Advent Fire: The Al-Saranidi Uprising (IC, SIGNUPS, MT/PMT)

[National Revolutionaries of Saranidia]

OOC Thread: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=478482
Opening theme
__________________________________________________________________________

Upon its creation (by Jeremiah and his son Ben Sirah), the golem had upon its forehead the phrase "YHVH Elohim `Emet" [God is truth].
-alleged text from the Talmud or Kabbalah

”Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”
-Jeremiah 1:5
See, today I appoint you over nations and kingdoms to uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant.”
-Jeremiah 1:10

Then another horse came out, a fiery red one. Its rider was given power to take peace from the earth and to make people kill each other. To him was given a large sword.
-Revelation 6:4
The locusts looked like horses prepared for battle. On their heads they wore something like crowns of gold, and their faces resembled human faces.  Their hair was like women’s hair, and their teeth were like lions’ teeth. They had breastplates like breastplates of iron, and the sound of their wings was like the thundering of many horses and chariots rushing into battle.
-Revelation 7:7-9

David said to his men, "Each of you strap on your sword!" So they did, and David strapped his on as well. About four hundred men went up with David, while two hundred stayed with the supplies.
-1 Samuel 25:13

”The good fighters of old first put themselves beyond the possibility of defeat, and then waited for an opportunity of defeating the enemy.”
-Sun Tzu
“He will win who knows how to handle both superior and inferior forces.
-Sun Tzu

The battlefield is a scene of constant chaos. The winner will be the one who controls that chaos, both his own and the enemies.”
-Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte

“The harder the conflict, the greater the triumph.”
-President George Washington

“It is a fact that under equal conditions, large-scale battles and whole wars are won by troops which have a strong will for victory, clear goals before them, high moral standards, and devotion to the banner under which they go into battle.”
-General Georgy Zukhov

”One cannot permit unique opportunities to slip by for the sake of trifles.”
-General Erwin Rommel

”Now, there was a real soldier. A real man. A man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how great the odds, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty appeared at the time.”
-General George Patton

”We need no reason to fight. We fight because we are needed.”
-Commander John “Big Boss” Sears

”You’re a soldier. Finish your mission!
-“The Joy/The Boss” (true name unknown)

December 18, 2030, 10:54 Local Time/22:54 Military Local Time

33.1 miles/53.2 kilometers East off of the East Saranidian Border, Contested Isratine

Amen, I say to you, they stand here now.

A herd of various models of the M4A1(76)W, M4A4, and M4A3 Easy Eight-derived M50 and M51 Super Sherman, bought from or commanded by the Israeli Maccabean Resistance and remnants of their Defense Force- their French guns and upgraded engines in working order since the Six-Day War, and their Detroit-manufactured American bodies holding steadfast since their service on the Western Front, ready once more to take up one last battle.

A mass assembly of Panzer IV Ausf.J 10/BWs, some with Cold War-era Panzer 58 and Kanonenjagdpanzer retrofitted turrets and guns, the last of their species and captured from both the Free Syrian Army and from pro-Assad fighters after their importation from France and Danceria so many years ago- A proud species that were the dying remnants of a malevolent empire, their restored, caringly-engineered Maybachs and KwKs joined with old enemies to protect the bulwark of civilization.

A diverse collection of T-34-85s and T-34-85Ms, captured from various extremist insurgencies with ideologies ranging from Islamic terrorism to Communist warmongering around the Arabian peninsula and the Middle East- their Soviet hardware as confident, willing and loyal as it was when it rolled off of Leningrad’s factories so long ago to form the judging blade of St. Peter.

Sword and shield.
Guardians of steel.
Their armor and weapons polished to perfection once more, glittering like jewels.
They were all diamonds.
They are all diamonds.

Surely, they had lost many of their brethren and comrades. Some had fought hard. Some were lucky to see the back lines.
Whatever their circumstances, they were all here to fulfill their destiny, the purpose that ran through their orifices like blood before their birth.

They were here to fulfill their duties.
They were here to join their loved ones.

They were here to kill and destroy the evil.
They were here to protect and defend the weak.
They were here to finish the mission.

They were here to go to Outer Heaven.

...It wasn’t enough.
It would never be enough to stand down the merciless military machine that was Saranidia- flawed as the armor’s opponents may be.


They’d need support-
allies-
help-

And a damn lot of it.

So they lay in wait, their hulls lovingly maintained and kept ready by their plucky, young caretakers of disgruntled defectors and hero hopefuls, hidden in the rock formations and craters of the Makhtesh Ramon.

Counting the days- no, the hours.

Waiting for that help to arrive.

[National Revolutionaries of Saranidia]

/bump, OOC, please ignore

[National Revolutionaries of Saranidia]

/bump

[The Hindustani State]

Varanasi, Hindustan

President Yogi Adityanath was called into a meeting with his ministers regarding the situation in Saranidia. The current situation was highly unfavorable towards Hindustan, as the Suez canal belonged to a country which was extremely hostile to Hindustani interests. Hindustan’s goal was to gain Suez access somehow, by any means possible. It was safe to say that the situation was desperate. Simply calling thew canal important to Hindustan was an understatement, it was the sole port of access in which ships carrying exports from Hindustan could reach the West. The canal was basically Hindustan’s lifeline to much of its Western trading partners, and easy access to it was crucial to Hindustan’s economy.

And so with the situation now entering an opportunistic phase, the President took an interest in getting involved in a brewing potential rebellion in Saranidia.

"I suggest we try to negotiate a good deal diplomatically with Saranidia. We would really like to avoid a direct war, it’ll just mean the loss of lives of our soldiers and taking attention away from issues at home." The external affairs minister suggested.

"Minister, I’m afraid some actions need to be taken that may cause casualties, but are for the greater good of the country. Saranidia won’t give us a good deal, not in the near future at least. What’s the point of having an army if we don’t ever mobilize it fearing loss of lives? The canal is of utmost importance to us, but it sure won’t look good in the eye of the public. We’ll present ourselves as model Hindu warriors fighting a treacherous Islamic regime." Said the defence minister.

President Adityanath nodded, "Indeed. Not only will having a friendly force take the canal be massively beneficial to our economy, but it’ll be a solid PR move. Now that election campaigning has already started, we want to do whatever we can to make sure we get reelected, and this may improve our chances drastically. I think I know our course of action." President Adityanath said as he told the defence minister to get forces mobilized. He planned Hindustan to get directly involved…

[Diarcesia]

Diarcesia's main effort in Saranidia will be the so-called Archangel “rapier” mission, which will see the deployment of up to two special forces teams to the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of Saranidia. The operatives will be sent to either apprehend or eliminate an undisclosed number of targets deemed dangerous to the Monarchy—people who are about to do or have already done much damage to it and its citizens. The main planners already determined that there would be some operational overlap with Allanea, who are expected to send their own operatives.

"Rapier" missions, in reference to the stabbing nature of the weapon, are meant to be rapid strike operations meant to quickly accomplish a stated goal on selected targets. It was first used by the Arcana Forces (Diarcesia's special operations forces) in 2013, when it was discovered that a Shadow Turma commander was running a secret network of underground tunnels under a foreign city. Arcana Force operatives were sent into the tunnels to find and recover artifacts of war that were being kept as museums or used in military archives.

"This is a rapid response force, I need them on the spot."

One of the objectives that was already planned for the Archangel “rapier” was a search and apprehension mission, involving the Great General of Hetrica, who is Marked for Justice following heinous incidents during the New Randomnican Crisis in 2020.

Since then, the General has eluded the previous commando units the Monarchy has sent in pursuit. Efforts to locate him have so far proven fruitless, until now, and served as one of the black marks in the leadership of Phlegomy as Monarch Diarcesian.

"I can’t imagine the governments of the World Assembly providing such an inadequate response."

Teams Deployed
Arcana Force XVII: The Megas Oophus
Arcana Force XXI: The World Bearers (Apollonians)

[Kunkenga]

November 9th, 2030
Haliburton owned oil fields, somewhere in northern Iraq

The moonlight, unobscured by any light pollution, casts its pale blue aura against the dark desert sand. Searchlights pierce the darkness and reveal the pallid yellow terrain of the Iraqi desert and the wide eyed nocturnal animals that skittering about it. STRATGEN's Panther Unit 2 was one of two private military companies providing security for Haliburton's newest oil field. This was the third day of their contract and their first night watch. Two soldiers (PT Lemur and PT Killer Whale) were patrolling the oilfields chain-link perimeter, while another soldier (PS Barn Owl) was crouched high atop the steps of a sphere tank and monitoring the distance with an infrared scope. The last two members of Unit 2 (PC Harrier and PL Cobra) stood high atop watchtowers on either end of the facility and scanned the darkness with their searchlights

Nobody wanted to be here, not under the present circumstances at least. STRATGEN hadn't taken cooperative contracts since the company started, working on joint operations was always seen as child's play. But ever since STRATGEN's aerial assault unit massacred a United Nations peacekeeping detail in the DRC in 2028, their contracts had dried up. Now, two years on from the incident, financial constraints having limited STRATGEN's ability to field its forces in full, cooperative contracts had become their bread and butter.

Harrier couldn't even remember the last time his unit had done wet-work solo. Niger? Burkina Fasao? Maybe Chile? Those days were so far gone that they had all sort of melted together.

"All clear, running it again." came Lemur on his radio

"Gotcha, almost done with my route. All green so far." replied Killer Whale

Harrier turned to look behind him. In the immediate distance he saw Barn Owl scanning the horizon with his scope. Even further he saw Cobra, who appeared as only a silhouette against the brightness of his searchlight. He looked to be loading his gun although it was hard to tell, he then moved away from the searchlight and turned to face towards Harrier's watchtower.

Moments later, a small black square on Harrier's right shoulder began to flash a dull red light, and he heard a sharp ringtone from an earpiece in his right ear. This was the STRATCOM, a device designed for secret communication between STRATGEN units. The STRATCOM compressed all audio transmitted through its microphone and then quickly uncompressed it for the receiver in the form of rapid vibrations of the inner ear. This allowed for entirely silent communication over great distances that was unable to be tapped without possession of the receiving STRATCOM.

Harrier flicked a small dial on his STRATCOM and pressed his left ear closed to hear the message. He heard a cacophony of voices talking over one another almost like a crowded dinner party.

"What's going on?" said one voice

"Who is this, who dialed me?" came another

"Muskrat, is that you?" Asked another voice

Many voices sounded familiar and Harrier could have sworn he heard the voices of his unit somewhere in the crowd, looking back at them his suspicion was confirmed. Barn Owl was now standing and talking into his STRATCOM. Looking off the side of his watchtower Harrier could see Killer Whale leaning against the perimeter fence and laughing, far away on the opposite fence Lemur was making wild gestures and talking emphatically. Cobra remained where he had been, looking at Harrier in his watchtower from his.

"Attention!" came a rough voice, high above the others and unique in its thick southern twang. This was undeniably the voice of STRATGEN XO Major Limeade.

"Now, you're probably wondering why we've called you all at the same time" boomed the voice. This was followed by a low rumbling of confused voices and hushed questions.

"Every STRATGEN unit has been patched into this STRATCOM call, every single on from across the globe. I'm sure y'all know that we only do this when we have something very important to tell, and y'all can probably guess this is one those times. Big Brother wanted me to tell you that we just received what might be our biggest contract in our history, courtesy of the government of the United States. This is the big one fellas, this op is enough to take us out of the red and put us back on track. We're back baby! STRATGEN is officially back on the map!"

The call was filled with hooting applause, cheers, and periodic gunfire. Killer Whale, Lemur, and Barn Owl, who had been silent during Major Limeade's announcement were hollering and brandishing their rifles, much to the dismay of the sleeping contractors. Cobra, who had furtively lit a cigarette during the Major's speech sat on the edge of his watchtower with his feet dangling beside the ladder.

"That's what I like to hear!" yelled the major, "Now, all units save for Viper Unit 9 and Venom Units 3 and 4, are to report back to Fortress Central immediately upon the completion of their contracts for briefing and integration into the battleplans. Take it easy, and remember to do your due diligence until your contracts are up! Big Brother wants you all to come back home safe." With that, a three tone beep came from the STRATCOM, signifying the end of a call, and the cheering voices stopped.

"Alright, we've got two more weeks on this contract, get back to it boys." said Cobra over the radio as Killer Whale, Lemur, and Barn Owl stopped their celebration and slowly returned to their work. Killer Whale slung his rifle back on his shoulder and began walking his route, his actions mirrored on the opposite side of the facility by Lemur. Barn Owl returned to his crouch and flipped on his scope. Cobra gave a firm thumbs up to Harrier from his watchtower, to which Harrier saluted back. Only two more weeks.

Glossary: PANTHER (infantry unit), FANG (air assault and support unit), CLAW (armored assault and support unit), VENOM (hazardous materials unit), VIPER (infiltration unit), and PYTHON (intelligence unit), PT (PANTHER Trooper), PS (PANTHER Sniper), PC (PANTHER Commander), PL (PANTHER Leader)

[Valkiir]

The first units had yet to reach the battlefield as Sylar sat down and began his day. The Satcom Mirror site was already buzzing with activity it had been for a week straight with terabytes of data flowing into it from all corners of the globe every hour. Photo recon by drones sat images, dash cams from vehicle sin route, radar and electronic listening posts halfway around the world. The sheer volume of data being collected, processed, filtered, and analyzed, stressed the Mirror sites data network, and drove the air conditioning units cooling the underground center to the breaking point just to keep the computers and electronics from overheating.

"How's it going."

"Great, I can accurately tell you how many people do not realize squatting behind a dune does not keep someone from seeing you. The dark-skinned man snorted and began to run filters on the next batch of satellite imagery.

"Anything useful?" His supervisor asked with a glance over her wire-rim glasses.

"yes we have two camps that were put up in the last week, lots of engine heat form generators, and civilian vehicles, radio chatter, a few late-night bonfires, and ten tanker trucks parked under a camo net, tracks in the dirt seem to indicate an armored column drove through during the night.

"Any sign of the armor?"

No, nothing yet, we can see any new heat sources in open areas pretty well. But if they are driving along highways it's hard to pick out of routine traffic...the heat noise is pretty intense for a non-targeted sweep...the odds of the software spotting anything with all that traffic is pretty slim...its going to take human eyes, and a bit of luck to spot them if we don't have any idea where they are going..."

Fifty miles away in a similar complex a different tactic was being used. The systems were sorting social media, phone traffic, and news reports, for keywords, and certain images. while soldiers might not upload a video of their column in transit a clueless civilian might upload his cool video of he army driving through his town.

"Can someone please ban that tank game for a while..." one operator laughed as he looked at a list of false returns that seemed to be related to various online games involving military vehicles, and combat.


"At least you aren't stuck with monitoring the porn sites..." another operator grimaced and shook her head.

"War is hell" the first operator chuckled.

"I'm gonna need therapy before the end of this." She paused and then frowned." well that isn't what ya expect here." The woman paused, entered a series of commands, as the automated search engines flagged a file. "where can I go to join?... I want to fight.....use the program I sent you. they will be listening for us....don't message me again without using the program...."

"sounds like a ping..."

The woman smiled ad sent a message to their supervisors and routed the file and information on the people involved to the next level of analysis.

[Saranidia]

Armed Forces General HQ, Kallipolis
A number of staff officers: Colonels, Generals, Admirals, Air Marshals, Group Captains etc.
All meet to discuss a solution.

The Qayid Al-Junud* Khalid Al-Gaddafi, A graduate of Napoleon University and the Airforce Officers’ Academy said “In my personal opinion we need six stages:
1. Reduce the standing of the rebels in public opinion,

2.Continue with our mission for identification of suspects By Intelligence and each local company of the People’s Islamic Federal Police; making arrests when their is probable cause.

3. Military confrontation with the rebels,
Trials of captured leaders

4. Negotiation with moderate elements of the rebels

5. fighting what is left of the rebellion

6. A final peace deal, all factions being killed or captured or having surrendered

A relatively young(35 year old), female Colonel spoke out “Sir, these people won’t negotiate.
They are crazy, testosterone/oestrogen addled teenagers.
Many of them blame us for the fact they lost friends and family in war.”
Many other career officers nodded;
It would be a dark day ahead.

“Admirals, work on a plan to get to Cuba without getting the entire fleet killed or captured.” He said patronisingly,
Due to massive naval defeats, The Navy are stereotyped in Saranidia as brave fools.

*a military career officer with a position equivalent to both minister of defence and chief of general staff.

[Valkiir]

From: President John Rhictor Valkiiri.
To: The Honorable Sisterly Sultana Aisha Miriam Khan

During routine surveillance and research to combat various international threats, We have discovered, and it has now been confirmed your nation faces a serious threat to its stability and safety.

While we acknowledge like many nations, including our own your nation has many challenges and problems it must address, we fee that a singe sovereign and stable nation in that trouble region is preferable to a number of smaller, fragmented and unstable nations with no unifying identity or structure.

We are also worried by the possibility of Radical and violent fundamentalists, and aggressive political ideologues gaining a seat of power in the region.

We feel the best way to resolve the underlying difficulties of this current unrest is diplomacy and rational discourse. However, we feel this is not the likely outcome of the armed movement now rising in your Nation. To discourage armed conflict, and remove violent conflict as an option for the rebels The republic Of Valkiir wishes to offer both Materials, technical, and military assistance. Including troops and heavy units to deal with any groups who do not see reason and take the diplomatic route to a resolution of this situation.

Our presence will also serve to discourage direct assistance or military intervention by other foreign power, rouge elements or splinter factions of existing militant groups. To this end, I wish to Send an advisory team and planing group to examine possible alliance and assistance of your nation by our Armed forces. Swift and decisive action, making armed violence a non-option, may save many lives and prevent the spread of violence and instability in the region. WE hope you will seriously consider our offer and allow us to assist you.

Sincerely
President, Commander In Chief, Republic Of Valkiir
John Rhictor Valkiiri

[Saranidia]

Armed Forces General HQ, Kallipolis
A number of staff officers: Colonels, Generals, Admirals, Air Marshals, Group Captains etc.
All meet to discuss a solution.

The Qayid Al-Junud* Khalid Al-Gaddafi, A graduate of Napoleon University and the Airforce Officers’ Academy said “In my personal opinion we need six stages:
1. Reduce the standing of the rebels in public opinion,

2.Continue with our mission for identification of suspects By Intelligence and each local company of the People’s Islamic Federal Police; making arrests when their is probable cause.

3. Military confrontation with the rebels,
Trials of captured leaders

4. Negotiation with moderate elements of the rebels

5. fighting what is left of the rebellion

6. A final peace deal, all factions being killed or captured or having surrendered

A relatively young(35 year old), female Colonel spoke out “Sir, these people won’t negotiate.
They are crazy, testosterone/oestrogen addled teenagers.
Many of them blame us for the fact they lost friends and family in war.”
Many other career officers nodded;
It would be a dark day ahead.

“Admirals, work on a plan to get to Cuba without getting the entire fleet killed or captured.” He said patronisingly,
Due to massive naval defeats, The Navy are stereotyped in Saranidia as brave fools.

*a military career officer with a position equivalent to both minister of defence and chief of general staff.

The military began to undertake more hearts and minds work.
Members of the Army, Navy(including Marines), Airforce and Cyber-Warfare command were encouraged to go into schools(from primary to high school) and talk about their work even more than they used to.

There were also posters put up.
“We know we could do better, tell us how”
With an e-mail link for people to voice their complaints and suggestions.

[National Revolutionaries of Saranidia]

Two figures crept on their bellies, faces covered with masks. Desert fatigues covered their bodies, but under them were sportsmen’s compression sleeves and shirts. Monocular night-vision goggles were over their eyes.

A Saranidian soldier, AK in hand, peered out into the darkness with a watchful gaze- but could not find the intruder, one of which already had his integrally-suppressed Ruger Mk. II drawn and aimed.

A single crack, the clap-like report of a .22 Long Rifle round snapped through the air, leaving the sentry limp. Acting quickly as to muffle the sound, the two figures sprang forward and softly laid the body on the ground, before snapping a keycard off of the body’s lanyard and opening the door to the facility he was guarding.

Sneaking further into the darkened hallway, pistols and knives drawn, they stumbled across two other guards, facing the other way while engaged in deep conversation. A knife, slashed across one’s throat and the other knocked out against a wall, the pair of figures continued on.

Up the stairs they went, until they came across a heavy, locked set of double doors.
3... 2... 1...

One figure swiped the card, while the other wrenched the door open and advanced quickly with his pistol. Two rounds snapped towards one of the guards in the room, and his companion fell as the second intruder took him out with shots of his own.

The first man took off a satchel around his neck, opening it and inspecting it. Taking out two pins and inserting them into a clay-like substance, while the second man covered him-

A Saranidian guard, happening upon the scene, yelled, drawing his sidearm and firing into the air.

The lights sprang on, flooding the facility in bright glare.

Wahat Alhuriya, Contested Isratine
December 19, 4:35 Local Time

“Sloppy, sloppy; let’s try that again one more time. Should have moved the bodies so they aren’t in plain sight or taken them with you, and always check for their buddy, it’s logical for them to patrol in pairs. Forgetting the first guard’s buddy was a mistake- and dammit, pick up your shell casings so they don’t know you came in blasting.”

A voice came in over a megaphone, spoken by a lieutenant in a beret and fatigues.
The “Saranidi” guards stood back up with their weapons, bright-pink paint marks on them wherever they were “shot”.

“Abdul- you really have to watch it, next time you do that I’m actually going to get a fucking concussion.” A National Revolutionary infantryman who played the part of OPFOR groaned, shaking his head and caressing where he’d been shoved into the wall. “It’s a simulation; please realize that.”

“Quit bitching, Mohamad.” One of the infiltrators remarked, as both of them cleared their pistols and put them back in their holsters, waiting for orders from the lieutenant.

“Everyone, back to their positions, we’re doing this one more time until the damn Hussein brothers improve on their garbage!”

“Yes, sir!” Everyone called and saluted, before doing as instructed.

[Diarcesia]

11 October 2030

Ploearch[1] Richard Caspar Rangabe called everyone to attention in the room. A handbook was in his hand, and Rangabe, a young man for someone of his rank and wearing a blue suit and white gloves, stood before a dozen or so others in field attire. He was accompanied by at least one assistant, who handed over similar handbooks to the rest in the room.

"Based on recent information gathered by our sources, the 'Great' General of Hetrica is hiding out near the city of Acre in Contested Isratine, officially within jurisdiction of Saranidia. Practically? A hornet's nest of very angry men. Naturally, a good lair for him. Safety in numbers. But are they really so certain of their security? And when found, are they going to put up a fight? I’d guess so. The question is, how likely are they to encounter the calculated fury of the few, but determined people who call themselves the Arcana Force?"

"I’d guess they will," one of the operatives said. "We’d have to see to it that the General is finally captured, or he will continue to get away with his crimes. They have the resources, even if not fully realized, and he can always rely on the support of his loyalists. The question is, how likely are they to use them."

"Do you have a breakdown of the sources of our information?" another operative raised his hand.

"The sources are classified, but I can give you some idea. The General is a man of few words, and his excursions to the outside world are few and far between. Imagine how you would get your necessities without someone across the world sniffing your trail."

"I understand that. I would appreciate the fact that—"

"Moving on. Just remember, the information you need is in your handbook. And the way we get them can be dangerous." Rangabe let out a little smirk, and a few chuckled. A few seconds of silence followed before the Ploearch took the cue. "Oh, I see. I see you have some catching up to do."

He proceeded to summarize the details of the operation to capture the General, as outlined in the handbook. Intended to be a single stone to hit multiple birds, the Hetrican is not the Archangel Rapier operation's only quarry: there's more on the way. He gave preliminary briefings on where the General stays, the options on how to gain entry to this area, and how the operatives are to get to their target once they are in.

After that, one of the room's doors are opened at Rangabe's instruction, leading the way to an underground chamber. Men in black coats waited in groups, wearing dark suits and ties. A command center.

Inside, the dark-suited men made their way to their stations. A steady stream of data are displayed in its many screens, each man responsible to a facet of it. A crude schematic of the facility was made, showing the locations of the various rooms and the number of operatives who would be entering them.

On the schematic, which Rangabe kept open, were displayed the coordinates of the nearest open access entry point. Hovering over them were displayed the projected times for the teams to arrive at this point, with an additional estimate of the number of minutes it would take for the assigned operatives to finish their individual task.

"Goes to the minute after midnight," Rangabe said, "when we get word from the outside world. They say it gets better with every passing hour, but inside the General's lair, things mentally slow down considerably. The estimates of the time it would take for the team to accomplish the mission are probably conservative. They say it would take two hours for the first wave to reach them, but it could be as long as three. And the fleets, we also take into account the distance from Diarcesia."

"How do we handle the fact that we'd be 20 days away by ship from home?"

"We could always use a few more ships," Rangabe replied. "In addition to the helicopter carrier jumping point, we will also have some other ships forming a relay from there, just enough for transporters to hop from one to the other."

"The ability to jump from one ship to the next," Operative Tyl amplified, "is one of the things that make us unique. Other than that, we have a fairly standard blue-water navy, consisting of transport ships, air drops, and so on."

"That will be a contingency. We have a month allotted for training and mission-specific simulations before we head out to Saranidia."

[1] Fleet Captain (OF-5)

[Saranidia]

Two figures crept on their bellies, faces covered with masks. Desert fatigues covered their bodies, but under them were sportsmen’s compression sleeves and shirts. Monocular night-vision goggles were over their eyes.

A Saranidian soldier, AK in hand, peered out into the darkness with a watchful gaze- but could not find the intruder, one of which already had his integrally-suppressed Ruger Mk. II drawn and aimed.

A single crack, the clap-like report of a .22 Long Rifle round snapped through the air, leaving the sentry limp. Acting quickly as to muffle the sound, the two figures sprang forward and softly laid the body on the ground, before snapping a keycard off of the body’s lanyard and opening the door to the facility he was guarding.

Sneaking further into the darkened hallway, pistols and knives drawn, they stumbled across two other guards, facing the other way while engaged in deep conversation. A knife, slashed across one’s throat and the other knocked out against a wall, the pair of figures continued on.

Up the stairs they went, until they came across a heavy, locked set of double doors.
3... 2... 1...

One figure swiped the card, while the other wrenched the door open and advanced quickly with his pistol. Two rounds snapped towards one of the guards in the room, and his companion fell as the second intruder took him out with shots of his own.

The first man took off a satchel around his neck, opening it and inspecting it. Taking out two pins and inserting them into a clay-like substance, while the second man covered him-

A Saranidian guard, happening upon the scene, yelled, drawing his sidearm and firing into the air.

The lights sprang on, flooding the facility in bright glare.

Wahat Alhuriya, Contested Isratine
December 19, 4:35 Local Time

“Sloppy, sloppy; let’s try that again one more time. Should have moved the bodies so they aren’t in plain sight or taken them with you, and always check for their buddy, it’s logical for them to patrol in pairs. Forgetting the first guard’s buddy was a mistake- and dammit, pick up your shell casings so they don’t know you came in blasting.”

A voice came in over a megaphone, spoken by a lieutenant in a beret and fatigues.
The “Saranidi” guards stood back up with their weapons, bright-pink paint marks on them wherever they were “shot”.

“Abdul- you really have to watch it, next time you do that I’m actually going to get a fucking concussion.” A National Revolutionary infantryman who played the part of OPFOR groaned, shaking his head and caressing where he’d been shoved into the wall. “It’s a simulation; please realize that.”

“Quit bitching, Mohamad.” One of the infiltrators remarked, as both of them cleared their pistols and put them back in their holsters, waiting for orders from the lieutenant.

“Everyone, back to their positions, we’re doing this one more time until the damn Hussein brothers improve on their garbage!”

“Yes, sir!” Everyone called and saluted, before doing as instructed.

A real Al-Saranidi Gendarme was patrolling as part of a Civilian Protection Force.
He could not see them but he did hear people yell “garbage!” And “yes sir!” As well as a megaphone sound.
His patrol, composed of his Sergeant, his Lieutenant and a PFLP company radioed the Al-Saranidi Lieutenant Colonel “Sahib, suspicious activities going on involving men speaking in Al-Saranidi accents.” Said the Lieutenant.
“Permission to engage” said the Sergeant
“Denied for now patrol around the area until reinforcements arrive then we will engage.

[The Hindustani State]

Hindustani Parliament

The parliament sat in silence as the president completed his speech, "In conclusion, Al-Saranidia has been detrimental to the world as a whole. Their fundamentalist Islamic regime needs to be replaced. And this is why I propose the motion to declare war." President Adityanath finished.

The proposal was hefty, and decisive. It would end in a celebrated victory or a disastrous loss. It would be seen as wasted lives for nothing, or the toppling of a radical Islamic regime in the Middle East. The speaker of the parliaments began voting procedure,

"Thank you Mr. President. This parliament, under the wise guidance of His Holiness and the Gods, shall now enter voting procedure on a motion to declare war on the Sultanate of Saranidia."

Absolute silence was present in the parliament, some MPs were stunned, some were excited.

"All those in against." The speaker remarked

Almost every single opposition party MP went up, notably MPs of the Bajrang Dal, the isolationist party that was the primary opposition to the ruling RSS. 271 votes against.

"All those in favor"

Every RSS MP went up, 20 members of the Shaivist Party also went up. 288 in favor. Just short of the majority.

"All those abstaining."

The two MPs of the Dhivehi Front went up. Two abstentions lowered the number required to pass from 290 to… 288.

The magnitude of the moment set in. For the first time in the 21st century, Hindustan had declared war.

---

Syria

A division of 10,000 troops, armed with INSAS rifles, on water troop transports were dispatched to land in Saranidia from Hindustan’s Syrian military base. They would be escorted by two corvettes, and would bring humvees and jeep transports with them.

A group of messengers were also sent to Israel/Palestine to see out the revolutionaries, particularly the liberal faction. They would attempt to land south of Haifa

[Saranidia]

Hindustani Parliament
(Image)

The parliament sat in silence as the president completed his speech, "In conclusion, Al-Saranidia has been detrimental to the world as a whole. Their fundamentalist Islamic regime needs to be replaced. And this is why I propose the motion to declare war." President Adityanath finished.

The proposal was hefty, and decisive. It would end in a celebrated victory or a disastrous loss. It would be seen as wasted lives for nothing, or the toppling of a radical Islamic regime in the Middle East. The speaker of the parliaments began voting procedure,

"Thank you Mr. President. This parliament, under the wise guidance of His Holiness and the Gods, shall now enter voting procedure on a motion to declare war on the Sultanate of Saranidia."

Absolute silence was present in the parliament, some MPs were stunned, some were excited.

"All those in against." The speaker remarked

Almost every single opposition party MP went up, notably MPs of the Bajrang Dal, the isolationist party that was the primary opposition to the ruling RSS. 271 votes against.

"All those in favor"

Every RSS MP went up, 20 members of the Shaivist Party also went up. 288 in favor. Just short of the majority.

"All those abstaining."

The two MPs of the Dhivehi Front went up. Two abstentions lowered the number required to pass from 290 to… 288.

The magnitude of the moment set in. For the first time in the 21st century, Hindustan had declared war.

---

Syria

A division of 10,000 troops, armed with INSAS rifles, on water troop transports were dispatched to land in Saranidia from Hindustan’s Syrian military base. They would be escorted by two corvettes, and would bring humvees and jeep transports with them.

Stung by their reputation as bumbling fools the Navy organised coastal patrols follow meticulous strategies.
Satellites operated by the Space Force on behalf of Section Two of The Military Intelligence Force noticed the boats.
A squadron of planes was deployed to Syria to blast them out of the water.

[Saranidia]

Hindustani Parliament
(Image)

The parliament sat in silence as the president completed his speech, "In conclusion, Al-Saranidia has been detrimental to the world as a whole. Their fundamentalist Islamic regime needs to be replaced. And this is why I propose the motion to declare war." President Adityanath finished.

The proposal was hefty, and decisive. It would end in a celebrated victory or a disastrous loss. It would be seen as wasted lives for nothing, or the toppling of a radical Islamic regime in the Middle East. The speaker of the parliaments began voting procedure,

"Thank you Mr. President. This parliament, under the wise guidance of His Holiness and the Gods, shall now enter voting procedure on a motion to declare war on the Sultanate of Saranidia."

Absolute silence was present in the parliament, some MPs were stunned, some were excited.

"All those in against." The speaker remarked

Almost every single opposition party MP went up, notably MPs of the Bajrang Dal, the isolationist party that was the primary opposition to the ruling RSS. 271 votes against.

"All those in favor"

Every RSS MP went up, 20 members of the Shaivist Party also went up. 288 in favor. Just short of the majority.

"All those abstaining."

The two MPs of the Dhivehi Front went up. Two abstentions lowered the number required to pass from 290 to… 288.

The magnitude of the moment set in. For the first time in the 21st century, Hindustan had declared war.

---

Syria

A division of 10,000 troops, armed with INSAS rifles, on water troop transports were dispatched to land in Saranidia from Hindustan’s Syrian military base. They would be escorted by two corvettes, and would bring humvees and jeep transports with them.

A group of messengers were also sent to Israel/Palestine to see out the revolutionaries, particularly the liberal faction. They would attempt to land south of Haifa

Meanwhile the Al-Saranidi police organised a crackdown on looting.

[Saranidia]

Two figures crept on their bellies, faces covered with masks. Desert fatigues covered their bodies, but under them were sportsmen’s compression sleeves and shirts. Monocular night-vision goggles were over their eyes.

A Saranidian soldier, AK in hand, peered out into the darkness with a watchful gaze- but could not find the intruder, one of which already had his integrally-suppressed Ruger Mk. II drawn and aimed.

A single crack, the clap-like report of a .22 Long Rifle round snapped through the air, leaving the sentry limp. Acting quickly as to muffle the sound, the two figures sprang forward and softly laid the body on the ground, before snapping a keycard off of the body’s lanyard and opening the door to the facility he was guarding.

Sneaking further into the darkened hallway, pistols and knives drawn, they stumbled across two other guards, facing the other way while engaged in deep conversation. A knife, slashed across one’s throat and the other knocked out against a wall, the pair of figures continued on.

Up the stairs they went, until they came across a heavy, locked set of double doors.
3... 2... 1...

One figure swiped the card, while the other wrenched the door open and advanced quickly with his pistol. Two rounds snapped towards one of the guards in the room, and his companion fell as the second intruder took him out with shots of his own.

The first man took off a satchel around his neck, opening it and inspecting it. Taking out two pins and inserting them into a clay-like substance, while the second man covered him-

A Saranidian guard, happening upon the scene, yelled, drawing his sidearm and firing into the air.

The lights sprang on, flooding the facility in bright glare.

Wahat Alhuriya, Contested Isratine
December 19, 4:35 Local Time

“Sloppy, sloppy; let’s try that again one more time. Should have moved the bodies so they aren’t in plain sight or taken them with you, and always check for their buddy, it’s logical for them to patrol in pairs. Forgetting the first guard’s buddy was a mistake- and dammit, pick up your shell casings so they don’t know you came in blasting.”

A voice came in over a megaphone, spoken by a lieutenant in a beret and fatigues.
The “Saranidi” guards stood back up with their weapons, bright-pink paint marks on them wherever they were “shot”.

“Abdul- you really have to watch it, next time you do that I’m actually going to get a fucking concussion.” A National Revolutionary infantryman who played the part of OPFOR groaned, shaking his head and caressing where he’d been shoved into the wall. “It’s a simulation; please realize that.”

“Quit bitching, Mohamad.” One of the infiltrators remarked, as both of them cleared their pistols and put them back in their holsters, waiting for orders from the lieutenant.

“Everyone, back to their positions, we’re doing this one more time until the damn Hussein brothers improve on their garbage!”

“Yes, sir!” Everyone called and saluted, before doing as instructed.

OOC: are any of those Soldier real?
If so how do you control them?

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

Two figures crept on their bellies, faces covered with masks. Desert fatigues covered their bodies, but under them were sportsmen’s compression sleeves and shirts. Monocular night-vision goggles were over their eyes.

A Saranidian soldier, AK in hand, peered out into the darkness with a watchful gaze- but could not find the intruder, one of which already had his integrally-suppressed Ruger Mk. II drawn and aimed.

A single crack, the clap-like report of a .22 Long Rifle round snapped through the air, leaving the sentry limp. Acting quickly as to muffle the sound, the two figures sprang forward and softly laid the body on the ground, before snapping a keycard off of the body’s lanyard and opening the door to the facility he was guarding.

Sneaking further into the darkened hallway, pistols and knives drawn, they stumbled across two other guards, facing the other way while engaged in deep conversation. A knife, slashed across one’s throat and the other knocked out against a wall, the pair of figures continued on.

Up the stairs they went, until they came across a heavy, locked set of double doors.
3... 2... 1...

One figure swiped the card, while the other wrenched the door open and advanced quickly with his pistol. Two rounds snapped towards one of the guards in the room, and his companion fell as the second intruder took him out with shots of his own.

The first man took off a satchel around his neck, opening it and inspecting it. Taking out two pins and inserting them into a clay-like substance, while the second man covered him-

A Saranidian guard, happening upon the scene, yelled, drawing his sidearm and firing into the air.

The lights sprang on, flooding the facility in bright glare.

Wahat Alhuriya, Contested Isratine
December 19, 4:35 Local Time

“Sloppy, sloppy; let’s try that again one more time. Should have moved the bodies so they aren’t in plain sight or taken them with you, and always check for their buddy, it’s logical for them to patrol in pairs. Forgetting the first guard’s buddy was a mistake- and dammit, pick up your shell casings so they don’t know you came in blasting.”

A voice came in over a megaphone, spoken by a lieutenant in a beret and fatigues.
The “Saranidi” guards stood back up with their weapons, bright-pink paint marks on them wherever they were “shot”.

“Abdul- you really have to watch it, next time you do that I’m actually going to get a fucking concussion.” A National Revolutionary infantryman who played the part of OPFOR groaned, shaking his head and caressing where he’d been shoved into the wall. “It’s a simulation; please realize that.”

“Quit bitching, Mohamad.” One of the infiltrators remarked, as both of them cleared their pistols and put them back in their holsters, waiting for orders from the lieutenant.

“Everyone, back to their positions, we’re doing this one more time until the damn Hussein brothers improve on their garbage!”

“Yes, sir!” Everyone called and saluted, before doing as instructed.

OOC: are any of those Soldier real?
If so how do you control them?

OOC: They're not your troops. They're insurgents acting as your troops for the purpose of training their fellow insurgents.

[Saranidia]

OOC: are any of those Soldier real?
If so how do you control them?

OOC: They're not your troops. They're insurgents acting as your troops for the purpose of training their fellow insurgents.

OOC: I understand.

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

OOC: This was a joint post with Danceria.

November 29-Abdullah Al-Hafez-Platform V, Baltic Sea

This had been a long time coming.
Several barrels full of pressurized of Sarin gas currently sat inside of one of the sleeping quarters of the platform. “Traceless” rifles had been acquired and stashed, to avoid attracting the attention of the armorers and gunsmiths of Unit 777.

Now, all that lay between them and paradise was a single call. It would release the gas into the base, hopefully killing enough that any survivors would be easy work. There was also word of a group of Exodians who would provide support and help them sink the rig into the sea once they were done…

Malá Strana, Prague-December, 2030
It was another crisp, snowy day in one of the oldest and most prestigious cities of Europe. The cozy castle was fogged between the warmth of the hearth and home within, and the chilly air without. Typing away at a laptop was a man, grey eyed and brown haired with well worn finery denoting his royal status. But if you asked him, he was just “working from home”, or rather, finishing up work. Being the Prince-Regent of an equally stubborn father meant sneaking in credentials and accomplishments when his father didn’t notice. Besides, he had to do something, to keep himself busy… but that was just par for the course for “Good Prince” Jan.

He would scoff at the title and any ensuing foot-scraping, he was just an average bloke perhaps a bit too old to be considered rambunctious, and Moravaria’s most prominent stay-at-home dad. It’d been a decade...and what a whirlwind those years were. Perhaps he’ll be lucky to catch a glimpse of the missus while he made himself cocoa.

Nobody was “too old” for cocoa, dammit. Jan thought to himself Plus… I’m the king-well, king in all but name, God bless my stubborn father. The Přemysl-Zápolyas fought hard to wrangle their homeland from the powers of Austria and the USSR, and they’ll be keeping their crown this time ‘round thank you very much.
A quiet clink came from the kitchen, and a blonde woman-seemingly in her late twenties to early thirties-entered, carrying two steaming-hot mugs of cocoa.

Ah, Anne Byrnes, Princess of Moravia. Technically “Princess Byrnes, Baronetess of Moore of Colchester, Thane of Fife”...or at least, she was until about 15 years ago.

“Morning, honey…” She gave a loud yawn, and rubbed her eyes with her arm. “...or is it afternoon?”
Jan rose and gave her a peck on the cheek, and slyly took the mug. “An’ here I was hopin’ to take care of everything while you were out…”
She took a seat beside Jan. “Well, a girl’s gotta have something to do...Erika’s still sleeping, so I figured I might as well make some ‘fore she woke up.”
“Make one extra, she has a sweet tooth.” he would chuckle and walk out of the office, heading over to the kitchen.

---

The domestic tranquility of the House of Přemysl-Zápolya-Byrnes was far removed from that in Moravaria’s halls of power.

A single red phone stood upon the nightstand of old King Vladislav, the third of that name. By the Grace of God, King of the Czechs, the Slovaks and the Magyars, and a man who had seen much of Moravaria’s peaceful infancy since the Iron Curtain fell...and now that peace was no more. No more could Moravaria remain the “humble tinkerer of Europe”.

The began to ring, the shrill, incessant tone screeching for a response.

The aged, greying, flaking hand snatched around the red phone like the chill of a bitter winter, and with a rich voice answered it. “Crassus...I’m so sorry.” came the tone, sorrowful and somber. The two nations of Prussia-Poland and Moravaria were like twin brothers, sandwiched between nations before carving out ones of their own. As such, the leaders of these countries were not the distant professionalism needed, but spoke as friends-nay, family. It had been a month since the incident and...he still couldn’t believe it.

”Cut the crap, Matt. Rev up the engines. We’re going to war. Everyone’s been itching for a fight, ever since those fucks declared that they were doing it for ‘Mother Saranidia’...The bill’s just passed two houses of the Sejm, and I’m about to sign it. House of Lords is basically guaranteed to pass it... We’re deploying what’s left of Unit 777 and a brigade of Fusiliers to begin with.”

He nodded, Crassus was a man when times were tough, was moved to anger more so than sorrow. That rage had been building up, and already the populace stood with the Prusso-Poles. All that remained was Parliament to hammer out the finer details. “The Crapshooters of Kaliopolis won’t be alone. Before me is a Royal Decree, to circumvent any bureaucracy when it comes to this war...it will be just like the Vistula.” the Czech king sighed. “Of course, Jan wants to be there on the front lines, he’s been tearing into Saranidia ever since he got word…boy’s got a family and he still wants to gallivant away. But don’t make any mistakes, Crassus. We’ll be there. Either in the guns, or as the men who shoots them.”
“Thank you, my friend.”
“You only had to ask.”

Sejm, Warsaw-December, 2030

The King looked around in silence.

“We will now proceed to a vote…” droned the Speaker.
This was the House of Lords-Prussia-Poland’s hereditary aristocratic landowners, traditionally those most opposed to any war or foreign engagement. Ordinarily they were of little importance-except, of course, during “momentous occasions”...such as declaring war. The decleration had passed the House of Commons and the Upper House with little difficulty. It was obvious the people wanted war. The dead orphans of Children’s Home No. 2...the Archbishop of Krakow staring down gunmen with naught but his staff and Catechism...the Saranidian flag flying from Wawel Cathedral, and from that accursed oil rig in the Baltics, even if it was for only a day or two… The Saranidans, or at least, their out-of-control and foolish agents, had struck at the beating heart and soul of Prussia-Poland. There was no way in hell that they would not attempt to seek retribution.

A voice started Crassus, and he looked up.

A single nobleman stood. “Greater Poland pledges it’s troops.”
A second rose. “Pomerania pledges it’s troops.”

“Gdynia pledges it’s troops.”
“Lesser Poland pledges it’s troops…”

And on and on.
“So far all in favor, none against..." noted the Speaker. He turned to Crassus. "...Very well. Your Majesty?”

Crassus slowly stood. “Masovia and Prussia pledges it’s troops.”

STATES IN FAVOR
-Voivodeship of Greater Poland
-Kingdom of Prussia/Duchy of Masovia
-Grand Duchy of Lesser Poland
-Duchy of Silesia
-Duchy of Pomerania
-Margraviate of Lublin
-Royal City and Lordship of Konigsberg
-Free City and Lordship of Gdansk
-Free City and Lordship of Gdynia
-Royal City and Prince-Archbishoporic of Gniezo
-Royal City and Prince-Archbishoporic of Krakow
-Royal City and Prince-Archbishoporic of Częstochowa.
STATES AGAINST
Null.

And just like that, war was declared. Within rapid succession, the Kingdom of Bavaria(ruled by King Rupprecht/Robert I) and the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies(ruled by Ferdinand III) would declare war on Saranidia as well.

There would be no movement of ground troops towards the Middle East just yet. However, a brigade of infantry from the 1st Fusilier Division, 1st Corps, would go on alert.

Quickly and quietly, the Strait of Gibraltar was sealed off by the Royal Sicilian Navy. Several destroyers and attack submarines now prowled the Strait or were headed there, and would sink any Saranidian ship without warning or hesitation. The air-forces of these countries became active as well, sealing off their country's airspace to any air traffic that was not identified and cleared beforehand, or which refused to answer hails.

Less quiet, though, were the church bells of Prussia-Poland. Rarely did they ring outside of their appointed bounds-but they rung now, just like they did on that fateful August day in 1944, and many times before. Similar bells rang out across Bavaria and Sicily, recalling the War of Liberation in 1813, or the uprisings of the Sanfedismo.

[Diarcesia]

October 2030
Near Acre, Contested Isratine

The General had managed to cobble together a force of around-the-clock fighters from across Isratine, from both genders. "A gender-segregated company, though?", he asked, as he sits on his couch and drinks a bottle of his favorite liquor "I wonder if it will be any easier for us to put up a fight against a force as strong as the Saranidian rebels".

Ten years is a long time for him to be holed up in some form of bunker or compound. He mused about the time he realized that his blasted Admiral is about to show his true colors, when he sent for his body double during one of the meetings in their secret locations, and when the Admiral unceremoniously stabbed the double in the process. It was all in the news: "The Great General is now dead. DEFCON lowered to 1," but some of those he angered, especially the Diarcesians, knew better than that. Ever since that moment, he is either on the run or stays put where he is. What's he called now, again? He now forgot some of the earlier aliases that he adopted.

"Just here by yourself, aren't you?" a woman asked him as he put the mug down. Being married to a local in such a state of life amuses him. "Is there anything you want?" she continued.

"I just wanted to make sure I wasn't being spied on."

"By God, stop being paranoid. You know the drill."

"Being paranoid is how I am still BREATHING at this moment," the General raised his voice, but then calmed down quickly. His temper was one of those things that has somewhat subsided since the days of weapons of mass destruction falling on hapless civilians with nought but his word. "I can’t let them get the better of me!" he exclaimed softly, "and I’ll have to go check on that bomb shelter somewhere."

When he got back to his room an hour later, he took one look at the time.

11:48 PM

Do I want to go to sleep or not? he thought.

Whatever that decision is will then be final. Once he gets up, he will start his routine. He will stay in his room and change into his Hetrican uniform. Then he will drink Turkish coffee and eat breakfast with his companions. He will remain in his room for the rest of the morning, when he gets to stroll in his courtyard.

A few kilometers away, another man wishes he can make a similar decision. Duty calls however, and he extinguishes this thought.

"End of the day. Routine of Blond Badger is finished, all according to report," the camouflaged man said on his comm device as the building his night-visor is trained on closed all its lights.

---

December 2030
Atlantic Ocean, near the Strait of Gibraltar, after the Polish-Prussian Commonwealth declared war

A Diarcesian transport plane carrying 16 people on board cruises toward the Mediterranean sea, escorted by two FL-7 Argo fighters. Their destination ship is the first friendly carrier stationed between the Balearics and Algeria.

The sea beneath them was calm, with no signs of movement. The air was crisp and cold. There was no wind, not even gusts of any kind. It is turning winter now, and the sky is still, a stretch of blue and free of clouds beneath the tropopause.

The passengers and crew were warm, and the ship had all the necessities to keep them fresh, if not comfortable.

The crew were mostly former criminals, given a second chance at a clean life, who had found employment in the Navy. This is good work for them. Some were once petty criminals, but most were just poor people who had to steal to make ends meet.

One such person was Hans-Günther Hauptmann, a former circus freak from Wochaystein who had been living on a small amount of money that he had inherited from his father. He had worked hard to get to where he was, and had been too ashamed to recall his past mistakes.

He was now co-pilot in the transporter.

"I'm seeing some naval traffic ahead of us. Eleven o'clock." Hauptmann received the message from one of the Argo escorts. "Several ships of some foreign fleet. Could be more. It looks like they're aiming to blockade the strait."

"Copy that. What do we do?" Hauptmann replied.

"We just stay in course. And expect to be hailed if they have planes with them. Could be one of the belligerents in the new war."

[Valkiir]

The president's Phone and laptop began to chirp, bleet, and yowl in a cacophony of alerts as he snapped awake setting with his granddaughter in his lap. He had dozed off reading her stories in his office. She had obliged by falling soundly asleep at the same time.

M"Mr president we have an....issue." Hs aid took the squirming girl and put her across his shoulder while the president turned off his crisis alerts." You told everyone to keep you up to date on the issue with the Saranidian situation.

"Polish Prussian Commonwealth declares war on Saranidia " The president flipped his tablet round to show the crawl going along the bottom of the VBN feed.

"sir we have also detected several warships and submarines sortieing from PPC bases extremely high chatter, and aircraft being deployed...they aren't..."


"task Force 23?" the president asked?

"Sixteen Hours From Gibraltar moving at 28 knots."

"Task Force 38?" Thepesiden was already opening highly secure and triple encrypted communications lines between himself and a dozen officers and senators he had chosen to be his advisors on the situation...

"Six Hours out, making 30 knots."

"Sir until we know more we should hold outside the Straight." A naval officer suggested looking up into the camera above his desk, his face and voice slightly distorted by encryption and burst transmission protocols.

"signal task force 38, make passage through Gibraltar at the soonest possible moment. Do not engage in any actions that could be construed as aggressive and maintain standard air patrols, and submarine screens as per standard maritime operations dictate."The president paused." Admiral, instruct your people not to give any sign they are on anything but a "show the flag" operation. We haven't made any public comment so far so odds of them knowing we are interested in the situation is fairly remote.

"If they fire on our ships." The Admiral asked.

"Defend yourself and your command." The president spoke after a moment."If they want a fight with Valkiir, then Reduce the size of the Polish Prussian presence accordingly. You have the authorization to call on long-range strategic and short-range missile and airstrikes on any hostile warship." the submarines of Task Force 38 will provide anti-ship support should that be needed. "

"sir perhaps you should let the Admiralty call this one?" A senator suggested as he joined the conference" I know you have a lot of experience in land warfare but..."

"They have no valid reason to deny neutral forces freedom of navigation, it is not their territorial waters, and we are not a belligerent nation." The president noted"They might suspect we are up to something, they may want to fire, but if they fire its a declaration of war on valkiir...and honestly I doubt they want to take on a first-rank military. as long as we do not provoke them, and they have some shred of sanity they will not fire."
The President paused and made mental notes as he looked over the streams of data an news reports flowing across the screens on the wall and his desk" Just When I thought I was out, they pull me back in... John get me the Polish Prussian Commonwealth Ambassador on the line, and if possible get me on the line with whoever is running the circus over there....and get me on the line directly with Saranidia"

"Maybe we ought to let this go Mister president" The senator Suggested." It's not our circus, it's not our monkeys..."

"It went hot fast, how long do you think it will be before more people jump into the fight. if we don't get into a position to make fighting damn near impossible. We are going to see a lot of people die. Since world war one that region has been one war after another. Until someone brings it entirely under control and puts a foot on all the hotheads it's going to stay a horror show."

"And we are picking who gets to run it?" the senator asked bluntly.

"We're casting our vote. Other nations are free to cast theirs, they just have to be willing to live with the price of having a say in this" The president looked at the fairy tale collection he had been reading." "I was having a very nice day up till now."

Task Force 23:
HMS Leviathan BBN(g) Nuclear powered Hypersonic anti-shipping and ground attack missile-armed fast battleship
HMS Wrath: Kirov Class cruiser
Six Destroyers 4 Anti Air, 2 anti-sub
2 Hunter Killer submarines escorting

Task Force 23:
Aircraft Carrier: HMS Scythe CVN Nuclear powered fleet carrier (Nimitz Clone)
HMS Ruin: Kirov Class cruiser
HMS Resolve: Aegis type Cruiser
Six Destroyers 4 Anti Air, 2 anti-sub
2 Hunter Killer submarines escorting

Leviathan Class Fast Battleship

The Leviathan class is a heavily upgraded, enhanced and rebuilt fast battleship. It is intended to act as a mobile command station, Theatre support vessel and long-range bombardment platform. It has the air and sntisub defenses to allow it to survive a concentrated attack by any but the heaviest anti-ship missiles and torpedoes and is heavily compartmentalized to prevent heavy damage from sinking the vessel

Length: 728 ft 8.625 in (222.113 m)
Beam: 108 ft 3.875 in (33.017 m)
Power: Twin Nuclear reactors ( retrofitted)
Speed: 26.8 knots (49.6 km/h; 30.8 mph)


Crew: 144 officers, 900 men 250 Marines

Armor
Sides
5 inches (125mm)RHA steel
with
1500mm RHA equivalent Chobham composite armor (Retrofitted)
Deck: 400mm RHA Equivalent Chobham composite ( retrofitted)
Conning tower: 1000mm RHA equivalent composite armor

Weapons:
x6 16 inch guns
10 125mm rifled Naval Autocannon
8 CIWS
6 Rolling Airframe Missile Launchers
10 twin 40mm Radar Directed Bofors guns
10 twin 25mm autocannon
8 .50 caliber Miniguns in remote turrets
2 × 60 cell vertical launch for anti-air/anti-ship missiles ( mission configured)
2x 24 cell launchers KKM-1 Shaitain Hypersonic Vertical attack Anti-ship Missile.
4x 24 Cruise missile vertical launch cells.
10 20Km radius EMP warheads
5 0.5 Kiloton Nuclear Warheads
12 Airburst submunition warheads
12 High explosive deep penetration warheads.

16-inch Munitions
High explosive
High Explosive fragmentation Airburst
Armor Piercing Deep penetration
Submunition High Explosive fragmentation
Submunition Kinetic Energy penetrators
Submunition Anti Armor
Submunition Air scattered mines
MkIII 0.5 Kiloton Tactical Thermonuclear projectiles

All 16-inch shells can be fitted with rocket assist GPS guided Booster units extending the range to 65 Kilometers

The Mk III projectile is a rocket-assisted Guided projectile carrying a 0.5 Kiloton nuclear device with an effective range of 100 Kilometers

[Allanea]

Cabinet meeting, somewhere in the Free Kingdom of Allanea

"Maverick, I want your honest opinion." – said Cassiopeia, looking at the man in the gray suit. He was Maverick Monningham, the Free Kingdom's Minister of Foreign Affairs. "It is my instinct that this is just a new outburst of Middle Eastern third-world nonsense, where the only thing it'll bring to anybody in the region is more death, more destruction, more poverty and more suffering. Where am I wrong?"

The Minister of Foreign Affairs took less than a second in contemplating the Queen's question. "Absolutely nowhere. The situation cannot be made better by foreign intervention, no matter how many resources are applied or how many soldiers we send or what checks we sign to what group."

"I see." – she nodded. "Priscilla, I understand that you disagree?"

"I agree absolutely, in the sense that there's not an opportunity for us to make it a peaceful or stable place without an elaborate project that would require us to turn disproportionate levels of attention, effort, and resources to the problem. But I do believe that there is a need for our very limited participation."

Alexei Kalugin, the head of the Organization for Armed Shenanigans, leaned forward slightly and began to speak.

"Your Imperial Majesty, I believe that if the region is allowed to fester, then we're going to have problems later on. Not so much because we are missing out an opportunity to make it a better place – as stated, there's not really such an opportunity – but because if we let the place fester, the same Jihadist, Marxist, and Maoist groups that are sprouting there are going to be attacking here, or if not here, than in allied nations. Permission to elaborate?"

"Please do," – said Cassiopeia.

"Conceptually speaking, terrorism and guerrilla groups grow in spaces – physical or metaphorical – where the local government is unable or unwilling to monitor their activity – where the state's ability to collect information is reduced. In these spaces, the terrorist organizations can then grow, train their men, carry out various businesses, acquire resources and weapons. Eventually they are powerful enough to take on a mantle of a state of sorts, and to be able to carry out offensive action. In other words, a terrorist group is like a business of sorts, and is governed by some of the same economic principles as any other human endeavor – for them to carry out their tasks requires resources, and to acquire those resources what they need is an infrastructure for terrorism – training camps, weapons caches, offices, and if possible, also factories, farms, and so on."

"So what you're suggesting is, while we can't actually stop or eliminate those groups, nor bring peace and freedom to Saranidia, what we [i]can[/I do is weaken them."

"Or, at least, make their operations costly. Cost imposition policies are still part of Free Kingdom doctrine as far as I know."

"That's correct. What do you need?" – the Queen asked.

"I need perhaps a hundred Tier 1 special operations men and a battalion of paratroopers to be made available, but not yet deployed. " – said General Kalugin without hesitation. "I would also like to have my counterparts in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs contact nations that would be willing to cooperate with us against the Revolutionaries – to include Saranidia itself. That is all."

"Very well. This shouldn't be a problem" – said Cassiopeia. "Maverick, I'd like you to second someone to sit down with General Kalugin and see what can be done about this. Report to me on progress."

*

From: Maverick Monningham Free Kingdom Minister of Foreign Affairs
To; Sisterly Sultana Aisha Miriam Khan

Your Majesty!
I see that your country is confronted with a terrorist threat. We offer you the assistance of the Free Kingdom, mostly on account of the fact that such terrorists threaten us to. As a gesture of good will, we will be relaying to your nation's security forces satellite photographs of suspected terrorist hideouts. That said, we request that you allow us to send a small amount of troops and equipment to be deployed from your nation's territory to conduct counterterrorist operations.

Respectfully yours,
Maverick.

[Saranidia]

Two figures crept on their bellies, faces covered with masks. Desert fatigues covered their bodies, but under them were sportsmen’s compression sleeves and shirts. Monocular night-vision goggles were over their eyes.

A Saranidian soldier, AK in hand, peered out into the darkness with a watchful gaze- but could not find the intruder, one of which already had his integrally-suppressed Ruger Mk. II drawn and aimed.

A single crack, the clap-like report of a .22 Long Rifle round snapped through the air, leaving the sentry limp. Acting quickly as to muffle the sound, the two figures sprang forward and softly laid the body on the ground, before snapping a keycard off of the body’s lanyard and opening the door to the facility he was guarding.

Sneaking further into the darkened hallway, pistols and knives drawn, they stumbled across two other guards, facing the other way while engaged in deep conversation. A knife, slashed across one’s throat and the other knocked out against a wall, the pair of figures continued on.

Up the stairs they went, until they came across a heavy, locked set of double doors.
3... 2... 1...

One figure swiped the card, while the other wrenched the door open and advanced quickly with his pistol. Two rounds snapped towards one of the guards in the room, and his companion fell as the second intruder took him out with shots of his own.

The first man took off a satchel around his neck, opening it and inspecting it. Taking out two pins and inserting them into a clay-like substance, while the second man covered him-

A Saranidian guard, happening upon the scene, yelled, drawing his sidearm and firing into the air.

The lights sprang on, flooding the facility in bright glare.

Wahat Alhuriya, Contested Isratine
December 19, 4:35 Local Time

“Sloppy, sloppy; let’s try that again one more time. Should have moved the bodies so they aren’t in plain sight or taken them with you, and always check for their buddy, it’s logical for them to patrol in pairs. Forgetting the first guard’s buddy was a mistake- and dammit, pick up your shell casings so they don’t know you came in blasting.”

A voice came in over a megaphone, spoken by a lieutenant in a beret and fatigues.
The “Saranidi” guards stood back up with their weapons, bright-pink paint marks on them wherever they were “shot”.

“Abdul- you really have to watch it, next time you do that I’m actually going to get a fucking concussion.” A National Revolutionary infantryman who played the part of OPFOR groaned, shaking his head and caressing where he’d been shoved into the wall. “It’s a simulation; please realize that.”

“Quit bitching, Mohamad.” One of the infiltrators remarked, as both of them cleared their pistols and put them back in their holsters, waiting for orders from the lieutenant.

“Everyone, back to their positions, we’re doing this one more time until the damn Hussein brothers improve on their garbage!”

“Yes, sir!” Everyone called and saluted, before doing as instructed.

A real Al-Saranidi Gendarme was patrolling as part of a Civilian Protection Force.
He could not see them but he did hear people yell “garbage!” And “yes sir!” As well as a megaphone sound.
His patrol, composed of his Sergeant, his Lieutenant and a PFLP company radioed the Al-Saranidi Lieutenant Colonel “Sahib, suspicious activities going on involving men speaking in Al-Saranidi accents.” Said the Lieutenant.
“Permission to engage” said the Sergeant
“Denied for now patrol around the area until reinforcements arrive then we will engage.

The mixed Al-Saranidi and Palestinian patrol stumbled across the rebels.
They panicked and opened fire.
“Reinforcements now!” Screamed the sergeant as the troops ran to the base: the Al-Saranidi Lieutenant being the first one to rush into danger.

[Saranidia]

Cabinet meeting, somewhere in the Free Kingdom of Allanea

"Maverick, I want your honest opinion." – said Cassiopeia, looking at the man in the gray suit. He was Maverick Monningham, the Free Kingdom's Minister of Foreign Affairs. "It is my instinct that this is just a new outburst of Middle Eastern third-world nonsense, where the only thing it'll bring to anybody in the region is more death, more destruction, more poverty and more suffering. Where am I wrong?"

The Minister of Foreign Affairs took less than a second in contemplating the Queen's question. "Absolutely nowhere. The situation cannot be made better by foreign intervention, no matter how many resources are applied or how many soldiers we send or what checks we sign to what group."

"I see." – she nodded. "Priscilla, I understand that you disagree?"

"I agree absolutely, in the sense that there's not an opportunity for us to make it a peaceful or stable place without an elaborate project that would require us to turn disproportionate levels of attention, effort, and resources to the problem. But I do believe that there is a need for our very limited participation."

Alexei Kalugin, the head of the Organization for Armed Shenanigans, leaned forward slightly and began to speak.

"Your Imperial Majesty, I believe that if the region is allowed to fester, then we're going to have problems later on. Not so much because we are missing out an opportunity to make it a better place – as stated, there's not really such an opportunity – but because if we let the place fester, the same Jihadist, Marxist, and Maoist groups that are sprouting there are going to be attacking here, or if not here, than in allied nations. Permission to elaborate?"

"Please do," – said Cassiopeia.

"Conceptually speaking, terrorism and guerrilla groups grow in spaces – physical or metaphorical – where the local government is unable or unwilling to monitor their activity – where the state's ability to collect information is reduced. In these spaces, the terrorist organizations can then grow, train their men, carry out various businesses, acquire resources and weapons. Eventually they are powerful enough to take on a mantle of a state of sorts, and to be able to carry out offensive action. In other words, a terrorist group is like a business of sorts, and is governed by some of the same economic principles as any other human endeavor – for them to carry out their tasks requires resources, and to acquire those resources what they need is an infrastructure for terrorism – training camps, weapons caches, offices, and if possible, also factories, farms, and so on."

"So what you're suggesting is, while we can't actually stop or eliminate those groups, nor bring peace and freedom to Saranidia, what we [i]can[/I do is weaken them."

"Or, at least, make their operations costly. Cost imposition policies are still part of Free Kingdom doctrine as far as I know."

"That's correct. What do you need?" – the Queen asked.

"I need perhaps a hundred Tier 1 special operations men and a battalion of paratroopers to be made available, but not yet deployed. " – said General Kalugin without hesitation. "I would also like to have my counterparts in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs contact nations that would be willing to cooperate with us against the Revolutionaries – to include Saranidia itself. That is all."

"Very well. This shouldn't be a problem" – said Cassiopeia. "Maverick, I'd like you to second someone to sit down with General Kalugin and see what can be done about this. Report to me on progress."

*

From: Maverick Monningham Free Kingdom Minister of Foreign Affairs
To; Sisterly Sultana Aisha Miriam Khan

Your Majesty!
I see that your country is confronted with a terrorist threat. We offer you the assistance of the Free Kingdom, mostly on account of the fact that such terrorists threaten us to. As a gesture of good will, we will be relaying to your nation's security forces satellite photographs of suspected terrorist hideouts. That said, we request that you allow us to send a small amount of troops and equipment to be deployed from your nation's territory to conduct counterterrorist operations.

Respectfully yours,
Maverick.

Your troops are indeed invited-
Sisterly Sultana Miriam Kahn