiming rifles at the man
Last edited by New Edom on Sun Oct 13, 2019 4:49 am, edited 9 times in total.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

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Kamohaeng Phet
Posts: 21
Founded: Jun 05, 2019
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Kamohaeng Phet » Sun Oct 06, 2019 1:07 am

The Winter Palace
Kamohaeng Phet

“These are strange times that we are living in my friend.” The king said as he walked slowly next to his prime minister’s litter. They moved around the koi ponds and watched the leaves fall and land in the water causing ripples.

It had turned to Autumn and the King had left the summer palace and moved south to the lowlands where it would be a bit warmer. Still the weather had changed a bit, and the king wore a fine wool sweater over the black military uniform that he was wearing that day. The prime minister smoked from a pipe, his head drooping slightly and his eyes hidden by his mirrored aviators.

The King continued concerned, “I am told that the Kingdom of Neue Regensburg has committed a terrible act and has bombed and destroyed much of an Edomite city. My great Elephant is still missing, and all of this while my beloved advisor, and brother in law, Count Tophek Prince of Wat Phluang is in New Edom with his wife. I wonder if my rule goes astray.”

The prime minister shifted in his seat with great effort and forced out some lazy words, “Your majesty, your rule does not go astray, but as we now know there must be something a foul with the Regensburger servants that you have accepted into your house. Surely we must consult the High Priest for his wisdom in these matters. The pair turned back away from the koi pond and looked back across the garden path to where the parade ground was in front of the palace. There all of the Regensburger servants were knelt in a line with their heads on blocks. They had been nervously watching the king and his prime minister walk and speak together.

The King walked back towards them but did not look at them, he instead directed his attention to the bhudist monk who waited quietly in meditation. The King knelt before him and waited until the priest gave him his attention, “Oh high priest, have I displeased the ancestors and the spirits by bringing in these people into my home as servants?”

The priest said not a word but threw some sand into the air and began ringing a small gong seven times. He then picked up a bell and rang it thirteen times and opened his eyes and looked upon the King’s face, “Your Majesty, the ancient ones are angered that you have brought such a traitorous people into your home. Even the wicked Han knew what they were, and cast them from their lands. You chose mercy, but perhaps a mercy to great, that such disingenuous people could not tolerate, and they have wrought great evil in taking your elephant, and contributing to the death of the kith and kin of your young royal sister’s husband. The ancient ones demand that they be removed from this earth to be judged before the enlightened tree of golden lemons.”

The king bowed before the high priest and turned to the Regensburger servants, “For the theft of a holy elephant, for deception in the Royal Palace, for false fornication with the king, for the murder of innocent civilians of the great and noble Kingdom-Empire of New Edom, for wrongs committed against King-Emperor Elijah, Queen-Empress Mara, Count Tophek the Prince of Wat Phluang, Princess Abha, and for high treason against the Holy King of Kamohaeng Phet, I King Phra Pok Klao Chao Yu Hua of Kamohaeng Phet, hammer of the Han, lord of the blessed waters do sentence you to die!”

The King nodded to an executioner who wend down the line of weeping Regensburgers and lopped their heads off one at a time with a saber. Between each cut, he took time to wipe off the blade and to hone it with a whet stone before moving on to his next victim. The King stood still watching the deaths of these traitors, his mouth drawn tight to try and hold in his anger and the terrible crimes that they had committed towards so many.

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New Edom
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Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Sun Oct 06, 2019 8:06 am

Defense of Peregrino: War at Sea

The fixed radar arrays on Peregrino and at Wenceslas AFV had detected multiple launches from Regensburg. General Foliot communicated with Colonel Ferrovius, advising that he believed that the air element of an attack on Peregrino had begun. This was it: Paragon Red head moved to a fully active operation.

This would take careful timing, patience and stealth. Colonel Ferrovius had a quiet moment. In his hand was a message which he carried with him into the ready room. As he approached it, he heard a loud burst of young people's laughter. He could easily imagine it, having been a young pilot himself. They were keyed up, highly talented, confident young men and women, fiercely competitive. They were joking, challenging one another, eager to be up there and join the patrol.

He walked in, greeted by the sight of men and a few women in flight suits, listening to the tail end of a story told by Lazarus, the nickname of a pilot who had ditched three times and walked away unscathed three times. He had a loud voice and a way of throwing his head back when he laughed and stomping his right foot at the same time. Galarius, the 8th Squadron commander, sat nearby like a benevolent father, petting his dog, Gorgon, an ugly-beautiful blue mastiff, who was panting happily. Angel, the oldest female pilot, was pausing in lighting up a cigarillo as she listened to Lazarus' story, then burst into infectious laughter. Bat Face, her flight partner saw the Colonel first, and shot to his feet, typical of the junior officers. "Attention! Commanding officer on parade!"

"As you were," Ferrovius said. Among the pilots were the Intelligence Officer, Weather Officer, the Principal Medical Officer, and the Military Police Commander, a few other support officers. On the walls were maps of Peregrino, including a contour map, and a grid map of the combat range with grease pencil marks.

"Ladies and gentleness: I have a message from the King-Emperor. Pilots of the 8th Interceptor Squadron I regret to inform you that Regensburg, by preparing an invasion against us, has taken our forces by surprise. No reinforcements can be sent to you at this time. I am aware that you are a superb force, dedicated and skilled, and that one to one, the odds are good for you. You will, however, be greatly outnumbered, and every missile will count. You may all be forced to give your lives in Defense of the island. Nevertheless, in the words of Christ, know this: greater love has no man than this: that he should give his life for his friend. I thank you all."

He looked up. "That is the king-emperor's message. Now, here is mine. You are all clear on your mission duties? Then, in God's name, strike true. Bear down upon them give their mothers something to cry at."

The enemy had farther to go, would have less time to complete their missions, would have a stricter timetable. But there were far more of them. They would be able to stagger their attack. They had some margin for error. The Edomites had next to none.

The enemy would try to clear the anti aircraft batteries first. They would attempt to get rid of these defences and would, then, move in fighter bombers with fighters protecting them. The air Defense, therefore, were themselves going to be using passive radar, relying on what they received from the fixed array. Radio silence was to be observed.

The air crews moved out onto the Tarmac, swaggering in their flight suits, carrying helmets and oxygen.

"Splash a kraut today, dinner at the Queen Mehitabel later," said the Ground Crew officer to Lazarus as he reached his interceptor.

"Yeah? You're on," said Lazarus with a grin before climbing up to his cockpit.

Galarius was up in his own plane, running final checks. He felt a curious mingling of a sense of doom and yet intensely cheerful. He was shriven, the King-Emperor's words had impressed on him the importance of the mission. He would lead the squadron back, hang quietly at a high ceiling, and only strike when the AA had engaged. If need was a good day to die.

Major Naioth commanded the AA, and had 12,squat bodied, low slung armoured fighting vehicles carrying a box launcher each of Strela-10 missiles. They could detect enemies themselves within about 8 klicks, but would be passively receiving intel from the fixed array and the fleet. The missiles were very fast, capable of moving up to Mach 1.5.

By contrast, the Klub launchers were real beasts, each carrying 2 of the 8 meter long cruise missiles. Their targets would be the enemy fleet, which would hopefully move into the range of the sonar buoys soon.

The last line of Defense were radar guided XSU-23-4s, which would rain autocannon fire from four barrels at inbound missiles within the last thousand meters or so. Ten such vehicles had been assigned to protect the air base, four the army base.

Defense of Peregrino:Naval War

When the late Admiral Charles Rand had proposed using modern corvettes with modificatiom, he had recommended that roles of older Frigates could be fulfilled by a smaller vessel with an improved signal and electronic warfare systems suite, and that missiles for anti aircraft missions would be most effective. What came to be was the Queen corvette Class. This vessel only required a crew of 93. It made better use of space than the old Battleaxe Class of frigate. But no one had ever put them in a battle like this.

Admiral Tophek, in the CIC of the Esther, listened with half an ear to the handling of the corvette by Lieutenant-Commander Holveg. All systems tested, looming good. The vessels moved in varying figure eight patterns of patrol. Receiving, quietly, information from the fixed array, the maritime patrol planes, the sonar buoys. Their anti ship and anti missile batteries at the ready.

Ah, to be a ship captain. One vessel to focus on, one little seaborne world t dwell on. By comparison to his station, how peaceful.

'The fleet had its orders. The subs were to prioritize enemy submarines, the enemy cruiser or Destroyers. The corvettes were to do the same but also support the air defennse artillery, and use their electronic warfare capabilities to mask their positions as much as possible.

They just needed the enemy to hit the tripwire.
Last edited by New Edom on Thu Oct 10, 2019 4:51 pm, edited 6 times in total.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

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Neue Regensburg
Posts: 213
Founded: Jan 19, 2019
Tyranny by Majority

Postby Neue Regensburg » Wed Oct 09, 2019 2:01 pm


Admiral Bundelball - CO of all District 1 Forces
Vice-Admiral Sleimehol - Fleet Commander and Formation 1 Commander
General Winkelkrotsch - Luftheer Commander
General Pienpantz - Marine Commander
Kaptain Schtinkthum - Fleet Formation 2 Commander
Kommander Skroetumteichler - Princess Sigrid Attack Submarine Commander
Major Chestengroper - Bomber Squadron 1st Wave Commander
Major Bugeroeller - SEAD aircraft 1st Wave Commander
Major Peichenstahl - Escort aircraft 1st Wave Commander
Lieutenant Sauerkant - Weapons Officer, RRS Fenris

The bombers under Major Chestengroper kept on flying towards their targets behind the F-15s. He saw on his instruments that he was being pinged from some radar far off. If there was any doubt Regensburg was coming, it would be gone now. Despite their larger force, Chestengroper was still doubtful about the plan. The Edomites were a formidable enemy that were using tactics formed from their experiences in a multitude of conflicts and technology as good as their own. A numerically superior enemy was not any significant blow to their morale and they had the benefit of being able to prepare. If only the politicians had been more cunning and had given the Luftheer and Kriegsmarine time to prepare. Instead they had to scramble to get everything in order with all the delays throwing precious time at the Edomites. He pushed these thoughts out of his head knowing they were not his concern. Better men had planned this conflict and he was in no place to question their methods.

“We’ve been made lads! Be ready to burn to your targets. God be with us.” He said to the bombers with him with wide eyes as he saw the pinging radar of the Edomites on his instruments. Chestengroper made the Sign of the Cross.

Elsewhere, Major Bugeroeller was commanding the SEAD mission from his own F-16. He had noticed the pinging from the radar as well. There was only one source. “Rogue 4 and 5, as soon as our escort engages, break off and go after that radar. Everyone else, watch the ground. You get one or two dodge maneuvers then you go after those SAMs.” He said confidently. The SAMs would be the most difficult thing as they would be difficult to find. Not only that, fuel restrictions meant they had to dodge which was dangerous. Of course their planes were capable of hitting their afterburners and outrunning the missiles to an extent. But that meant having to turn around and go home or ejecting somewhere over the water. The Luftheer could not take such casual losses.

In response to the radar, Bugeroeller switched on the electronic countermeasure suite of his own F-16 attempting to confuse the enemy radar. His aircraft was not dedicated to the task but had some capability of doing so. They had fitted several of the planes with such ECM pods with the Luftheer lacking AWACs and EW aircraft.

The escort planes that had them did the same. Where they could, their suites attempted to jam, confuse and present false signals to the enemy radar to cover their advance. Major Peichenstahl seeing they went active, switched on his ECM suite and went active on his radar for a few seconds as well to see if their interceptors were coming. They were. “The enemy is upon us. Go active now and engage. Knight to Mage, you are a go!” He ordered then fired off an EM missile himself after locking on. “Fox 3!” He exclaimed. A trail of smoke zoomed off ahead of him. Each of the F-15s took care to time their launches carefully so the missiles would not be tracking each other.

They learned to do this from gaining access to some leaked Noviteran Air Force simulations. In their simulation of a massive air attack on Peregrino, Noviteran Air Force pilots had made the mistake of not being careful in their first volley of missiles which began to track each other. Not only that, they had made the mistake of not attacking from different directions and holding their stealth aircraft in reserve. It was only the weight of their numbers in the air that had won the day. While the Luftheer had numbers here, it was not near what the Noviteran Air Force had nor had they the advantage of surprise. They cannot afford to make such mistakes. In the end though, the simulation had been a resounding success. They would have to achieve the same with lesser numbers and capabilities.

Chestengroper heard Piechenstahl. Mage was referring to his squadron of bombers. “The Knights are engaged. Mages, burn to your targets. Now, go!” He ordered then hit the thrust on his own controls. The F-111s were moving in now.

“Rogues, follow them.” Said Bugeroeller. The SEAD aircraft went too. It was their intention that the ground AA might fire upon the SEAD craft instead of the bombers who had a better chance of slipping the missiles. As ordered, two of the F-16s broke off and went straight for the pinging radar on the ground. They hit their afterburners and if given the chance, would unleash their HARM missiles at the fixed radar array. Although Bugeroeller knew that even if they took that out, it would only be one of many ground-based radars the enemy had at their disposal.


Kommander Skroetumteichler was doing his utmost best to keep the submarine quiet. It was a long arduous process to approach as he had to move slow, coasting when he could. Their ship had been rigged for ultra-quiet. But perhaps that would not be enough if the sonar nets were good and were also tracking water displacement. At least, a torpedo tube opening and then the subsequent launch would be heard by the towed arrays of the surface fleet. ARSOC and anti-submarine helicopters would be launched immediately to start dipping their domes in the water. Sleimehol and Bundelball’s plan of crossfire and immediate retaliation would be costly. But the weight of their numbers made it a viable one. All the same, if there was a sonar to be tripped it would be alerted now by their fleet’s submarines and corvettes.

On Kaptain Schtinkthum’s own cruiser, ASW Black hawks were fueled, ready and waiting to be launched. It would be dangerous as their corvettes might would likely fire SAMs at them. But that too was part of Sleimehol’s plan. “If our helicopters destroy their submarines, good. If they are to splash in the sea, their sacrifice will not be in vain as our surface ships deal swift retribution!” He had said during the briefing.

Sleimehol was in his own CIC posted behind Lieutenant Sauerkant and her delicious blonde hair. Although it was not really necessary, he was running weapons checks with her again bent low over her while looking at the screen. It was close enough to inhale the scent of her hair, his true intention for being so thorough. Sleimehol took in the scent of whatever fruity shampoo she was using and a shiver went down his spine. It was a pleasant experience to have before a battle.
Last edited by Neue Regensburg on Wed Oct 09, 2019 2:08 pm, edited 3 times in total.
This nation has been taken up by Vionna-Frankenlisch, who retains creative control. Most posts are presently made by Republica de Gran Chaco and Noviterra.For the old owner see Nachtmark.

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Mount Zeon
Posts: 71
Founded: Oct 23, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Mount Zeon » Thu Oct 10, 2019 12:02 pm


The noontime lull had settled over the settlement. Men and boys came in from the fields, wiping sweat from their brows onto the worn sleeves of their shirts and taking long gulps of water from canteens. A hearty meal awaited them – especially in the country, dinner was the largest meal for the Zeonese. It gave them the energy they needed to finish the day’s labor. Supper in the evening would be smaller, enough to sate growling stomachs before bed but not wasteful of food whose energy would go unused in the night. The wives and daughters of the men would have the food ready by the time they arrived at the doorstep. If they did not, there would be consequences.

Jubal Thomas passed the canteen over to Hosea White, his closest neighbor, as they walked the dirt path from field to home. Jubal’s son Joseph and Hosea’s son William trailed a few steps behind. The two fathers talked shop while the boys chatted.

“Heard on the radio there’s some big fight brewin’,” Jubal was saying to Hosea. “Talkin’ about fightin’ further south.”

“Think it’ll come up here?” Hosea asked. He was one of the newer residents, and he had a nervous streak of worry in him. Always asking about how things might go wrong.

“Nah,” Jubal replied before spitting a wad of phlegm onto the side of the path. “Way down south. Edomites and Regensburgers at it, so the newsman said. All those banshees fighting each other, too.”

“Good,” Hosea declared. “Bunch of Finneyites and she-devils get killed and go to Hell, I won’t complain. So long as they don’t kill each other here.”

A burst of noise and movement interrupted the conversation as the two boys, apparently engaged in a race, suddenly weaved between their fathers and tore up the road towards the town. Jubal and Hosea laughed.

The town of Recompense was small, only a few dozen families numbering a few hundred souls. It would have looked pretty similar to any small town in Mount Zeon, except that this was not Mount Zeon. Not officially, anyway. The border between Mount Zeon and Damoclea was technically some miles to the west. But it had been a porous border for centuries. The Damocleans had never respected it, certainly. They’d raided farms and homes since the first Zeonese settlers planted their roots in the area, and the ones who’d followed hadn’t seen anything stopping them from staking out claims to land farther east. The only laws governing what was Mount Zeon and what was Damoclea here were the laws of nature: if you could take it, and hold it, you could keep it. The communists had tried to put a stop to all that when they’d taken charge, but once their godless regime had fallen things went right back. Some people came back to reclaim the land they’d been forced to flee when the communists had tried to make the border more than just a fiction on maps. Others were out here for the first time, looking for a plot of land to build a life on. They came armed, and they came with a mixture of utter disdain for the Damocleans as a people and a healthy sense of the danger they could pose.

As the four Zeonese neared the point in the road where their paths would diverge they said hello to Josiah, one of the Associators who stood watch. He had a pair of binoculars around his neck and one hand on the barrel of a semi-automatic rifle. A portable radio was clipped to his belt, to summon more of the town’s Association militia in the event that Damocleans were spotted trying to burn crops or make off with livestock.

New Jerusalem

On the interior of the massive dome at the center of the palace were a series of elaborate murals depicting the history of not only the Kingdom founded by the Prophet Matthias, but a summary of the entire history of the world as interpreted by the Kingdom’s founder. Massive painted images showed the creation of the world, scenes from the Old Testament, and then God’s pact with the Devil. To test the faith of his creations, God had withdrawn from the world and allowed the Devil to try and corrupt God’s children. Satan had nearly succeeded, and so God had enlightened Matthias and charged him with building a nation of truly Godly men.

Underneath these lurid images sat the members of the Government Council. These were the top tier of the elites in Mount Zeon, the men responsible for ruling, governing, and administering the Kingdom in the name of their leader, the man who had summoned them to this meeting.

“All rise in the presence of the Father of the Kingdom and Vessel of the True Spirit.”

The men at the table rose in one smooth motion as the doors opened. Father John walked with his personal bodyguard on his right and his wife Mary, the Mother of the Kingdom, on his left. Mary was here merely as a formality, dutifully attending to her husband as expected of the woman who modeled good behavior for all women of the Kingdom. She would not be expected or permitted to speak. Her white dress was immaculate and seemed to shine under the lights of the room. Father John was dressed in the formal uniform of his station: a green military frock coat, lined in white silk and sporting buttons of shined brass, and green pants of the same shade disappeared into impeccably shined black wellington-style boots. A crimson sash with twelve golden tassels, representing the ancient tribes of Israel, was slung across his chest. He strode across the floor to his seat at the head of the table and then sat, allowing the other men to follow suit.

“Foreign Minister, your report please,” Father John said without preliminaries or introductions. He was an impatient man, quick to anger and uninterested in unnecessary formalities except where the faith was concerned.

Foreign Minster James Pleasant cleared his throat and began. “New Edom and Neue Regensburg have begun fighting. New Edom has also entered a state of war with Vionna-Frankenlisch. The Deadorans have apparently begun invasions of both Aedora and Kehrahn. Solisia is involved as well, and Novitera has declared war on them.”

“Fighting seems to be happening in three places, primarily,” James continued. “The Deadoran invasions south and west, the ongoing dispute in Ayaca which started all of this, and fighting between New Edom and Neue Regensburg. Some of that fighting is happening in Damoclea.”

“Is there any chance this labyrinth of a war could involve the Kingdom?”

“I believe it is unlikely, Father,” James replied. “The womanly regimes seem content to fight amongst themselves for now. Novitera has made no indications of extending its declaration of war beyond Solisia. Even in Damoclea, the fighting is to the south, away from our border.”

“Yet we now border one of the main aggressors, do we not?” Father John looked from the Foreign Minister to Richard Truth, the Grand Marshal of Mount Zeon’s military. “Could their aggressive eye turn towards us?”

“I agree with the Foreign Minister’s analysis, Father,” Richard replied. “But I have taken the precaution of bringing the Second Army up to readiness. If Regensburg does attempt to invade, we will be ready to stop them.”

“Very good, Marshal.” Father John was silent, contemplating his own thoughts for a moment. “I wish to be kept notified of all major developments,” he announced. “Things have come to a head very suddenly. The course of events could change at any moment. High Justice Pierson.”

“Yes, Father?” Jordan Pierson was a descendant of the closest friend and confidant to the Prophet Matthias. For this reason, he had been made the leader of the Judges, the secret police and internal security force of the Kingdom.

“I suspect that our enemies may use this upheaval to distract our watchful eye, and seize that opportunity to advance their schemes,” John said. “Increase surveillance on all embassies of the warring powers. Prepare a list of all foreign nationals in the country, belonging to any state currently at war. If need be, we will remove good flesh with bad to excise a cancer before it spreads.”

“It will be done, Father.”

“Good.” Father John rose and the rest of the Council did the same. “You have your duties, gentlemen. Carry them out. May the Spirit of Truth guide us all.”
"Zeon" is pronounced "zay-on"
Cossack Khanate: Your nation seems pretty interesting, seems like something I would like to live in if I was a white Christian male.
Mount Zeon: Actually the one place where we’re not totally backwards is race! As long as you’re a hetero dude and you can farm, it’s a pretty good place.
Vionna-Frankenlisch: I am a Christian white male and it sounds very much like something I'd like to avoid like the plague
Mount Zeon: is it the farming

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New Edom
Postmaster of the Fleet
Posts: 22964
Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Thu Oct 10, 2019 5:18 pm

Peregrino: Air Operations

The fixed array continued to track enemy operations. The were moving like the wings of the Angel of Death itself, great and terrible. None of the techs and operators could doubt that the enemy had found his nerve, moved with some fresh found determination to avenge past humiliations and prove themselves on the Regional stage. They were coming in wind and fire, for havoc.

Major Naioth sat in a swivel seat of a BMP style command and Signals vehicle which was passively receiving the informatuon from the fixed array, concealed by cameo netting and brush on the slope of a wooded hill. If the array went down, his would be a replacement system, and he would become a target. For now, however, he simply let of a barely tackable 3 second coded signal, indicating "Engage"

From concealed launchers guarding the approaches to the array and the Air Force base, box launchers pivoted skyward. Target acquisition vehicles locked on. Great puffs of smoke erupted, and one after another, Strela-10 missiles flew up, rapidly acquiring Mach 3.8 to strike at their targets, the SEAD aircraft. The Shilka vehicles, for now, were silent, tracking targets within range, ready to attack to cover reloading SAM vehicles. Each vehicle fired two missiles in succession, then t would relay to the first, and its crew would rapidly begin a reload. Two of the enemy Falcons seemed to move evade, but there was detection of a launch of deadly intent...

The HARM missiles swept past the defensive ring. The Holy Empire had never faced a SEAD mission before, and so the Shilkas could not even track them. The signallers in their nearby bunker were horrified in a few seconds their observation screen. The array was struck with two fiery spherical explosions that destroyed it in fragments flying into the sky, and the great swath of its targeting acquisition gone silent.

Missiles flew in from the sea, and took out both radar arrays, in effect taking out air control for the base, silencing the signals coming from them as well as the fixed array to Colonel Ferrovius' CIC in the command bunker. He felt a sinking in his heart but stood sternly. Rumbles came from above. The MP HQ was struck, and the security team above was howling in pain and terror as the tomahawks collapsed the roof and the walls crushed in. Some targets, such as the PT field, were insignificant. The field hospital, where doctors, nurses and orderlies were at the ready to receive casualties, was also hit several times. The explosions ripped through the structures, fire and flying debris killing or injuring nearly everyone. Much of the base still stood at this stage, but it had been hurt. Badly.

Reports were streaming in to the HQ bunker. Colonel Ferrovius felt like weeping, but it was not the first time. Man was as grass that was put in the oven and baked. He advised that the 104th might anticipate an attack to follow up, as the roads and runways, fuel and hangars had not, thus far, be attacked. He turned to the men and women in the room. "Gentlemen: make certain your sidearms are in holstered, and ready. God bless you all: remember your duty. Get us connected to the signal towers at the Army Base and the airport."

While this went on, the Fishbed Squadron remained silent, waiting for their moment to rush the enemy bombers while their escorts were fully engaged. Major Galerius, however, and his companions realized that the enemy had destroyed the radar. They had to fulfill their part,mhowever.

The wave of Regensburger bombers swept in with determination, and Galaruys ordered his people in. The ugly little planes dashed over sea and island, moving in to clash, not longer after the SAMS badly battered the enemy SEAD mission. In a flurry of missile exchange they could all clearly see one another. If the krauts did not have such strange tactics, using larger groups rather than pairs, they might not have had a chance, but they did.

Life was sweet, for this was what they loved best, the surge of power as needle like they darted among the flying missiles and countermeasures. Galarius felt the jolt of a missile exploding under his wing, but he had damaged an enemy Eagle and forced it to retreat. Angel was bleeding fuel and flying desperately for the airport, Lazarus, after damaging a now limping enemy SEAD fighter was similarity hauling his crippled plane on the retreat. They had fought hard, and now warnings were sounding in the cockpits of the remaining pilots' planes, indicating pursuit...

Defense of Peregrino:War at Sea

The little fleet also remained quiet until the trap was sprung. The P-3 Orion's, also hanging back, also took a risk, of sending an encrypted but possibly detectable signal to the effect of enemy sonar crossing the buoy line. Once this was done, the pilots retreated further immediately in either direction, south, away from the island.

The enemy seemed to concentrating its aircraft for an attack on the island. The Submarines and corvettes had their instructions: their commanders proceeded to carry them out. Aboard NENS Nathan, tasked with picking out the enemy cruiser, the sonar division was shutting out all other stimuli to picking its distinctive signature. Commander Rubens knew that it was his duty to patiently get about 1800 meters from the enemy leviathan, then launch 2 torpedos in quick succession. It would be a quick, daring operation. The other three Submarines were to wait, and engage enemy escorts when they revealed themselves in the cruiser's Defense.

At the same time as this was revealed, the four Klub launchers on land would simultaneously attack the enemy fleet. It was at this time that the corvettes would simultaneously launch an anti air and anti fleet attack. But it all depended on Rubens' team discerning the cruiser from her escorts in a timely manner.

Aboard the NENS Esther Admiral Tophek was aware of the brutal attack on Kiron AFB, but put it out of his mind. The air attack was not really in his hands. According to the sonar officer on the little flagship, the two great enemy cruisers had immediately begun turns as they commenced firing, and began to turn away. "No other large vessels have crossed the sonar line, Your Excellency. We have not yet detected any sub surface contacts. According to my reading, we have five of their corvettes bearing from multiple angles moving in"

The CIC crew looked at their screens bu a few glanced at him. Commander Holveg said, "Excellency, shall we attack the corvettes?"

Tophek lit a cigarette. "We will attack via helicopter launched rocket torpedo on the enemy corvettes. If we sweep them away by that means, then we hunt the main fleet. The sonar buoys and subs wwilll continue to hunt enemy subs. I am sure that they are out there."

Receiving the orders, the Ka-27 crews readied anti-submarine rockets for firing and moved towards positions, the ugly, boxy helicopters skimming like unlikely metal flying beetles over the sea until they were within about 90 klicks, then launched their rockets, which fired, then skimmed over the sea till they reached torpedo range, then dropped the torpedoes which were to be radio guided towards the enemy vessels.
Last edited by New Edom on Tue Oct 15, 2019 3:32 pm, edited 7 times in total.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

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Neue Regensburg
Posts: 213
Founded: Jan 19, 2019
Tyranny by Majority

Postby Neue Regensburg » Fri Oct 11, 2019 12:49 am

Neue Regensburg

Bells rang throughout the city celebrating the glorious attack on Calafia. While the northern attack against Damoclea was lauded as a bold and victorious strike against the war machine of New Edom, it had questionable effects, and had taken a large loss on the aircraft involved. The Bombing of Calafia was another matter entirely. Many Edomite aircraft had been destroyed, as well as a large attack on the home territory of New Edom itself. It was a great victory for the public.

It was said that the king was stressed and frightened as he made the announcements to stand next to his ally, Vionna-Frankenlisch, but now any doubt about the strength of Neue Regensburg was gone from the minds of the people. The image of Lieutenant Colonel Otto von Hönigberg standing in his cockpit after returning and holding his flight helmet high, his sweaty matted hair a mess and a white scarf blowing in the wind, had spread across the country. The man was lauded as a great hero pilot.

His wife was overcome with joy to see him walk through the door of their home for dinner and fell to her knees weeping. He clucked at her and said, “This is no way for a woman of Regensburg to set an example for the children.”

She had stood up and kissed him, then wiped her tears and returned to dinner while Otto greeted his children. They ate a dinner of thick stew and sauerkraut over home baked rolls. Otto drank a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon along with his meal and questioned the children about the studies they had worked on during the day.

After dinner Otto donned his smoking jacket and lit up his pipe. He sat thoughtfully in an overstuffed chair while his wife and children cleaned up. When he could hear his wife had sent the boys to prepare for bed, he called her into the room, “Greta, come and speak with me my love.”

His wife obediently came and he motioned for her to sit next to him. He puffed on his pipe for a moment savoring the flavor before setting it down and taking her hand, “My love, tomorrow I want you and the children to go to our estate in the country.”

“My darling Otto, I could not bear to leave you at such a time as this!” Greta protested.

He gave her a stern look, “Many wives and lovers, and mothers, and sisters will see their men away during this time. I shall not be immune from this.”

“Sir, I could not bear to be away, checking the papers for your name, and hoping that no harm befalls you.” She said.

Otto stiffened, “Madam, I should not wish that upon you if I lived by your tender side for one thousand years, and yet it may be a necessity. Today I wrought terrible fire and destruction upon the citizens of Calafia, a peaceful beach town, where families both rich and poor go for pleasant holidays. With my bombs, I tore down their false idols, but also tore apart lives. I do not wish this fate, that I brought to the barbarian to be brought back upon you. Let me die if that is my fate for, I live by the sword, and serve both my God and my King, but for you and the children, I could not bear the thought of you suffering.”

She grabbed onto his arm and wept. Otto allowed this as the children had gone to bed and he knew that the unknown was difficult for the female to understand and accept. He would not be there to care and provide for her directly. When Greta managed to stifle her tears a bit, she began to speak, “My love, please there must be some way that we could manage.”

Otto held her by the shoulders and looked into her blue eyes, red and puffy from grief, “I will hear no more of this, but take heart, I know where to find you when I am on leave. Come now, let us go upstairs and make love for we are both alive and healthy, and the future is unknown.”

Damoclea Front

“Grimsley! Have you gotten in touch with the artillery yet?” Colonel Burgermeister demanded.

Grimsley stood straight to answer, “Yes my colonel, they have 155s and 105s available to cover our sector. The other regiments on the peak behind and across the valley on our right flank are also in position to cover us with indirect fire from heavy machine guns and mortars.”

“Good Grimsley. I would not want to be caught out like some kind of plaything for these Edomites. Could you imagine like some kind of … toy!?” Burgermeister shuddered

“My colonel, the first and second battalions are nearly across the valley floor. Their Recon elements have begun their climb up the slope.” The RTO said.

“Good, we may have caught these fools sleeping! Can you imagine if the Edomites see us looking down on the pass road from their side of the border Grimsley? Ha!” Colonel Burgermeister laughed.

Staff Sergeant Chadwick Thunderköch and his team had managed to scale up to a finger well to the left of where Colonel Burgermeister’s regiment was advancing. He had his binoculars out and was glassing the other hill. One of the members of his team made to stand and move out again but Chad grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back down into the cover of the brush.

“Shhh Gunter, something is not right. Don’t you see?” Chad whispered.

“What is that my staff sergeant?” Gunter asked.

“Even now, as the mountaineer recon teams are still climbing, the Edomites have arrived first.” Chad said, “There, they begin setting up their defenses, but our friends will be in their fields of fire and will have to try to take this by force!”

“My God, Staff Sergeant, they could have wiped out the recon teams and caught the poor mountaineers entirely by surprise if it was not for your sharp eyes!” Gunter said.

Chad smiled, “We have done nothing yet. Get on the radio and advise Colonel Burgermeister to be careful.”

“My colonel, that recon team from the mech regiment has reported Edomites have taken the positions already!” Grimsley said.

“What? I’ve been bamboozled! Inform the regiment that we are assaulting a defended objective and to proceed with all do speed and caution!” Burgermeister ordered.

“Yes, my colonel!” Grimsley said and then got onto the radio to call the battalion commanders.
This nation has been taken up by Vionna-Frankenlisch, who retains creative control. Most posts are presently made by Republica de Gran Chaco and Noviterra.For the old owner see Nachtmark.

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New Edom
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Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Fri Oct 11, 2019 2:46 pm

Damoclean Front

Damoclean Mountain Infantry were among the few troops considered decent by the Edomite Army. The men were somewhat older volunteers being, on average, 21 years old and former conscripts who had signed up for better pay a desire for adventure and personal fitness and courage. The unit had been designed by General Adam Nicanor, who had urged his second son, Uriah, to take the command to set a good example to Edomite and Damoclean alike.

They were, par excellence, real light infantry, sacrificing any armour or heavy gear for movement and skill at climbing and moving over long distances, capable of marching 15 miles a day. They wore field kepis but were, in action or field training, permitted to let them "slouch" like forage caps, and wore tunic like green shirts and trousers with good boots, combat belts, packs. Each They swaggered this privilege somewhat, for no other Damoclean Army regiment had such a privilege. Fire team had 1 FM-24 gunner with assistant, 1 rifle grenadier capable of firing 20mm grenades, and 5 riflemen armed with MAT-40s, one of whom was a corporal. Each squad, led by a sergeant, also had one field medic. Each platoon included a junior officer, a staff sergeant, RTO, and another medic.

They were still Damoclean. Brutal people who had changed heathen gods for barely understood communist ideology that just gave them excuses for robbing, rapping, and murdering anyone who was not them. Discipline was fair, but very harsh. The gauntlet, beatings, being tied to trees in any weather, buried up to the neck, were all punishments the largely Edomite officers and NCOs imposed. Worst were the Damoclean born ones, anxious to prove themselves.

One such officer was Captain Iapetus, who had been a colonel in the Damoclean army, but had taken a demotion to second lieutenant, and had striven hard for years to prove himself. He proudly said that he was cruel, but fair. His company now led the advance, and on hearing from a scout that movement had been detected, he requested the Pack Howitzsr battery to fire covering smoke. Colonel Nicanor, watching from a command post just below a ridge line concealed by pines, gave his assent that this adopted son, once a wretch but baptized and clean, should have this honour.

The gunners loved their little guns. They were not as powerful as others, but Jesu, the fire and maneuver was great with them in almost any terrain! Three guns were loaded with smoke shells, and the guns fired.

A few seconds, then Iapetus said, "Alright, forward." The first company began a skirmish line advance through the rough country, using a covering and movement by squads to cover ground. Once they had confirmed contact they would begin hitting the enemy with mortars and howitzers to provide stronger fire. Farther back, the Fusiliers had finished their movement up the road, and were beginning to deploy the troops and vehicles into battle formations. Farher back still, the Lancers had arrived at the outskirts of the FOB, but hung back, lest the air battle prove not yet over.

"Are we bait, or a spear Point?" Ensign Josephus asked Ensign Hephaestion as the two cinched up their packs

Hephaestion chuckled. "We will possibly be meat at the end of a spear, yes."

First Sergeant Flavo, a lean, wlflike man, was moving along the line of the platoons with an RTO following him like a jackal, and growled, "I beg you young gentlemen: please get your platoons into position." There was little of request in his tone. The Penitents, as this company was known, was the only one that had some Damoclean officers, and Flavo thought of himself as a minder. The two young men hastened to move to their command posts and got their men moving.

The 10th Fusiliers were rather typical line Infantry, moving rapidly to an action point on light armoured vehicles such as the big eight wheeled Hamsher or the Lizard Armoured Car. The Hamsher carried the KPV on it, and the Lizard was a four wheeled armoured car which also carried a heavy machine gun. They were mostly recruited from western Bara Province, and came largely of town and urban stock, so they were something of a mixed bag of ETC and Apostolics, a majority of them Baran but a significant number of Anglo-Germans, Cornellian, a few Dengali and so on. They were armed with the AK-47 automatic rifle and generally had more advanced equipment than the Mountain Regiment. They wore helmets and generally had better gear.
Last edited by New Edom on Sat Oct 12, 2019 7:42 pm, edited 3 times in total.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

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New Edom
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Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Sun Oct 13, 2019 10:44 am

Malacanos Zone, Edomite Damoclea

In Eudaimonia, a town of about 20,000 in NW Damoclea, a very different group of people from the Zeronese settlers were also hard at work. Here, there were three classes of peopl. The Damocleans had roamed the area, waving red and black flags, arching, shouting slogans, and now and then holding huge rallies. The commissars would organize work according to principles argued about, and there were often shortages. They fought running battles now and then as other communities were attacked for food, concubines, liquor and other goods.

Then there were the Malacanoi, a tribal people who lived in a rather inhospitable stretch of rocky country, mostly shepherds and raiders themselves, who were ethnically more like Hydrenians, Lyscanians and so on, who had eventually been more civilized by the Cornellian. When Damoclea was invaded by New Edom and her allies, the Malacanoi nation had staged a rebellion against the People's Republic of Damoclea and formed an army of 5,000 men. They slaughtered the Party leaders and their supporters and their leader, a former magistrate called Spiro Vinkos, pledged the Republic of Malacanos to New Edom in exchange for internal self government. When this was accepted by then President of the Council of Ministers Perrin Pahath-Moab in the name of Queen Mara, the Malacanoi seized all property and virtually endlaved the Damocleans.

The poorly named Eudaimonia was a dour place where a Malacanoi had worked hard to build up gherds of goats, plant groves of olives, and grow barley. For each Malacanoi clan there were hundreds of Damocleans who lived as cottages or in Doris, working mostly for room and board. Some questionably luckier ones worked as servants or concubines. Of course, as a result of this odd class system there was another group of people as well: dispossessed Damocleans who wandered the roads as beggars, footpads, mixed with religious penitents, refugees and other wretches. When a bad or encampment grew too large or visible, a Malacanoi group of Militia or soldiers would go and burn them out.

In the town, there was also a barracks for a company of soldiers of the Army of Malacanos. These troops were loved by the men of property the way they loved their hunting dogs and prize roosters, and feared by the populace. Generally, they could be seen parading and raising a town flag every morning and lowering it in the evening. They could also be seen drinking themselves silly when off duty, lumbering around on patrol in [url=]antiquated looking uniforms[/img] that the Militia had taken from an old storage facility. Encountered on the road, they generally looked bored and mean.

There was also an Edomite presence in the area. Clergy arrived as educators and judges. Civil servants arrived to oversee collection of taxes. Ministry of Police officials had arrived to make sure Communism, Anarchism or Feminism did not real their ugly heads again. And, with War arriving, a military advisory team was sent in.

But in the case of Eudaimonia, all this seemed remote. There were barley fields to be worked, holes on the north road to be mended, court cases about property divisions and lawsuits over business deals to be head, baptisms and weddings to be planned. The Malacanoi took to Christianity with the strangeness of former heathens, barely understanding but enjoying it immensely, peculiarly loving what they believed to be "Baby Jesus" the expected incarnation of God who would come one day and grow into an all redeeming King of Kings, most of all. They believed that Queen-Empress Mara was his mother, King-Emperor Elijah his adopted father and protector, and for this reason they looked forward to their great Christmas parade. One day, Christmas would end with atheists arrival of the real Baby Jesus, and they had to be ready.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"



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