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Dread the Fog (Closed)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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The Astovia
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Posts: 238
Founded: Sep 18, 2023
Compulsory Consumerist State

Dread the Fog (Closed)

Postby The Astovia » Thu Jun 20, 2024 4:10 pm

There's a certain individual who knows they can post in this thread, if you are not said individual, please refrain from posting in this thread.

Obviously, the SAW is still an ongoing event, though this thread is to serve for further interactions between me and Arakhkhar.

ORBATs and other information
To store all that random notes that I will absolutely forget to put here.

Army of the Republic of Bodroasia (166,310)

1st Armored Division (14,400)
  • 1st Armored Brigade (2,900)
  • 2nd Armored Brigade (2,870)
  • 3rd Armored Brigade (3,000)
  • 33rd Infantry Brigade (2,840)
  • Fires Battalion (920)
  • Division Support Battalion (940)
  • Division Engineering Battalion (930)

1st Infantry Division (14,600)
  • 3rd Infantry Brigade (3,000)
  • 13th Infantry Brigade (2,970)
  • 20th Infantry Brigade (2,970)
  • 29th Infantry Brigade (2,860)
  • Fires Battalion (900)
  • Division Support Battalion (900)
  • Division Engineering Battalion (1,000)

2nd Infantry Division (14,520)
  • 24th Infantry Brigade (3,000)
  • 21st Infantry Brigade (2,870)
  • 23rd Infantry Brigade (3,000)
  • 8th Infantry Brigade (3,000)
  • Fires Battalion (870)
  • Division Support Battalion (920)
  • Division Engineering Battalion (860)

3rd Motorized Division (14,650)
  • 1st Motorized Infantry Brigade (3,000)
  • 2nd Motorized Infantry Brigade (2,820)
  • 3rd Motorized Infantry Brigade (2,950)
  • 4th Motorized Infantry Brigade (2,960)
  • Fires Battalion (1,000)
  • Division Support Battalion (920)
  • Division Engineering Battalion (1,000)

4th Infantry Division (14,170)
  • 17th Infantry Brigade (2,820)
  • 2nd Infantry Brigade (2,830)
  • 15th Infantry Brigade (2,910)
  • 11th Infantry Brigade (2,830)
  • Fires Battalion (860)
  • Division Support Battalion (940)
  • Division Engineering Battalion (980)

5th Infantry Division (14,470)
  • 25th Infantry Brigade (3,000)
  • 1st Infantry Brigade (3,000)
  • 27th Infantry Brigade (2,920)
  • 7th Infantry Brigade (2,950)
  • Fires Battalion (830)
  • Division Support Battalion (830)
  • Division Engineering Battalion (940)

6th Infantry Division (14,130)
  • 5th Infantry Brigade (2,850)
  • 16th Infantry Brigade (2,790)
  • 31st Infantry Brigade (2,820)
  • 9th Infantry Brigade (2,850)
  • Fires Battalion (1,000)
  • Division Support Battalion (870)
  • Division Engineering Battalion (950)

7th Infantry Division (13,780)
  • 19th Infantry Brigade (2,430)
  • 10th Infantry Brigade (2,700)
  • 6th Infantry Brigade (3,000)
  • 4th Infantry Brigade (3,000)
  • Fires Battalion (1,000)
  • Division Support Battalion (860)
  • Division Engineering Battalion (790)

8th Infantry Division (14,260)
  • 12th Infantry Brigade (2,870)
  • 32nd Infantry Brigade (2,790)
  • 14th Infantry Brigade (2,810)
  • 22nd Infantry Brigade (3,000)
  • Fires Battalion (920)
  • Division Support Battalion (870)
  • Division Engineering Battalion (1,000)

9th Infantry Division (14,350)
  • 28th Infantry Brigade (3,000)
  • 18th Infantry Brigade (2,800)
  • 30th Infantry Brigade (2,850)
  • 26th Infantry Brigade (3,000)
  • Fires Battalion (800)
  • Division Support Battalion (1,000)
  • Division Engineering Battalion (900)

10th Mountaineer Division (11,490)
  • 2nd Light Infantry Brigade (3,000)
  • 5th Light Infantry Brigade (2,900)
  • 3rd Light Infantry Brigade (2,780)
  • Fires Battalion (1,000)
  • Division Support Battalion (890)
  • Division Engineering Battalion (920)

11th Mountaineer Division (11,490)
  • 1st Light Infantry Brigade (2,900)
  • 4th Light Infantry Brigade (2,890)
  • 6th Light Infantry Brigade (3,000)
  • Fires Battalion (800)
  • Division Support Battalion (900)
  • Division Engineering Battalion (1,000)

Army Air Corp (10,200)

Ground Based Command Staff (1,500)

1st Fighter Air Wing (2,000)
2nd Fighter Air Wing (1,700)
3rd Close Air Support Wing (2,000)
4th Bomber Air Wing (1,400)
5th Close Air Support Wing (1,600)

Navy of the Republic of Bodroasia (33,080)

1st Capital Fleet

1st Battleship Task Force (19,105)
  • RBS Molenduinen (Battleship | 65 Officers, 1,450 Enlisted)
  • RBS Sterrenburg (Pocket Battleship | 50 Officers, 1,200 Enlisted)
  • RBS Heida (Pocket Battleship | 50 Officers, 1,200 Enlisted)
  • RBS Hannema (Battlecruiser | 50 Officers, 1,100 Enlisted)
  • RBS Klavermeer (Battlecruiser | 50 Officers, 1,100 Enlisted)
  • RBS Jorritsma (Battlecruiser | 50 Officers, 1,100 Enlisted)
  • RBS Zunderdam (Escort Carrier | 50 Officers, 810 Enlisted)
  • RBS Bloemsma (Heavy Cruiser | 40 Officers, 800 Enlisted)
  • RBS Wassenaar (Heavy Cruiser | 40 Officers, 800 Enlisted)
  • RBS Brouwer (Heavy Cruiser | 40 Officers, 800 Enlisted)
  • RBS Bloemgaard (Heavy Cruiser | 40 Officers, 800 Enlisted)
  • RBS Waterzeil (Light Cruiser | 60 Officers, 700 Enlisted)
  • RBS Nero (Light Cruiser | 60 Officers, 700 Enlisted)
  • RBS Schilstra (Light Cruiser | 60 Officers, 700 Enlisted)
  • RBS Akkerman (Light Cruiser | 60 Officers, 700 Enlisted)
  • RBS Jelsma (Light Cruiser | 60 Officers, 700 Enlisted)
  • RBS Hoekstra (Light Cruiser | 60 Officers, 700 Enlisted)
  • RBS Steensma (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Boorsma (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Zwartvoort (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Korenveld (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Maanlichtberg (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Nieuwenhuis (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Feitsma (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Briesdorp A (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Briesdorp B (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Zuidlicht (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Terhavenheim (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)

2nd Dreadnought Task Force (12,340)
  • RBS Grasduinberg (Dreadnought | 80 Officers, 1,640 Enlisted)
  • RBS Ambermeer (Battlecruiser | 50 Officers, 1,100 Enlisted)
  • RBS Vinkenburg (Battlecruiser | 50 Officers, 1,100 Enlisted)
  • RBS Molendrechtstraat (Heavy Cruiser | 40 Officers, 800 Enlisted)
  • RBS Breukelmeer (Heavy Cruiser | 40 Officers, 800 Enlisted)
  • RBS Klaverveldt (Light Cruiser | 60 Officers, 700 Enlisted)
  • RBS Kastelenberg (Light Cruiser | 60 Officers, 700 Enlisted)
  • RBS Rozenkust (Light Cruiser | 60 Officers, 700 Enlisted)
  • RBS Schuurmans (Light Cruiser | 60 Officers, 700 Enlisted)
  • RBS Postmus (Light Cruiser | 60 Officers, 700 Enlisted)
  • RBS Krikke (Light Cruiser | 60 Officers, 700 Enlisted)
  • RBS Duinendam (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Woudenzoom (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Bloemendalburg (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Rodendorp (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Zonnemond (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Ekkertuin (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Boonstra A (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • RBS Boonstra B (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)

2nd Submarine Fleet

3rd Submarine Task Force (1,635)
  • RBS Koster (Light Cruiser | 60 Officers, 700 Enlisted)
  • RBS Maandekreek (Destroyer | 10 Officers, 250 Enlisted)
  • H-1 (Supply Submarine | 5 Officers, 60 Enlisted)
  • Z-3 (Submarine | 5 Officers, 50 Enlisted)
  • Z-4 (Submarine | 5 Officers, 50 Enlisted)
  • Z-5 (Submarine | 5 Officers, 50 Enlisted)
  • Z-7 (Submarine | 5 Officers, 50 Enlisted)
  • Z-8 (Submarine | 5 Officers, 50 Enlisted)
  • Z-9 (Submarine | 5 Officers, 50 Enlisted)
  • Z-11 (Submarine | 5 Officers, 50 Enlisted)
  • Z-12 (Submarine | 5 Officers, 50 Enlisted)
  • Z-13 (Submarine | 5 Officers, 50 Enlisted)
  • Z-14 (Submarine | 5 Officers, 50 Enlisted)


Antlia had fallen, though the world did not shed a tear for it, however, unbeknownst to the powers within the world, the island had not been occupied by one of the factions in the war. Rather, it had been seized by a power from beyond their world, and with the fall of Antlia, a firm boot not from their world had taken hold. The gaze of this empire would not solely be keen on owning one sole island, but to seize the neck of the world on which they had now arrived, and to choke it utterly.

In Luetia, the Imperial Army called for everyone they could, though, there grew concern over Cepvinian victories in the West, victories that worried Luetian Command. As the Luetian Army sputtered and made a crucial blunder south of Peltier, the Cepvinians had sought to take advantage of the failure. Of the Luetian attempts to counter attack, they would start to take significant losses of AT-2s, easily being destroyed by Cepvinian counter parts. Despite the loss of Luetian equipment, the Imperial Army would attempt to retake loss ground, with Command Staff creating plans for defenses should Peltier be captured.

Such plans would, however, be interrupted by the onset of something they could not possibly prepare for. An interloper to that world. During one of the planning sessions of Luetian high command - some on the coast watched as streaks of white blazed across the sky, silent at first, until they came overhead - with a great boom of something faster than they had ever seen before.
They were missiles - cruise missiles, in particular - flying low over the Luetian plains, and eventually slamming into the command center with several cataclysmic blows.
The vaporization of the majority of Luetian High Command was unavoidable - and with it, a critical blow was dealt to what was already a failing war effort.

In the immediate aftermath of the attack, remaining elements of High Command and investigation from domestic authorities would presume the attack had been carried out as some sort of Cepvinian special attack, using weapons previously secret and unknown.

The Cepvinians, meanwhile, were left confused, but not one to miss an opportunity, pushing on the Luetians harder as without High Command, smaller scale command units struggled to attempt to form a united command. The fall of Peltier would not be some desperate last stand by Luetian forces, but an encirclement and subsequent surrender, with a true humiliation, the Luetian Army would struggle to fight on, with inexperienced commanders attempting to take the place of High Command, consistent blunders would mark the Luetian operations from here on out. With the Imperial Navy pushing ever further to attempt to secure some victories, they would start to come into Cepvinian hunting grounds. The Republic’s Navy seeking nothing but total eradication of the Luetian Fleet, would push further into their waters, striking with more fervor and frequency than before.

The Cepvinians would find, at times, unseen help - and at some times, finding that ships travelling in areas thought safe would go missing - never to return. Even search parties would find nothing, or at times, go missing themselves. Something was prowling the waters of Southern Alovna, something that continued to confound and confuse both sides of the war. Some dubbed this the work of ‘meddlers.’ Yet, their victories were nothing compared to the crushing blows they delivered to the Luetians on land, having broken through Luetian lines, they used their armored and motorized units to their full potential, pushing in full strength as they pushed eastward. Some elements simply bypassing units, and others encircling and attempting to capture as many as possible, either way, Luetia had certainly entered the last days of the war, with some forces who had managed not to be sent West preparing defenses within the Capital and other major cities.

Further east, the Astovians found themselves a better fate, pushing further back against the Olvanians. The Communists fought well, but as the Astovians utilized everything that they could, the first Astovian forces would manage to push over the border. Ironically, the Astovians seemed to be forcing the Olvanians into a state that mirrored how far the Olvanians had pushed into Astovia. Slowly but surely, they would push them back, and soon, the Astovians would prepare to thrust into the core of Olvania. With Astovian forces managing to capture a number of smaller Olvanian towns, Olvanian forces would prepare defensive lines further back to stall the Astovians as long as possible. Though the Olvanians prepare to last as long as possible, the writing is on the wall, with the Cepvinians cutting off from sending material aid to the Olvanians.

Yet, while the South Alovnan War wages, another nation stands at peace. In the Republic of Bodroasia to the East, business continues as usual, with none aware of the targets painted upon the small Republic. In Bodroasia there was the usual, the Republic’s Army running exercises, the Navy on their own fleet patrols, and the Army’s Air Corp keeping the skies clear.

For in a realm that the Bodroasians could not possibly comprehend, designs were drawn - schematics created, maps outlined. Like the scientist who watches callously at an experiment, every move was calculated - tested, perhaps. Slowly - and surely - those designs were turned against them.


From ports across that ignoble realm, black ships began to coalesce - swarm together, array in calculated positions. Goggled eyes reviewed constantly updated maps - weapons, locked, prepared, and kept in waiting. Black-armored Shock Troopers moved from place to place, and ordinance was carried by thousands upon thousands of tons. There was no longer any question regarding intent, as the efforts of newfound Quantum Tunneling devices were fixed to vessels - that there was to be a major operation conducted soon, and that its scope would encompass the lives of millions.

Within the Republic there grew some level of tension that few could truly place their mind on, only labeling it as a subtle uneasiness. It began simple enough - placing one’s eyes on the horizon, watching the sea and the fog that it sometimes bore with it. The mists that concealed within them the little wooden or metal fishing boats, scattered about like toys from the perspective of someone on the mainland - and how, with each passing day - it seemed as though that mist grew more and more inscrutable, how a fog once vaguely familiar seemed to delve more and more into the realm of callous unfamiliarity.

How uneasiness festers - how it bubbles, and boils, and turns to dread. That dread grew with each passing day - sometimes, a fishing boat would fail to return. Sometimes, ships would simply… vanish. Radio calls would return nothing, and search parties found nothing but the open ocean laid bare before them.
It was as though they had been erased from the face of Kolano.

They were, however, not quite erased - although, had those on the mainland learned their fates - perhaps they would wish they had been. Regardless of that fate - Bodroasians looked to the ocean, once an endless horizon of possibilities, as a place to dread.
They were right to do so.

As the days went on, Bodroasia’s government began to shift away from their worries on the sea, pushing them aside as simply accidents at sea, how wrong they would be. With the Republic’s fleet in port, the perfect time to strike slowly came into view.
I make 3D models or something.
Proud member of the Cat Fan Club.
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Arakhkhar
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Posts: 5003
Founded: Jan 03, 2024
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Arakhkhar » Fri Jun 21, 2024 12:55 pm

The Fog Rolls

•Novalira, Arakhkhar, Badlands Frontier•

•12:43, June 21st, 2024•



Within towering black spires that glittered of purple lighting and of the virtues of a rising Empire - one that continued to expand, grow, whilst celebrating and praising where they had come from. The Empire had claimed this place.
Fresh off the tail of the celebration of the Empress coming to power, work had to be done to extend her reign further, further into the world.

And for once, a curious opportunity would present itself to the Vicereine. Efforts far, far from Arakhkhar had begun to yield results.

For the Imperial Principality was no longer blind to the realm known as Kolano. Research had been done, quite extensively now - into a theoretical concept, nowmade practical - quantum tunneling. That one could pierce the veil, could shift through time and space, following pre-existing ‘tunnels’ - holes in reality. Such was the course of forbidden research - that one could endeavor into matters not quite meant for humanity to experience, not for millenia after that.

Studies of Kolano had been conducted in many ways,
For one, upon the first arrival of Arakhkhari assets in the area, it was clear that it was an entirely different world. That, and star-mapping had concluded that they were in an entirely different galaxy. Yet, as they ventured out to encounter the flora and fauna of this new world, they encountered humans. This, in and of itself, was a curious matter - and then, they encountered… strange, feline-like creatures - referred to as felinds by the locals. Referred to by those who encountered them as Kotarkviti - or, quite literally, ‘cat-people.’ More than that, it seemed, with every increasing transgression into this land - that the residents of this world were… entirely backwards. While not nearly as chaotic as in the inner badlands, it was as if one had gone back in time to the 1930s. A wholly curious, if somewhat bizarre aberration of the space-time continuum.

But other studies had to be done. More aggressive - invasive, perhaps. It was not nearly enough to study from a distance what could be brought to a laboratory - and then, of course, what good was research, if not to serve for its future exploitation?
And examples of these microbes - people - came, in increasing number, to the Imperial Principality. Prodded. Bent. Broken. An Astovian destroyer, sunk off the coast of Luetia - the island of Antlia, and its inhabitants - stolen away from their home, and replaced there by Althumans who would work on the construction site.
Extensive research had now gone into the systems with which to translate the languages of the Bodroasians, the Astovians, the Cepvinians, and the Luetians. And with… guides, now, these would have to be integrated into the force that would be inevitably sent to this place.

Sometimes, their silent hunters would find tantalizing targets - Cepvinian, Luetian, Astovian, Bodroasian - it mattered not. Civilian, military… whatever would be acquired, was. More examples had to be collected - brought to Antlia as chattel, and then shipped to Arakhkhar.
Antlia, once a green, quite pleasant island - was gradually shaped, destroyed, broken down into an entirely new image. The green grass was stripped from the dirt, and whatever soil needed moved to expand the island - and then set in with concrete. The pleasant homes and quiant shops that had once scattered the island were bulldozed, the remnants used for firewood. Pastoral land, fishing piers that had seen generations grow by them - all had to be removed in the course of the fulfillment of the Imperial Will.
Sites were dug out, great channels dug into the soil for ships to dock - places made for the storing of massive amounts of material and personnel that would be necessary for a full scale invasion.

Antlia was simply Staging Point Alpha, now.
And with it, it would bear with it the Fog - the Fog of War.
By the Vicereine's Will.
By the Empress's Design.
Your culture will adapt to service us.

Wherever applicable, factbooks/dispatches take precedence over stats for RP. Rated the absolute most totalitarian nation on this index.

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The Astovia
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Founded: Sep 18, 2023
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby The Astovia » Mon Jun 24, 2024 4:34 pm

A Bodroasian Sailor slowly scanned the early morning skies, with the last of the fleet pulling in for minor repairs and maintenance it was set to be a quiet week. The schedule for the day was light for most, but the upper echelons of Fleet command had been called to discuss the reports of vanishing civilian ships. Obviously, the Bodroasians would be clueless as to what was causing the vanishings, with mostly clear weather along their coast in the last few weeks, with the command presuming it was simply accidents that had occurred coincidentally. Nonetheless, the Navy would still have to launch a further investigation into the matter, but for now, it was all they could come up with given the lack of information they had.

In Molenduinen, the air was cool, the early morning fog letting up into a wet dew as the city slowly came to life, with the Congress filing in as the brief recess ended, preparing for another long week of bureaucratic bickering. With Congress discussing the lost ships and whether a proper investigation should be started, likely to get nowhere with the mess that was the Congress of 1799. Further away, the President found himself reading off a series of small reports on affairs around the country, nothing particularly good, but nothing that he could label as negative. From what he read, the Army was running into problems with getting defensive positions in the North done, engineers running into problems with weak soil.

Even as he read through everything, he felt a sense of unease, feeling as if something was off, though he could not describe the sense of his unease, it would be a tinge he'd feel long throughout the day. Nonetheless, he would have to put this unease aside, he was the face of the Republic, and he could not let the public see him uneasy. Especially with whatever was going on offshore, he would have to keep up a straight face on the matter, to assure the public that everything was under a degree of control that they could trust.




At Sea, the RANS Orbán Kristóf would begin its patrol, the Astovian Capital Ship supported by elements of the fleet, the crew on watch for any possible sign of Cepvinian Raiders far out in Astovian waters. While Royal Navy command was unsure of Orsós Viktória's skills as a temporary Commodore, the assignment was purely intended to ensure that she would have some competency in commanding the ship. Whether it be a blessing or a curse that the ship had not run into any enemy force, it certainly left Orsós Viktória with a degree of unease, wondering if the Cepvinian Navy was preparing a response force. Yet, at the very least she could be thankful for the mild weather, allowing them to have some visual if any aircraft were picked up on radar. Set to patrol around the Astovian held Klevonian islands before making the return trip, the patrol would hopefully grant her a better idea of the ship's capabilities.

Obviously, the fact that the RANS Orbán Kristóf was on patrol was information that an unseen hand was well aware of, though so far, they had only sought to observe and possibly attempt to map out the route of the Battleship. Whether they would seek to strike out at the force was something they had yet determined, for now, they watched, and they waited.
I make 3D models or something.
Proud member of the Cat Fan Club.
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Arakhkhar
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Posts: 5003
Founded: Jan 03, 2024
Psychotic Dictatorship

Fire!

Postby Arakhkhar » Sun Jun 30, 2024 7:03 pm

1st Amphibious Assault Division - Total Personnel - 14844
600 AIV-23M “Dagger” Infantry Fighting Vehicles
48 PWV-53 Psychochemical Warfare Vehicles
600 IAC TT-44 Arachnid 8-wheeled Armored Personnel Carriers.
80x IAC AADV-09 "Storm" Self Propelled Anti-Air vehicles
Combat Engineers, 900 personnel
Medical Company, 300 personnel
Electronics Warfare Battalion, 900 personnel
Signal Battalion, 900 personnel
Supply Battalion, 900 personnel
Amphibious Shock Infantry - 8,400
Vehicle Crew - 2544
Total Support Personnel: 3900


1st "Lira's Legion" Guards Shock Division - Total Personnel - 13,656
200 A-70I Main Battle Tanks
50 AIV-30 "Hammer" Armored Fighting Vehicles
400 AIV-23M “Dagger” Infantry Fighting Vehicles
90 AAV-90 155mm Self-Propelled Artillery Guns
35 ARV-30 Thermobaric Artillery Vehicles
24 PWV-53 Psychochemical Warfare Vehicles
12 AAV-90C Self Propelled Artillery Guns, chemical
500 IAC TT-44 Arachnid 8-wheeled Armored Personnel Carriers.
80x IAC AADV-09 "Storm" Self Propelled Anti-Air vehicles
Combat Engineers, 900 personnel
Reconaissance Battalion, 900 personnel
Medical Company, 300 personnel
Electronics Warfare Battalion, 900 personnel
Signal Battalion, 900 personnel
Supply Battalion, 900 personnel
Shock Infantry - 6,300
Vehicle Crew - 2,754
Total Support Personnel: 4800

2nd Shock Armored Division - Total Personnel - 13,506
170 A65-M4U Main Battle Tanks
30 A70 Main Battle Tanks
400 AIV-23 “Dagger” Infantry Fighting Vehicles
90 AAV-90 155mm Self-Propelled Artillery Guns
35 ARV-30 Thermobaric Artillery Vehicles
24 PWV-53 Psychochemical Warfare Vehicles
12 AAV-90C Self Propelled Artillery Guns, chemical
500 IAC TT-44 Arachnid 8-wheeled Armored Personnel Carriers.
80x IAC AADV-09 "Storm" Self Propelled Anti-Air vehicles
Combat Engineers, 900 personnel
Reconaissance Battalion, 900 personnel
Medical Company, 300 personnel
Electronics Warfare Battalion, 900 personnel
Signal Battalion, 900 personnel
Supply Battalion, 900 personnel
Shock Infantry - 6,300
Vehicle Crew - 2,604
Total Support Personnel: 4800

5th Guards Shock Armored Division - Total Personnel - 13,506
170 A65-M4U Main Battle Tanks
30 A70 Main Battle Tanks
400 AIV-23 “Dagger” Infantry Fighting Vehicles
90 AAV-90 155mm Self-Propelled Artillery Guns
35 ARV-30 Thermobaric Artillery Vehicles
24 PWV-53 Psychochemical Warfare Vehicles
12 AAV-90C Self Propelled Artillery Guns, chemical
500 IAC TT-44 Arachnid 8-wheeled Armored Personnel Carriers.
80x IAC AADV-09 "Storm" Self Propelled Anti-Air vehicles
Combat Engineers, 900 personnel
Reconaissance Battalion, 900 personnel
Medical Company, 300 personnel
Electronics Warfare Battalion, 900 personnel
Signal Battalion, 900 personnel
Supply Battalion, 900 personnel
Shock Infantry - 6,300
Vehicle Crew - 2,604
Total Support Personnel: 4800

8th Shock Armored Division - Total Personnel - 13,506
170 A65-M4U Main Battle Tanks
30 A70 Main Battle Tanks
400 AIV-23 “Dagger” Infantry Fighting Vehicles
90 AAV-90 155mm Self-Propelled Artillery Guns
35 ARV-30 Thermobaric Artillery Vehicles
24 PWV-53 Psychochemical Warfare Vehicles
12 AAV-90C Self Propelled Artillery Guns, chemical
500 IAC TT-44 Arachnid 8-wheeled Armored Personnel Carriers.
80x IAC AADV-09 "Storm" Self Propelled Anti-Air vehicles
Combat Engineers, 900 personnel
Reconaissance Battalion, 900 personnel
Medical Company, 300 personnel
Electronics Warfare Battalion, 900 personnel
Signal Battalion, 900 personnel
Supply Battalion, 900 personnel
Shock Infantry - 6,300
Vehicle Crew - 2,604
Total Support Personnel: 4800

11th Shock Armored Division - Total Personnel - 13,506
170 A65-M4U Main Battle Tanks
30 A70 Main Battle Tanks
400 AIV-23 “Dagger” Infantry Fighting Vehicles
90 AAV-90 155mm Self-Propelled Artillery Guns
35 ARV-30 Thermobaric Artillery Vehicles
24 PWV-53 Psychochemical Warfare Vehicles
12 AAV-90C Self Propelled Artillery Guns, chemical
500 IAC TT-44 Arachnid 8-wheeled Armored Personnel Carriers.
80x IAC AADV-09 "Storm" Self Propelled Anti-Air vehicles
Combat Engineers, 900 personnel
Reconaissance Battalion, 900 personnel
Medical Company, 300 personnel
Electronics Warfare Battalion, 900 personnel
Signal Battalion, 900 personnel
Supply Battalion, 900 personnel
Shock Infantry - 6,300
Vehicle Crew - 2,604
Total Support Personnel: 4800

13th Shock Armored Division - Total Personnel - 13,506
170 A65-M4U Main Battle Tanks
30 A70 Main Battle Tanks
400 AIV-23 “Dagger” Infantry Fighting Vehicles
90 AAV-90 155mm Self-Propelled Artillery Guns
35 ARV-30 Thermobaric Artillery Vehicles
24 PWV-53 Psychochemical Warfare Vehicles
12 AAV-90C Self Propelled Artillery Guns, chemical
500 IAC TT-44 Arachnid 8-wheeled Armored Personnel Carriers.
80x IAC AADV-09 "Storm" Self Propelled Anti-Air vehicles
Combat Engineers, 900 personnel
Reconaissance Battalion, 900 personnel
Medical Company, 300 personnel
Electronics Warfare Battalion, 900 personnel
Signal Battalion, 900 personnel
Supply Battalion, 900 personnel
Shock Infantry - 6,300
Vehicle Crew - 2,604
Total Support Personnel: 4800

14th Shock Armored Division - Total Personnel - 13,506
170 A65-M4U Main Battle Tanks
30 A70 Main Battle Tanks
400 AIV-23 “Dagger” Infantry Fighting Vehicles
90 AAV-90 155mm Self-Propelled Artillery Guns
35 ARV-30 Thermobaric Artillery Vehicles
24 PWV-53 Psychochemical Warfare Vehicles
12 AAV-90C Self Propelled Artillery Guns, chemical
500 IAC TT-44 Arachnid 8-wheeled Armored Personnel Carriers.
80x IAC AADV-09 "Storm" Self Propelled Anti-Air vehicles
Combat Engineers, 900 personnel
Reconaissance Battalion, 900 personnel
Medical Company, 300 personnel
Electronics Warfare Battalion, 900 personnel
Signal Battalion, 900 personnel
Supply Battalion, 900 personnel
Shock Infantry - 6,300
Vehicle Crew - 2,604
Total Support Personnel: 4800

4th Shock Armored Division - Total Personnel - 13,506
170 A65-M4U Main Battle Tanks
30 A70 Main Battle Tanks
400 AIV-23 “Dagger” Infantry Fighting Vehicles
90 AAV-90 155mm Self-Propelled Artillery Guns
35 ARV-30 Thermobaric Artillery Vehicles
24 PWV-53 Psychochemical Warfare Vehicles
12 AAV-90C Self Propelled Artillery Guns, chemical
500 IAC TT-44 Arachnid 8-wheeled Armored Personnel Carriers.
80x IAC AADV-09 "Storm" Self Propelled Anti-Air vehicles
Combat Engineers, 900 personnel
Reconaissance Battalion, 900 personnel
Medical Company, 300 personnel
Electronics Warfare Battalion, 900 personnel
Signal Battalion, 900 personnel
Supply Battalion, 900 personnel
Shock Infantry - 6,300
Vehicle Crew - 2,604
Total Support Personnel: 4800

6th Shock Armored Division - Total Personnel - 13,506
170 A65-M4U Main Battle Tanks
30 A70 Main Battle Tanks
400 AIV-23 “Dagger” Infantry Fighting Vehicles
90 AAV-90 155mm Self-Propelled Artillery Guns
35 ARV-30 Thermobaric Artillery Vehicles
24 PWV-53 Psychochemical Warfare Vehicles
12 AAV-90C Self Propelled Artillery Guns, chemical
500 IAC TT-44 Arachnid 8-wheeled Armored Personnel Carriers.
80x IAC AADV-09 "Storm" Self Propelled Anti-Air vehicles
Combat Engineers, 900 personnel
Reconaissance Battalion, 900 personnel
Medical Company, 300 personnel
Electronics Warfare Battalion, 900 personnel
Signal Battalion, 900 personnel
Supply Battalion, 900 personnel
Shock Infantry - 6,300
Vehicle Crew - 2,604
Total Support Personnel: 4800

12th Shock Armored Division - Total Personnel - 13,506
170 A65-M4U Main Battle Tanks
30 A70 Main Battle Tanks
400 AIV-23 “Dagger” Infantry Fighting Vehicles
90 AAV-90 155mm Self-Propelled Artillery Guns
35 ARV-30 Thermobaric Artillery Vehicles
24 PWV-53 Psychochemical Warfare Vehicles
12 AAV-90C Self Propelled Artillery Guns, chemical
500 IAC TT-44 Arachnid 8-wheeled Armored Personnel Carriers.
80x IAC AADV-09 "Storm" Self Propelled Anti-Air vehicles
Combat Engineers, 900 personnel
Reconaissance Battalion, 900 personnel
Medical Company, 300 personnel
Electronics Warfare Battalion, 900 personnel
Signal Battalion, 900 personnel
Supply Battalion, 900 personnel
Shock Infantry - 6,300
Vehicle Crew - 2,604
Total Support Personnel: 4800

10th "Vicereine's Will" Shock Division - Total Personnel - 13,506
200 A-70I Main Battle Tanks
400 AIV-23M “Dagger” Infantry Fighting Vehicles
90 AAV-90 155mm Self-Propelled Artillery Guns
35 ARV-30 Thermobaric Artillery Vehicles
24 PWV-53 Psychochemical Warfare Vehicles
12 AAV-90C Self Propelled Artillery Guns, chemical
500 IAC TT-44 Arachnid 8-wheeled Armored Personnel Carriers.
80x IAC AADV-09 "Storm" Self Propelled Anti-Air vehicles
Combat Engineers, 900 personnel
Reconaissance Battalion, 900 personnel
Medical Company, 300 personnel
Electronics Warfare Battalion, 900 personnel
Signal Battalion, 900 personnel
Supply Battalion, 900 personnel
Shock Infantry - 6,300
Vehicle Crew - 2,604
Total Support Personnel: 4800

15th Shock Armored Division - Total Personnel - 13,506
170 A65-M4U Main Battle Tanks
30 A70 Main Battle Tanks
400 AIV-23 “Dagger” Infantry Fighting Vehicles
90 AAV-90 155mm Self-Propelled Artillery Guns
35 ARV-30 Thermobaric Artillery Vehicles
24 PWV-53 Psychochemical Warfare Vehicles
12 AAV-90C Self Propelled Artillery Guns, chemical
500 IAC TT-44 Arachnid 8-wheeled Armored Personnel Carriers.
80x IAC AADV-09 "Storm" Self Propelled Anti-Air vehicles
Combat Engineers, 900 personnel
Reconaissance Battalion, 900 personnel
Medical Company, 300 personnel
Electronics Warfare Battalion, 900 personnel
Signal Battalion, 900 personnel
Supply Battalion, 900 personnel
Shock Infantry - 6,300
Vehicle Crew - 2,604
Total Support Personnel: 4800

ISI Black Operations Unit 33
700 Imperial Guards Black Operations Stealth Assault Units (Special commandos)
40 Interrogation Specialists
- Logistics Company, 100 staff
- Signals Intelligence Company, 100 staff
400x ISI Liquidation Specialists (Death Squads)
30x Officers




6x Ruminant Wanderer Class Stealth Nuclear Attack Submarines - 110 personnel each.
2x Accordant Corruption Class Signals Intelligence Submarines - 60 personnel each.
5x Silent Imperium Class Strategic Nuclear Submarines - 150 personnel each
13 DRAK-II Raider Submarines - 70 personnel each.
2x “Vicereine’s Will” Class Aircraft Carrier - 4,100 personnel each.
-45x aDB-24N 5th Generation Multirole aircraft - each.
-25x aDB-26 Fighter bombers - each
-2x BDSAP-220 AWACS aircraft - each
-20x IG-55 Attack Helicopters - each.

3x VgN.4/99 “Eminent Rise” Nuclear-powered Guided-Missile Heavy Cruiser - 1567 personnel each
-3x IG-77N Naval Support Helicopters
9x “Shadow Song” Class Destroyers - 130 personnel each
-9x IG-77N Naval Support helicopters - one to each destroyer.
5x “Subordinate Fate” Class Destroyers - 150 personnel each
-5x IG-77N Naval Support helicopters - one to each destroyer.
8x “Subordinate Vector” Class Frigates - 80 personnel each
8x "Prototypical Concordance" Class Special Forces Infiltration Ship - varies
2x "Eminent Rise" Class minesweepers/layers - 70 personnel each.
15x “Accord” Class Tankers - varies
4x “Indisputable” Class Transport Ships - varies.
30x "Legion" light transport craft.


Fire!

•Staging Point Alpha, Kolano•

•14:25, June 29th, 2024•



Through the fog and over the horizon, the fleet finally made its advent - breaking through the thickest of it - black hulls began to reach their destination.
Moving through the torn up remnants of what was once Antlia, the fleet arrived in its entirety - some of the ships coming in to dock, slowly maneuvering through hastily built ports to resupply, or perhaps, just to get some food - but what had become immediately clear was that the fleet could not be sustained entirely here just yet. A massive invasion force had to be built up and sustained, and therefore, logistics would have to be secured and to that end, the second of the Carina islands seemed particularly tantalizing.

The Luetian colonies had become increasingly exposed, with the ongoing naval and ground defeats that Cepvinia had managed to inflict upon it - and with it, there was one island left tantalizing - a little morsel before any further operation could be conducted in Bodroasia and in other places.
So on the morning of June 29th, Primarch Asira - the officer entrusted with the conduct of all operations in the Kolano Operational Theater - stirred in her office, as she reviewed a map of the immediate zone surrounding them.
The prefabricated building had been somewhat hastily put together - yet, it had been made... a workspace for the Primarch in the planning of what was inevitably to become one of the largest military operations since the actual seizure of what is now Arakhkhar itself - and the largest single military operation thus conducted under Arakhkhar’s administration against a foreign nation, and indeed, a foreign world thus far.

Each night that she had been here, she had bore witness to increasing numbers of ships, troops, equipment hauled in. She had loved watching it roll in, in truth - having a constant reminder of their growing presence in a new world, the fate of it becoming more clear in her heart with each blackened form that came upon the horizon and left it once again.

Loading up upon a hastily assembled screen within a prefabricated building, it loaded upon it - the glossy black screen suddenly springing to life with the flickers of purple. A little tablet sat in her lap - and with a few strokes with a little stylus, she gently drew an arrow - for the establishment of a new military occupation across the breadth of what was soon becoming the Carina Islands Military District - or, the Coberndistriktiv te Karinastivir Insulaviti.
Named that way for the simple reason that there was no present reason to rename them - they would be under direct military rule, after all.
She quickly turned to her side, and moved to a console - a little button pressed upon it.
"Commanders Dana, Vol'oa, Ve'sa, and Acina - report to my office."
She spoke with a clinical voice, devoid of any emotion - there was little emotion to behold.

It was a little moment of waiting - a minute or so passed, before the click of the heels of jackboots came upon the ground - swift and efficient in their motions, without any form of hesitation - practically a march. And from the side door to the expansive blackened office, they came - each, one after another - black leather uniforms, adorned with silver - creaking only a little with their onset. Each, naturally youthful - pale, and with nothing upon their faces other than a quiet determination and respect for their commanding officer.
With a unified motion, they each pressed a closed right fist against each of their hearts.
"Reporting as ordered."
They spoke in turn, one after another.
The Primarch looked out at the officers before her - her uniform, of course, being somewhat like theirs - although somewhat more ornate. Silver ornamentation continued, but a crimson sash lay across her shoulder, held in place with the silver eagle of the Imperial Principality. Her expression was quite notably more pensive, as she continued to examine the faces of those who stood before her - they were likely decades her junior, and she was quite cognizant of that fact - giving them pause to maintain their salute of deference, before finally answering it with a slight bow. With her slight bow, they, naturally, answered with a deeper one, cognizant of their relative status within the hierarchical society.
"Sit down."
She spoke softly, and yet, quickly - in a sort of commanding way.
One after another, the officers found their seats at a long, black table - the top of which was a darker burgundy color. Each of the officers could, of course, see the map laid before them - the one that depicted a target.
Image

With quiet shuffling, they all sat down, and looked at the Primarch, who remained standing. The Primarch, for her part, crossed her arms behind her back, and began to pace in front of the map - speaking softly.
"It has become evident that this place cannot support the breadth of our operations in this region."
She continued with a measured statement.
"Antlia was a good first site, but the continued presence of hostile assets within the vicinity, belonging to the former claimants to this place, remains a hindrance. Furthermore, in the effort that is to come - the securing of large, suitable sites from which we can resupply and refuel, as well as sustain air activities, becomes vital for our continued advance."
The officers watched on as their Primarch explained - each not daring to oppose her - although, from each, endless ideas for how this end could be accomplished sprung to mind. The Primarch, of course, continued.
"It is with this that we have identified the port of Carina to be a suitable location for this end. Roughly 5,000 in terms of population, and more importantly - it already sustains a port. A garrison of 1,000 or so individuals."

She sat down at her chair, finally outlining what her plan.
"The following shall take place. Maneuver the fleet into position. I want the Accordant Corruption on-site and jamming enemy radio communications.We will require three VgN.4/99s - these will form the fire support element of the unit, and will eliminate any naval resistance that we may detect. No surprises, either. Deploy two DRAK-IIs along the flanks, I want the way forward clear of enemy submarines. The... 1st Amphibious Assault Division will prepare their ships and landing craft immediately. We are to begin at 1 hour past midnight."
She now gave our her orders.
"Delegate the task as necessary to your subordinates. You know how you shall fit in. You know your task - return to me when the task is done. Any questions?"
Each of them shook their heads - it was a simple endeavor, and one that, naturally, they would have to make in detail - yet it could be accomplished, they felt, with minimal losses. Following along from Luetian doctrine from the invasion of Antlia, they would likely attempt to form some kind of hardpoint. Rather than assault it directly, something which resulted in a permanent injury, a mixture of attack helicopters and loitering munitions would be used - in conjunction with active artillery support from the Eminent Rise battlecruisers just off-shore. Overwhelming firepower, they felt - along with the identification and constant tracking of any sort of ambush assets laid in preparation - the annihilation of any form of resistance long ahead of time, before the first unit would land on-shore - that was the goal.
There couldn't be any casualties, this time around.

Naturally, some civilians would need to be brought to form some kind of complementary effort - though, this was mostly being done with the usage of Althumans. However, for the new occupation of Carina - a new idea had been put forward, as the Primarch recalled. With a button, she spoke again.
"Madame Faure, report to my office."
The voice rang throughout the complex, and soon enough - someone new took her step throughout the building. She wasn't, however, an Arakhkhari. Her heels clicked against the steel ground, as she made her approach to the prefabricated building.
She was Ginette Faure - Luetian traitor. Her hair was something of a blonde so light it was nearly white, and with a somewhat fair-skinned face, and a lithe form which had been covered in her civilian clothing - albeit, with a purple sash upon her arm that had marked her as someone who had turned traitor - along with a silver pin upon her breastpocket with the Arakhkhari eagle there.
During the occupation, she had been something of an informant on her fellow Luetians - eagerly aiding her captors in learning the Luetian language, and, in turn, learning some of the language of their occupiers. When the occupation came to an end as the entire population was deported for... future use, she, alone, was chosen to remain behind. She saw her chance at power, and saw no time to waste at seizing it, as she alone remained on the island while others had to be conduced to a more cooperative attitude.
Somewhat curiously, a little tail flung around behind her - with a similar coloration to her hair, moving only a bit as she walked - and from her head, two ears - somewhat catlike, flopped around and twitched - for she wasn't human, but a Felind.
And as she stepped into the room of the Primarch, she gave a quick salute akin to those the officers had taken - the sight gratifying the Primarch, watching the curious little creature as she entered.
"Madame Faure..."
The Primarch spoke softly, almost purring - somewhat ironic, perhaps.
"Do sit down - and relax."
The Felind sat down, taking a seat where one of the officers had sat prior. The Primarch, for her part, drew a bottle of wine from under the table - Arakhkhari Spring Wine, along with two glasses - at that, her ears noticeably perked a little. It'd been one of her favorite parts of the occupation thus far.
"May I ask why I've been brought here, my lady?"
She spoke, without quite keeping her eyes off of the bottle of wine - with a pour, the burgundy-colored liquid was let loose into two glasses.
The Primarch answered after letting it pour, pushing the glass to her feline companion.
"The time is coming, Madame, in which the course of the future of your people will be... decided."
The catgirl took a long sip, her interest piqued.
"How might I take a role in your decision, my lady?"
The Primarch had so enjoyed this servile attitude thus far - it was what she needed. People, willing to do anything for power, and with the will to seize it - even if such power was at the cost of every shred of dignity in one's existence. And when she spoke, it was with a knowing smile.
"A moment is approaching, of course, that we shall come into the administration of a large body of your... countrymen. I believe you would make a suitable individual to help... ease the transition of power for such individuals as they adjust to the new administration."
She leaned in across the table, her smile still wide.
"Accomplish this task for us, and I can see about extending the arrangement that exists as of present. Perhaps expanding its scope."
This made the felind practically giddy with excitement - to the point where... as she leaned in on the edge of her seat, taking another sip of her wine - her tail flicking about her seat, left to right, in a way that amused the Primarch. Felinds were quite easy to... gauge.
And Faure spoke again, trying to suppress a rumbling purr.
"I will see it done."
The Primarch stared at her, and took a sip of her own wine - keeping it raised to her lips afterwards, as she spoke.
"See that you do."



•Carina Islands, Luetia, Kolano•

•00:42, June 30th, 2024•



The new effort had to be done - the invasion of Bodroasia could not be left to flounder due to attrition.

Although they had only just arrived, the vanguard units of the 1st Sovalan Sea Fleet would make their way towards the Island of Carina, deep into the night - tracking the small island at long range. With them, the 1st Amphibious Assault Division was following behind in their landing ships - the effort was, naturally, to be made as a practice for the real invasion of Bodroasia, as well as an excellent second staging point for the invasion of that accursed place.

Ahead of them, naturally, three submarines progressed deep into the night - one much larger than the others. The Accordant Corruption itself, it raised ahead - progressing ever deeper towards the island itself, before slowly coming about to a designated position. Funnily enough, they had to become increasingly creative in terms of navigation - the fact that there weren't any satellites to provide navigation data had certainly complicated matters. Although several maps had been appropriated from the local population, and, indeed, there remained some basic aides to provide some measure of navigation to ships - most of these were somewhat inaccessible to them. Some rather basic aerial studies conducted had been able to determine the approximate radius of the planet they were on, and, using some barometric approximations - determining the approximate height of the atmosphere.
And, of course - gazing at the stars, they were able to determine the relative position within the universe. Many, of course, were astonished to find they were not only not on the same planet as they had been on - but in an entirely different galaxy, at the edge of an interstellar void. Some had taken to considering that interstellar void sacrosanct, being some expression of Inan - others, of course, did not consider it so, being only a coincidental phenomenon. Regardless of whatever great cosmological or theological studies would have to be conducted in the future, for this time only, they served one purpose - using the stars for guidance. By tracking and comparing the motion of the stars, along with the approximate radius of the planet - one could make a loose determination of one's relative position upon the planet.

All, of course, incredibly necessary for the coordination of large bodies of personnel and naval vessels. Of course, in the future, they would have to begin establishing some kind of satellite network - but that was yet far into the future. For the moment, it would do - as they slowly came about to the island, they no longer had need of that outdated mode of navigation, instead relying on simply using the relative position and angle from the island to determine their own position.
The antenna slowly raised from the Accordant Corruption, as the hull itself remained below the waves - reaching high above the water, it began to distort, corrupt, and eventually, completely jam every radio signal coming from that little island.
Now with a digital separation of the island from the rest of the world, what had to follow was is physical separation - as the two DRAK-II submarines began to circle around it, continuing to watch their sonar screens intently, watching for even the slightest mark of an enemy submarine or of approaching enemy vessels.
Of course, they were able to spot something else - one... two... three - more and more.

The advent of Arakhkhar's navy.

Three black hulls cut through the dark night, followed behind by landing ships belonging to the 1st Amphibious Assault Division. Within the landing craft, Shock Troopers sat in their landing craft - each huddled next to each other, their armaments locked and prepared for combat - although, as they had been told, they would not be experiencing much in that regard - they were to fight a little campaign of annihilation against any organized resistance, and it wasn't particularly careful in that respect.

Soon enough, from the submerged DRAK-IIs - a series of little 'thump's could be heard into the night, as canisters were thrust into the air through launch tubes - as they pierced the surface of the water, the canisters fell apart, and from within, a little drone's wings spread out, the drone righting itself over the sea, finding itself in flight. Three such drones were deployed, and, with their cameras - they began to identify what seemed to be military installations on the island - it would take a considerable deal of the Island's resources to maintain such a large garrison for its small population, and a considerable degree of it's area, then, as well.
It took time, of course, for these little spots to be pointed out, designated, marked for annihilation.

In the meantime, those three battlecruisers continued to make their approach - and at 10 kilometers from the island, they may very well have been visible to the island's population.
Aboard the bridge of one of them, the lead ship of the class - the ANS Eminent Rise,, where a series of glowing violet panels lay bare - each imbued with countless inscriptions and indicators about the various systems which demonstrated the ship's impressive capabilities, and where a number of officers moved and shuffled about.
Commander Acina was aboard, and she continued her efforts to watch the little black mass which had formed their target.

"Commander."
The voice of one of her subordinates.

Acina turned to face her, and walked over to the officer's terminal - leaning over her shoulder as she did so.
"Report."
She spoke callously.
The officer spoke quickly, ensuring to be concise.
"We have received our targeting orders, as has the rest of the fleet. Volley-fire on your signal."

Acina looked away, and then turned to the officer at another part of the ship - and with a tentative, gloved hand, she ran it over a little railing - finding not even a hint of dust upon it, she looked to the officer who stood at the ship's digital controls. By then, all of the bridge crew was looking at her.
With a cautious voice, she spoke - calculating motion in her head.
"Full stop. Bring us about... 2 degrees starboard."
The order was quickly answered, and the ship made its slight adjusting turn - with a slight touch upon the screen, the officer brought the colossal ship to bare.

The Commander then proceeded to her chair - a few tentative steps taken in the room, as the bridge fell silent - only the hums and whirs of equipment now going.
She leaned back into it, and with a slight turn made in the chair - she turned to the gunnery officer.
"Lock targets. Load High Explosive."
It was answered quickly with a single voice among the silence.
"Targets locked."

Acina gave slight pause - and with it, the great and terrible guns of the ships turned toward their targets - each of them of 225mm in caliber, each of them kept with three barrels in two turrets - as high explosive shells were taken up by their great autoloaders and brought into their waiting cavity.
And with her little pause, she waited further.

"All cannons report ready."
Without hesitation, Acina spoke - and the break of her silence now meant the break of the silence of the night - and end to peace. It was almost hushed, but spoken sharply - with harsh intent.
"Fire."
By the Vicereine's Will.
By the Empress's Design.
Your culture will adapt to service us.

Wherever applicable, factbooks/dispatches take precedence over stats for RP. Rated the absolute most totalitarian nation on this index.

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The Astovia
Envoy
 
Posts: 238
Founded: Sep 18, 2023
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby The Astovia » Tue Jul 02, 2024 7:28 pm

With the Luetian garrison caught off guard by the sudden nature of the attacks upon the island, the forces would rapidly attempt to respond with whatever they had, using slightly older coastal-guns to attempt to respond to the aggressor. Obviously, already under fire from an unknown force, this response would be minimal at best with some guns already disabled in initial strikes, with command upon the island attempting to keep cohesion amongst the garrison despite the bombardments. As the remaining coastal guns attempted to continue their barrage, one of the lucky strikes from the ships would manage to strike the ammunition storage for the guns, if anyone was still asleep upon the island, the detonation of the coastal guns munitions would certainly make for a rude awakening. With no way to attempt to take out the ships, the remaining Luetian forces would start to take defensive positions around the island, preparing for the inevitable landing. Yet it seemed that the aggressors would have different plans, with a second barrage beginning, this time made up of smaller rounds, with the aggressors utilizing aircraft, at least from the sound of the engine in the sky to continue their attack upon the island.

Ultimately, the Luetians were suppressed and outnumbered, with the defenders attempting to utilize whatever anti-air was left to try to keep the skies clear for as long as possible. With the Luetian gunboat in the harbor being rapidly ordered to attempt to intercept and divert the attention for as long as possible away from the island. Being the only thing the Luetians had remaining that could at the very least do some level of damage to the attacking ships, at the very least, it could momentarily provide a distraction for the invaders. With the effects of the loitering munitions hitting the island hard, the gunboat would quickly attempt to slink out of port to move to intercept the invading ships. Without time to properly prepare a defensive operation, the Luetians would be left to use whatever could be made under the bombardment and loitering munitions or hastily converted into a defensive position. With communications jammed as well, it was only a matter of time before the island would be seized by the invaders.




Further north, the Astovian fleet would continue on their patrol, though the Cepvinians had not made themselves known, the fleet would continue to remain on alert. With the patrol expected to remain calm throughout the rest of the duration, an argument can be made that the Astovians would slack slightly on their alert, with officers not caring as much about less important crewmen resting. Yet for the most part, the ships are still combat ready, waiting for a hint of a Cepvinian strike force to grace their sight. Every now and then, the radio stations pick up unknown frequencies speaking in unknown tongues, presumed to just be technical errors or the ship picking up civilian radio stations that have broken up into these unknown languages. Nonetheless, the Astovians would take notice of these radio signals, typically occurring at frequent times, with the fleet eventually finding their longest one yet, they would elect to forward the information to shore, asking them if they had detected similar strange occurrences.

With the strange radio signals in unknown languages occurring, even if it could be reasoned away, it still left an air of unease as to exactly what was causing it. Though most of those aware of it would elect not to dwell on it long, brushing it off in the aforementioned possible causes, it would remain a phenomenon that would require further investigation at sometime within the future. Whatever it could be.




On the Luetian front, the war continues to go in the favor of Cepvinia, having broken through the Luetian lines, Cepvinia would push ever further causing chaos amongst whatever remained of the Luetian Army's command. With much of the Regency Council attempting to encourage the Emperor to accept Cepvinian demands and surrender the West Luetian Territory before the Republic took their offer of "good-will and peace" back. Confusion continued to set in upon the Luetian Army, with Army Intelligence practically dissolving as units are lost in the jumble of mixed remnant units. In an attempt to restore some sort of cohesion in the Imperial Army, the Imperial Navy would get approval to merge whatever was left of the Imperial Army into their command structure. Though the effort is sluggish and in many places word fails to get to the Imperial Army forces of the new command structure, with whatever is left of the Luetian Army practically dissolving under the pressure of the Cepvinian Army's mobile warfare. There is no doubt, the war in Luetia is soon to end, with the Greater Republic shattering whatever is left of the Luetian Empire's will to fight in a humiliating war.
I make 3D models or something.
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Is something supposed to go here?

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Arakhkhar
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5003
Founded: Jan 03, 2024
Psychotic Dictatorship

Onslaught

Postby Arakhkhar » Tue Jul 09, 2024 8:13 pm

Onslaught

•Carina, Luetia, Kolano•

•01:32, June 30th, 2024•



From the darkened bridge, with the flashes of orange in the night exploding all around them - and Commander Acina squinted a little bit from the bridge.
A sudden sound - a colossal one, in fact - though before she heard it, she saw it - a great fireball rising from the island itself, a shockwave hitting the bridge - rocking the vast ship only a little.
From which, she continued to watch - unblinking.

Her subordinate spoke up with a calm voice.
"It appears... we have eliminated their ammunition stockpile."
The Commander's eyes continued to dart about, as she continually monitored the situation. The RADAR, however, identified something on the water - something not their own.
"Enemy vessel has been sighted."

The Commander spoke without hesitation, a sharp tone to her voice - she considered how a vessel even managed to escape the initial reconnaissance run.
"Liquidate it."
"Yes, Commander."
And within a few moments - the turrets of the massive vessel turned, the hum and whir of electromagnets quickly turning each of the triple-barreled turrets towards their target.

It did not take hardly a second for them to traverse - the sound of anti-aircraft fire now beginning to stir the darkness of the night, tracer fire illuminating where shells found or missed their marks.
Six 225mm High-Explosive shells were immediately sent flying out of each barrel in what was already a broadside - perhaps overkill for the little gunboat.
With the full volley fired - simply put, it did not have a chance.
One - two - three hit with a full volley from the Eminent Rise, a forth merely grazing, and a last one hitting - but its fuse not activating, simply passing straight through the vessel - and the last one failing to hit, due to the ship's small size. Regardless, three 225mm shells was more than enough to turn the Gunboat into... well, nothing.
The first struck the bow - tearing through its bow a ways before detonating within the ship's interior - the second, of course, fusing immediately upon coming into contact with an armored part of the ship - and the third, striking an engine.
The combination, regardless of the graze or dodge - resulted in a cataclysmic fireball as the ship was entirely torn apart instantly by three simultaneous explosions - parts and pieces flying out, the ship itself having been torn in half by the successive blasts - the few survivors dodging into the water... or else, trapped inside - as pieces of the broken hull began to detach and rapidly sink below the waves, swallowed up whole by the all devouring black sea.

On that end, the Luetians were... woefully unprepared for night-fighting - being that they lacked night vision or radar gear. Though some of the loitering munitions were indeed torn apart - it would always make a clear mark of each firing position, coordinated by the unmanned vehicles existing purposefully to identify targets - which, as soon as anyone dared to open fire - would get slammed by either 225mm HE or by a quite angry drone spewing ball bearings at a couple-dozen kilometers-per-second.

Needless to say - what anti-aircraft capabilities remained were being rapidly disassembled. If anyone so much as peaked their head out to look out, they were hit - as explosions rang out across the island, each one a cataclysmic thunderous blast as steel and shrapnel, limbs and blood went flying into any one of a dozen directions with each.
The constant sounds of thumps, of dull but sharp points against the night continued throughout the entire time.

And soon enough, a new sound filled the air - the sound of helicopter blades cutting through the air, roaring with their incessant might.
Aboard each one - a full squad, each equipped with their own full loads of equipment and munitions - and from each helicopter, 30mm autocannons immediately blazing at anything that dared to move as the large aircraft tilted forward, rapidly approaching over the sea - tracers lighting their way as they made their onset perfectly clear - acting under the cover of automatic fire.
And although the helicopters began their approach - the landing of a much larger contingent would already be in progress, as the landing craft made their approach to the island - cutting through blackened seas, and through the wreckage of the eviscerated gunboat - rapidly preparing their onset onto the island itself.

The landing itself would soon take place - and at key positions kept suppressed with alternating artillery or munitions fire, the airborne Shock Troopers would descend via long black cables that were dropped from them - the doors sliding open, and the troopers descending below - their purple goggles glowing brightly in the darkness.
Their rifles were at the ready - and undoubtedly, the sight was something which would have shocked the Luetians - the very design of a helicopter was something unknown to them, and to see them in action - and used in such a fashion, riding over the horizon - lit only by the intermittent glow of tracer-fire - it would have made a... first impression.

And with the onset of the landing craft - soon enough, they would make their way onto the shores themselves - unloading their cargo, infantry fighting vehicles, which rumbled and roared to life - beginning their assault onto the beach-proper.
And of course - the Shock Troopers inside began to depart, rushing out the backs of their vehicles - running in their squads - some of them deploying light reconaissance drones from their backpacks to maintain absolute situational awareness in the situation at hand.

The fight for Carina itself had begun - but truth be told, it was already over.
By the Vicereine's Will.
By the Empress's Design.
Your culture will adapt to service us.

Wherever applicable, factbooks/dispatches take precedence over stats for RP. Rated the absolute most totalitarian nation on this index.

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The Astovia
Envoy
 
Posts: 238
Founded: Sep 18, 2023
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby The Astovia » Sat Jul 13, 2024 2:36 pm

The gunboat’s detonation was clearly visible from the island - Luetian soldiers peaking up, in hopes that it was one of the attacking ships struck by their counterattack - only to find it was their gunboat, the only means by which they could make their defense pertinent - torn apart.

Hopelessly outnumbered, the forces would still attempt a defensive around and within the town upon the island. Though with the threat from the air, any larger movements were risky. It was in this, of course, that Arakhkhari forces could begin to proliferate into something of a specialty of theirs - urban warfare. Utilizing H24/L drones, deployed from the backpack or from the accompanying AIV-23 infantry fighting vehicles - movements could be precisely tracked by thermal cameras, identified, and marked for bombardment or by Shock Troopers sallying forth.

A strange occurrence could be heard - with one of the amphibious units, one that looked different from the others - mounting a strange turret with two 40mm grenade launchers, and a prominent loudspeaker - and soon enough, it began to call into the night of Carina - it was the voice of a Luetian - not the clumsy Luetian that the occupiers had picked up, nor accented some strange way - it was the voice of a woman - although, curiously, she seemed to roll her ‘R’s in a prolonged, peculiar way - and of course, the more keen-eared among the scattered Luetians may have been able to recognize the rather odd, uniquely felind-like accent.
“For the sake of your country - please, lay down your arms. You stand nothing to gain from further resistance! Think of your children and families awaiting you at home - do not leave them without a father, a husband, a brother, a son!”

With the already weak morale of the Luetian Army, the voice would be yet another hit to the shattered morale. Some would elect to abandon the defensive, for those who had previously lived on the island, they would seek to return home. Others would decide to attempt to surrender, in the process both breaking whatever remained of morale further, and weakening the Luetian defenders.

Shock Troopers that managed to find the surrendering Luetians did, indeed, honor the word of that voice - having orders to take captives wherever possible - who were, naturally, immediately searched, disarmed, bound, and then kept in a site where they could be watched until the rest of the island could be seized.
The first of the mechanized units would approach the island’s largest town.

For the Luetians who had refused to surrender, the largest town would be where the majority of the Luetian Garrison had taken to defend. With a lack of heavy armor, the Luetians would be left with light anti-tank cannons and anti-tank rifles to take out the attacking forces' armored equipment. There had been no time to set up defenses, and even if there was time, the air cover of the enemy forces would have certainly set out to wreck havoc against them. Thus, any defenses were hasty and improvised, being made up of whatever was onhand when the defenders had taken position.

The first effort, of course, was to use the thermal reconnaissance to identify any definite threat to armors. The AIV-31 was not yet widely proliferated, which would mean that they would have to play significantly more cautiously than they typically would. Shock Troopers exited the back - while, with the actual vehicles themselves - they would slowly approach, laying down suppressive fire as necessary with their 60mm guns.

The 60 millimeter guns were certainly enough to shred through the thin armor that the Luetian Anti-Tank Cannons had, as well as whatever initial defenses had been hastily clobbered together. Though the Luetians did not just take the beating, with one of the anti-tank cannons not initially destroyed firing at the rough location of one of the armored vehicles, using the muzzle flash to help gauge the location and possible distance. From windows or from thin overturned carts, anti-tank rifles that the Luetians had brought would open fire as well, trying to take out, or at the very least, immobilize the armored vehicles.

One of the anti-tank cannons would find its mark - striking the lead vehicle’s track and engine, causing it to veer to the side. What followed was, of course, a small volley of two 225mm shells fired by the Eminent Rise at the location of the anti-tank guns - with the Shock Troopers advancing, beginning to rush forward - still away from the bombardment, but moving towards the anti-tank rifle positions. Loitering munitions, still buzzing into the air, would continue to soar down - their engines roaring, and crashing into whatever they could find.

The 225 shells easily destroyed the positions of the anti-tank equipment, taking with it a portion of some of the houses nearby from both the shockwave and debris. With it being a reminder that even if the Luetians had set up, it would be destroyed as fast as it had been set up. Through it all, the Luetian Command of the garrison desperately attempted to keep cohesion, and with the attackers having easily shredded through the only real things that would have given them a chance, a hesitant decision to surrender is made. As Arakhkhari forces entered the town, they would notice that at one of the buildings expected to be some sort of hastily converted command center, that the forces inside had draped a white table cloth from one of the windows, marking a surrender.

The voice from the speakers once again rang out through the town - as the sound of gunfire slowly came to a stop.
“Send your two highest-ranking commanding officers. Unarmed.”

The Luetians would cooperate, within two minutes two Luetian officers walked down the road, from the look of their uniform, probably a Major and a Captain.
Stepping out into the cold nighttime street, the marks of blood and the scorch of where explosions had graced once residential areas - as they walked, purple goggles watched from the windows, from each side. It was… an odd sensation, to say the least - that feeling of being watched, of hearing the electronic, mechanical voices of Shock Troopers ushering Luetian soldiers to disarm.

There was no heroic last stand, no brave final charge, only a brief fight that ended with one side humiliated and surrendering. It didn’t take long before the small courtyard that the Luetians were disarming in was filled with all sorts of small arms. Bolt actions, revolvers, lever action shotguns, all of it, disarmed and tossed into unorganized piles in the courtyard.

In fast moving TT-44 Arachnid Armored Personnel Carriers, Shock Troopers would move to rapidly secure key points at the island - widely communicating the surrender of the Luetian garrison’s command as they did so, and specifically, moving to the port itself.

Meanwhile, with the two commanding officers now approaching - they were greeted soon enough by one of the armored vehicles that had spearheaded the assault - an AIV-23, rather, a command variant. The back opened up with the whir of hydraulics, and soon enough, two figures would exit the back - one, a Shock Trooper Ordinal - with black armor and some silver decorations, she was something of a squad leader - waiting for the arrival of the commanding officer capable of accepting their total surrender.
It took hardly 10 minutes before a helicopter would arrive - with it, carrying Commander Acina - who watched on at the ruined and burnt town below as they made their approach - with it, ruminating over the course of this little campaign. The second figure was, of course, Ginette Faure - the felind who had collaborated during the occupation of Antlia, now returned to help coordinate the surrender of Carina.

As the helicopter sat itself down onto the ground, the blades slowly coming to a halt - Commander Acina stepped outside, her black, immaculate uniform adorned with silver gleaming just a little in the light of the stars - and with her, the felind - as well as a number of Shock Troopers to form their escort.
One of the Shock Troopers who was inside a building gestured for the group to enter inside - with her shouting something in her native language to the Commander. It was evident, of course, to the Luetians - that these were no Cepvinians.

Even if they weren’t Cepvinians, it was clear that they were only speeding up the inevitable defeat of Luetia. After a moment, the two Luetians would enter, looking around the room as they took in the numbers of Shock Troopers.

Commander Acina and the felind soon entered the room - the black uniform immaculate, even in the dim light of the glow of the violet eyes that stood around them. The felind, of course, seemed to be pale - not nearly as much as the commander herself, who was pale to a ghostly degree, with violet eyes that looked at them sharply. She wore her civilian clothes, albeit with a purple armband around her arm that marked her affiliation.
She spoke in her native language to the felind.
“Ginette, govor iktivir dol’ sidir.”
The felind spoke in turn in Luetian.
“Sit down.”
She spoke softly, in her own… strange felind accent - barely detectable. The Commander and the felind sat down at the table, in the chairs that had been hastily dragged their - and those for the Luetians, also placed on the opposite end of the wooden dining table.

The two Luetian Officers would take their seats, with the Captain handing the Major a few bound papers. After a moment, they would look up to the opposing forces, seemingly prepared for what is to come.
The Commander spoke in her language once more.
“Isir sprosir vi irtivi absolutdiditir.”
The felind spoke once more, translating.
“We demand for your unconditional and total surrender.”

The Major sat there, flipping through the bound papers, the Captain looking over to him as they sat in silence for a moment.
“I must request that my men who are locals from this island be permitted to return to their families.”
The Commander continued to stare, before the felind leaned in, whispering, translating for her benefit. The commander seemed to understand, before speaking once again.
“Post diditir i exarmir, va.”
She thought for a moment, before deciding that she needed to introduce herself so that her enemy knew who they were surrendering to.
“Iv yul Kommantark Acina. Imperitiviv Kheritarkstaat te Arakhkhar.”
The felind took a moment to translate.
“She has agreed - after their surrender and disarming. She is Commander Acina. Imperial Principality of Arakhkhar.”

The Luetians exchanged a look before continuing, flipping through the bound papers. It would be another few brief moments before the Major would speak again.
“Understanding that as a part of our surrender, I request to know what will become of us after the war. Especially regarding those who are not from this island.”

The Captain would remove his hat, running a hand through his hair as he looked through his satchel, pulling out a small paper he’d hand to the Major.

The Commander spoke after the short comment was translated by the felind, and again, she nodded.
“Et insula vud’, s insula Antlii, vir Koberndistriktiv te insuliviti Karina. Irtivi solkrieli vir inkapturarkviti te vvak, i vud’ tservir te Vaykrayn.”
The felind took note, and nodded.
“This island, with the island of Antlia, become the Military district of the Carina islands. Your soldiers will be taken prisoners of war… and will serve the Vicereine.”
The Commander then continued.
“Postvvak, isir kre’at un Intendantstaat vi tsiviladministratsii. Ikvir vud’ kollaboratir il dirir.”
The felind, following after, spoke in turn, translating. She didn’t translate it directly, in an attempt to be more diplomatic.
“After the war, we will create an Intendancy for civil administration. You will collaborate or… face dire consequences.”

The two Luetians would exchange a glance before continuing, clearly not impressed with the statements of serving a foreign leader or being forced to collaborate. The Captain would eventually break the silence, the tone of his voice sounding unimpressed.
“I believe we are done here. The island has surrendered, there is nothing else to add.”
The Commander thought for a few moments, before drawing a piece of paper - written in her own language, of course, setting it onto the table - along with a pen - she gestured to two dotted lines at the bottom which seemed to be spots for signatures.
The felind spoke, now, sensing what she would be asked to say.
“You will sign.”

“What does it say?”
The Captain asked, scanning over the document, looking as if he just wanted to get this over with.

The felind spoke softly - leaning in, her tail flicking about to the left and right.
“It is the instrument of your surrender. A simple formality.”

The Major would take the pen first, slowly signing it before handing the pen off to the Captain, who signed it with a little more reluctance. Either way, now the papers said that the Luetians had officially surrendered. After signing, the Major would stand, unholstering his pistol before holding it out for The Commander to take, a formal sign of his surrender.

Acina looked at the revolver with some curiosity for a moment - before she reached forward, her black leather gloved hand clutching the revolver, taking it from him. She examined it, studying it for flaws or imperfections.
It was in… alright condition. Not particularly well kept, nor in particularly poor condition.
She examined the mechanisms behind it - examining the cylinder, checking if it was kept loaded - before finally handing it to one of the Shock Troopers standing guard - before she left, however, she spoke softly to one of her guards.
“Dirir te kapitan. Tevik te Major vi… vasilir.”
There wasn’t any need for a translation, as pair of her Shock Troopers suddenly grabbed the two Luetian officers - beginning to drag them elsewhere, separating them. The Major was to be taken to the helicopter - while the captain was dragged to an isolated part of town.

For the Captain, his fate was a sole bullet to the back of the head - an ignominious death, to be sure. While the Major would be brought back to the Eminent Rise for holding.

With everything cleared up now, the last of the Luetians would be disarmed, leaving the Arakhkhar forces with a stockpile of various Luetian guns and equipment, as well as a proper view of the damage done to the island and the defenses of the island.




Further north, away from the fighting in Carina, the Luetians were finding themselves losing to a more known enemy, with Cepvinian Forces making a push towards Morel-sur-Mer, trying to break through whatever remaining resistance the Luetians can muster. With some units becoming aware that the Imperial Navy has taken the place of whatever is left of the Imperial Army, Naval Command would begin attempting to organize a defensive, hoping to stall the Cepvinian Army just long enough for the Luetians to have a chance at a counterattack. With a lack of armored equipment hitting the Luetian Army hard, elements of the Luetian Army would be left having to dig in with little equipment that could take out tanks.

In Morel-sur-Mer, the Emperor would grow evermore wary of the encroaching Cepvinian Army, and with the rift between him and the Regency Council growing, he knew that he would have to prepare to flee the country. Nonetheless, he still held a hope in the back of his mind that the war would be turned around, that there could be a counterattack that would send the Cepvinians running all the way back to Liebenberg. Yet, he knew that these were hollow hopes, and that Luetia would not be able to last much longer, nonetheless, he was the emperor, and he would have to stand firm in the face of this insurmountable force, Luetia had lost so much already, they could not lose their emperor.

At sea, the Luetian Navy would attempt to raid Cepvinian ships with what remained of their submarine forces, hoping that at the very least, they could stall the Cepvinian Navy from being able to wreak havoc on what remained of the rest of the Navy. Though as the Luetians prepare for a last naval attack, the Cepvinians would have their own plans, preparing to deploy a carrier force to level the Luetian Navy in port. If they could wipeout the Luetian Submarines, then they could launch this attack with little resistance from the Luetians.




In the east in Olvania, the Astovians would prepare for a largescale push, hoping to encircle Vollezee and begin to make a push for Dorbüren and bring an end to the Communist upstart. The war would end soon, the Royal Army would make sure of that, the final preparations would have to be hastily done if the Astovians wanted to have any chance of ending the war within the month. Even to the Royal Army's command, Luetia was a lost cause, there was no point in even hoping to try to help them, rather seeing it wise to just leave them to their fate. With the Royal Navy even drawing up plans to destroy the Luetian Navy rather than let it be captured by the Cepvinians.

At sea the Astovian Patrol continues with not a single hostile having entered the gun sights of the RANS Orbán Kristóf, leading to the command crew wondering about what the Cepvinians could be preparing themselves. Even if they were not going to experience a single piece of action during the war, at the very least the crew could be thankful that they weren't going to have to deal with whatever the Luetian Navy was going through. Yet at the same time it left a nervous tension in the air as they found nothing but empty water for miles on end.
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Arakhkhar
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5003
Founded: Jan 03, 2024
Psychotic Dictatorship

For the Empire

Postby Arakhkhar » Mon Jul 15, 2024 1:20 am

For the Empire

•Carina, Carina Military District, Kolano•

•July 3rd, 2024•



The invasion of Carina was over - and for the first time in its history, an integral part of Kolano - an entire part of a nation fell to the Arakhkhari heel.

It was the first indeed - and for the Primarch Asira, she felt it was not the last.
The effort to seize Carina had finally yielded a quick success, and with that in mind, the effort towards securing the logistical supply-line for the invasion of Bodroasia could continue.
One after another, prisoners of war heave'd and ho'd, the effort being done towards the expansion of the island's port towards a much larger one capable of supporting the repair and resupply of the much larger ships accorded to the Bodroasian operation.

However, the occupation had... other things accorded to it. As per the right of conquest within the Lirvittian and Arakhkhari militaries - a Shock Trooper was entitled to slaves of her choice. Although distribution had not yet begun - lists had already been drawn up for who would get what.
Far more important than the allocation of Concubines, however, is the allocation of resources for an imminent invasion. The arms seized from the Luetians, were, naturally - kept into a stockpile, with some choice examples taken as war trophies or shipped home to Arakhkhar for analysis or reproduction.

The Primarch, of course, sat in her newly built office on Carina - rather than being a prefabricated building, it was simply one of the buildings belonging to one of those civilians who were killed during the invasion, and thus - empty. With her, endless pieces of paper - detailing damages, construction reports, census data.
The table was, of course, Luetian made - something interesting to her, being that she had never quite been in a place like this before. The brick building was something strange to her Arakhkhari sensibilities - not offensive, not by any stretch - but instead, a sort of... strange experience - like stepping into a museum of a subject you are not accustomed to.
It felt, of course, entirely peculiar to her - looking at this place, and indeed, how it was akin to... well, times long past. A time she remembered well, being what she was - and something of a time she missed, in a way.
Regardless, it was a time that she had been entrusted with its annihilation.

It was almost a pity.

But there was no greater pity than to deny someone the Empress's grace - no greater cruelty than that. And so she thought, of course, and with that - with Shock Troopers standing outside, and a full number of divisions effectively crammed onto the island - there was much consideration to be made for her ancient mind.
Some of them, of course, revolved around that curious little felind which had helped them in negotiation for the surrender of this place. She stood up, slowly, examining the room around her - how the shadows were cast by the dim lighting, how the thin plaster on the brick seemed to chafe a little in the past - leaving small streaks and sections wholly bare. She peered from the window, and watched what she had wrought - the populace, of course, locked into strict curfews, how they gathered in their homes in fear of what had occurred. Of course, rather stringent searches had taken place - investigating for any trace of weaponry, of any means of resistance. Naturally, some had those implements. An old hunting shotgun, perhaps. Something left over. A family heirloom.

Those instruments were, of course, destroyed. Along with their owners who refused to give them up. Fear - fear was an instrument, one that should be employed liberally for the greatest effectiveness. To inflict fear, of course, was to inflict a form of compliance - and compliance, ultimately, was what is ultimately desired. One such individual, however, sat - kneeling in her office, sitting atop a piece of perfectly laid rubber tarp. A hood sat around the man's head, and he was bound behind his back - and ultimately, he spoke nothing - having been drugged to that effect.
Rather, a lack of resistance was what was ultimately desired. If they saw fit, ultimately, to exterminate the entire population - that was something that could be readily done. But, for the moment, they served better simply as instruments with which to assemble a base.
Asira took a few steps, walking over across the wooden planked floor which creaked under her heels - coming to a small console, before finally speaking into a little black microphone that clung to the end of a metallic cord - taking no mind of the kneeling prisoner.
"Madame Faure - your presence is required at my office."
The felind immediately woke from her little cat-nap, sleeping in a... requisitioned house that had been granted to her for the simple purpose of a reward for her service.
Ginette walked briskly - having sprung to life with the onset of her voice. It was something of a prerequisite for her, of course, for the very nature of her service to Arakhkhar demanded it as such. She could enjoy it, sometimes - but she could not ever quite let her guard down.

The Luetian felind had turned to something of a useful asset. A collaborator, of course, and one who had been quite... adamant in her service. Asira had been suspicious, of course - such ready treason was always something that had demanded... attention. Whether she was some foolish resistance member that had attempted to use her position to gain a grip - or whether she was genuinely someone who had... seen the right order of things, and was indeed willing to collaborate in service of a new order. Regardless of which it was - it was something that had to be... monitored. And she, of course, kept tightly controlled.
And sometimes, the best way to control someone was to give them some false authority - to give someone a sense of control, that she was... important.

The felind, of course, was oblivious to such considerations - and in the time since the beginning of the occupation of her home, she had come to a new understanding.
More than that, of course, she'd come to the most important of things - a new sense of fashion.
It was grey, of course - an immaculate ensemble, one comprised of a rather simple cloth, one with something of silver and black to adorn it. It was a uniform, of course - a uniform that was of a new design, strangely. It was something that had to be done, given her... unique physiology. Naturally, something of a cap, as well - something that had... given her some occasional ridicule from the Shock Troopers. She was, after all, a strange creature to them - and seeing her in such a... uniform... was something that they had found utterly adorable, but not quite the image of someone who had quite earned their respect. Many, of course, still viewed her with some degree of... suspicion, quite like the Primarch.
She, however, had not given much mind, ultimately, to such considerations - for she believed, of course, that it was only natural, in the course of progress - that some might doubt her resolve to the Empress's design.

And with a few steps taken - past the black-uniformed secretary who gave all but a glance before motioning for the felind to enter the office - she made her way back to the Primarch's office.
When she finally heard Ginette approaching up those steps, there was something given for a strange sense in the catgirl - seeing the man, bound there. But for the Primarch, she, of course, found herself with... a solution. A method of evaluation. A test, perhaps.
Asira spoke softly.
"Madame Ginette. Please - sit down."
She gestured to a chair - a four-legged wooden thing with a little cushion placed before her.
The Felind did so - nervously sitting down, resting her weary self upon the cushion of her homeland's design. It was something strange, no doubt - to sit in the home of your countryman no longer - now someone left behind. The weight of treason - it was one that... both hung upon her soul, and lifted her up.

Today, it would be something much heavier.
She spoke softly, her own... curious accent applied to her pronunciation of the language of her occupiers.
"You asked me here, madame Primarch?"

There was a little pause before the Primarch spoke next... and when she did, it was with a back turned to the felind.
"Madame Ginette - I find myself with something of a predicament. It is the natural course of a conquest... one to... interface with the locals. In that... natural course, one must consider a certain... distance."
She turned around to face Ginette - her violet eyes piercing the dim light of the room, the small... feel of dust illuminated.
"And of course, with any distance - it becomes... necessary to... bridge the gap."

Ginette continued to stare, not yet finding her place to speak. She began to consider those words, and every now and then - her eyes darted to that... bound prisoner, who shifted nervously with each moment. There was something sinister in this exchange, she felt.

Asira took a few heavy steps - her black heels clicking sharply with the ground, as she made her approach - finally sitting down in front of the Catgirl - her mind set on... only one thing. And when she spoke again, it was in a more... serious tone. She spoke gravely.
"But that bridge - it must be durable. It must weather each and every storm. It has to... keep steady, even if one side feels ready to pull away. It cannot be built on... shaky foundations."
She spoke more sharply, now.
"Consider this an... evaluation, then."

She began to fiddle with a pen - letting it twirl about her hand as she spoke to Ginette. The bound prisoner, on the contrary, seemed nearly ready to wake up.
Ginette traded a glance with the prisoner - before speaking up.
"I... I understand, I believe. I'll do what it takes to serve the Empire."

Asira smiled a little - her eyes glowing just a bit more.
"Tell me, felind."
Ginette cringed, if only a little, at being referred to merely by her species - but she knew better than to object, as the Primarch continued.
"Why do you serve the Empire?"

There was some consideration given by the felind as to this fact. She had... much to say - and when she spoke, her eyes were full of conviction.
"Every night... growing up in Luetia, we were given faith in an Emperor. A false emperor, no matter what my... peers outside may say. And more than that, no more than a puppet of the regency council. Every day, as Cepvinians crawled up to our borders - and as you have told us, now that they rest not far from our capital."

Asira watched closely, still fiddling with the little black pen - letting it glint in the light of the nascent sun. Ginette, however, continued.
"I... found myself questioning. With each day, it seemed - that there was yet another petty war started for petty reasons, instigated by petty people. Death - senseless death. Without any real... purpose to it. What does it matter - to die in the name of an empire that has no more importance, no practical difference than any of the rest?"

The Primarch found herself stopping her fiddling - watching more intently, now. What she spoke were words of purpose - a necessary preliminary question.
Ginette, however, found no cause to stop.
"When I first saw, with abated breath - your violet eyes on Antlia's shore - the way you... moved about. Something of a presence, perhaps, one that accompanied you and all of your kind. A certain.. cool sensation, perhaps, you've heard others of my country say as such."

She gave a light pause, before continuing, as if to give emphasis to the point.
"At the time I... couldn't quite understand it. I was drawn unto it, drawn... perhaps, not to fully understand it - but I did feel something within that freezing embrace. It was... conviction."

She spoke more confidently, now.
"Conviction - confidence in that which you believe. More than can be said for my countrymen. But it wasn't just that - for each ounce of conviction given to some... lesser cause is an ounce misplaced. I found myself, with each passing moment - growing to a certain realization. That you had conviction, yes - but it was for some greater purpose than I could then understand. I was drawn to it, then. I came to help - whenever your soldiers came to ask for help with a certain word, or when some order demanded translation - I found myself doing it. Helping. Collaborating. It was then that I was noticed..."

And as she tilted her head a little - she seemingly forgot about the bound prisoner sitting just a few meters away.
"I noticed, more than anything, as I learned - that our invaders were not just given conviction. That not only did you sweep over us like a storm - not only did you do so proudly - but I noticed, with a creeping realization - that you were, from the onset of my being and the onset of yours - that you were superior. It was a simple realization, one not shared by my peers - but what other explanation could possibly exist? That we were morally weak, and that you were not - that you were powerful, and we were not? I came to realize something after that, then."

Her voice wavered, if only for a moment - before once again finding her resolve renewed.

"Collaboration - Collaboration is not quite the right word. It is, a course, a part of what I do now - but I cannot see myself merely as a... collaborator. Any of the prisoners outside are collaborating with this occupation - they work towards your glory in their own way. But no - it does not quite describe what I feel, now. Emulation - that, that is the term I prefer. To see your glory, your superiority - and ultimately, to become it. From the moment you stepped upon our shore - I realized then that you were superior. To become it, in a sense - and ultimately, to share in that strength. To share in a purpose greater than the petty concerns of my time - and ultimately, to become a part of your strength, to further it - and more than that, to spread that conviction. To bring it to fruition. To see the convictions of a nation, of an Empire - to help make it real."

"Why do I serve the Empire? I serve because there is nothing else one can does. Because, there is no greater endeavor than to serve the Empire. That the Empress has a vision for this world, for yours - that this Empire, and this Empire alone - that it serves to rise above the muck. That it, alone, stands a monolithic entity - the unification of all beings under one - the natural order fulfilled. It is perfection. It is grace - it is the Empire."

Ginette finally finished speaking - her final reflection finally finished. Her soliloquy complete - she found herself with a newfound resolve - as if with each word, she found herself believing itself more and more - with each word, any doubt in her conviction erased - her doubts washed away.
Asira finally looked up at her - seeming somewhat gratified by the response. It was more than what another may have given - far more, and far longer, than the malleable justifications of a traitor. It was a hint, certainly, towards the presence of a true believer - a collaborator in the truest sense, and more than that - a spirit alike their own. In a sense - a spiritual kindred-ness. Though she may not be Lirvittian - she was someone who had answered the Empress's call - or so it would seem. There was no other act than to complete one's treason.
"Well spoken."
She gave a pause.
"Madame Faure."

Ginette did find a little piece of herself die - was it not enough? She had spoken her convictions, the deepest rumination of a soul in anguish having found its salvation - and this, ultimately, was what it had come to?
"But words, and what deeds you have done thus far - I must ask only... one... small task. The greatest step has already been taken - you have already seen what you could of the... purpose of the universe. The Empress's design - and the Vicereine's will - and our hands to carry it out. But... I want to exact only one... small effort from you."

She unbuckled a little black leather holster resting on her belt - and with it, she slowly drew a black pistol of polymer and metal, a grip of rubber - she let it rest onto the table.
"It is loaded."
She spoke softly.
Ginette found a nervous sense about her - and she realized soon enough what she had been brought here for.
Asira leaned in once again, her chin tilted up a bit - but her voice was disinterest, manifest.
"That man, kneeling at the back of the room. He attempted to... break free from his shift, early this morning. In effect - someone who... betrayed his new Empress. You know what must happen, of course, to disobedience?"

Ginette found herself immediately struck with horror, her eyes widening - the realization had always been with her, now, but she only now fully let it grip her - what she had been given the task to do.
But horror gave way, soon enough, to some... distinct measure of that conviction returning to her.
"Yes."
She spoke softly - barely more than a whisper.

She knew what had to be done.

With a tentative hand - she plucked the pistol from the desk.

She felt its weight - how it... shifted in her hand, she held it, from side... to side... looking at the slide. She knew how to use it. Nominally, at least.

It was barely her own body that propelled her from her seat - a few steps made, a few steps taken - her feet heavy against the wooden ground, each step made with a certain.. clunk, one that rang heavy through the night. The bound man standing before him shifted, twitched - sometimes jerked in his binds.

The Empress's Servant raised her hand - and the pistol did lock against the man's cloth-wrapped head.

And then, she served the Empress.

And so did he - now - and forevermore.
Last edited by Arakhkhar on Mon Jul 15, 2024 1:27 am, edited 1 time in total.
By the Vicereine's Will.
By the Empress's Design.
Your culture will adapt to service us.

Wherever applicable, factbooks/dispatches take precedence over stats for RP. Rated the absolute most totalitarian nation on this index.

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Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby The Astovia » Thu Jul 18, 2024 3:53 pm

Mathias awoke to the jostling of the truck as the engine stopped, signaling that they had arrived to their destination, shaking off the initial grogginess that had accumulated while he slept. For a moment he imagined what he believed to be a better world, a world where the Luetian Army had not been shattered.

"You good?" The words pierced through his mind like a knife through hot butter, yanking him from his brief trance and reminding him that his brief delusions were just that. "Just lost in thought..." He responded, fixing his eyes upon the gaze of the soldier who has brought him back from his thoughts, though he did not recognize the fellow soldier, the tired gaze in his eyes told him all he needed.

He'd hear the soldier mumble something as he passed, making for the hastily dug trench, he'd sigh as he sat upon a crate reaching into his haversack for an unopened letter he had gotten. He felt lucky, some of fellow soldier hadn't received a single letter during the entire war, whether due to being in positions that got overrun before any mail could be sent out to them.

As he opened and began to read the letter, he let it distract him from whatever anyone around him was saying. It was a letter from his mother's physician, which in of itself did not fill him with confidence as he began to read it. Beyond the occasional drop of rain upon his bare head, he would be left with his thoughts as he read the short letter.

It was another letter warning Mathias of his mother's ailing health, and now he was being told that she was likely not going to be making it to the end of the month. For a moment he signed internally, folding the letter and putting it into his pocket, if nothing else, he had nothing to lose from dying in this humiliating war.




Even in Morel-sur-Mer, the Emperor lets worries take over, seeing the disaster that is the remnants of the Imperial Army and how the Cepvinian Army was encroaching upon the capital with little in the way of a proper LIA resistance. Knowing that he could not remain in the capital should it fall, Moitessier V would begin attempting to gather all his belongings as he prepared to flee the capital. Anything of any semblance of value was gathered, paintings, heirlooms, and outfits of all kinds would all be gathered in put into whatever could be used to carry them safely.

In his haste he'd continue to pace up and down the stairs of the palace, watching as soldiers who had been "borrowed" from stations around the city began moving things to help the evacuation of the Emperor. Every now and then he would almost lose his footing, yet it would quickly be remedied when he'd reach for the rail of the stairs.

As one of the particularly larger paintings was being brought out, the soldiers carrying it would have the Emperor in their way, leading to him having to pace up and down in the middle of the stairs as they moved the painting down. As he turned to pace down the stairs, he'd lose his footing, unable to reach out for the rail he'd fall down the stairs. With nothing to stop him, he'd land on the bottom with a dull crack, some of the soldiers and officials not preoccupied with moving things for the evacuation would try to aid the Emperor who laid on the ground unmoving.

As word spread throughout the Luetians present to witness, a desperate call for emergency medical assistance was given, though attempts were made to resuscitate the Emperor, he would be pronounced dead two hours after he fell. Even if the government wanted to conceal the Emperor's death, with how many witnesses to the event there were, it would be useless to try to conceal it. With the death of the Emperor, it had marked that Luetian victory was forever made out of reach, from however improbable it was already.
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Arakhkhar
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By the Vicereines Will

Postby Arakhkhar » Fri Jul 19, 2024 7:14 pm

by the Vicereine's will...

•Kolano•

•18:01, July 19th, 2024•



The preparations had been made.
Carina had, with the help of Arakhkhari engineers... and its new Intendant Faure, become a new, large base from which the logistics of an invasion could be conducted in consort with the existing base on Antlia. In ever-increasing numbers, Shock Troopers had begun to flood onto the small islands - to the degree that they had become quite crowded. Floating harbors had been moved in to accommodate the increasing numbers of supplies brought in for the effort that was to be the total and utter conquest of a nation. Logistically, they would be ready to launch their invasion quite soon.

But the next effort was to act to destroy the enemy navy and to prepare the landings themselves in a single blow.
For this, a concerted, new effort would have to be made - one to continue the efforts to conduct reconnaissance over Bodroasia - to map each and every naval base, every little military installation - military headquarters. Unfortunately, this place seemed to lack an internet, so such things could not simply be determined by making a search online. Nor could it be determined by spy satellite, as such things had yet to be launched in Kolano.
However, there was a necessity for guided munitions and for the means by which to fire them - as well as long range communications.

So, with the 'assistance' of prisoners of war, a system of Shortwave Radio transmitters were established. Due to the inherent power of Shortwave, these could likely be heard across the entirety of the planet - and, of course, endlessly, it would simply transmit endless lists of numbers. Repeating sequences, non-repeating, with the encryption algorithm changing its specific key sequence on the daily - according to the automated decryption systems embedded within the shortwave receivers aboard Arakhkhari vessels, this could be turned into coherent orders that could be made into action by the will of those who would come to receive it.
It would, however, mean that across the entire planet - the new, extremely powerful, and entirely cryptic Shortwave radio signal had just... appeared.

Furthermore, the creation of an airfield had been effectively rushed - and with it, a new effort was to be conducted.
Revived from an airplane graveyard from the 1970s, a Lirvittian IdB I-90 High-altitude reconnaissance plane was brought to the scene.

Let its terrible jet engines roar - let them begin to whir, to rumble to life, and at the signal of black uniformed soldiers, their vile and virulent eyes of purple obscured by callous glass - let them begin their takeoff. Let them approach, slowly at first, before they begin their screaming onset, and that they might scream endlessly into the winds of the north come upon them. And so they took flight - so did they roar, beginning to climb, higher and higher unto the heavens - rising to an altitude where they could be comfortably out of the range of any enemy anti-aircraft fire, or indeed, any enemy aircraft - as they had no radar. In truth, there was likely very little to worry about from 23,000 meters above the surface - although, if anyone did see it, it would likely spawn any number of UFO conspiracy theories a bit earlier than intended. The truth, of course, was not lost upon the Arakhkhari pilots in their blackened flightsuits and purple visors - that indeed, they were 'alien invaders,' being non-human and from another world to them. Thus, of course, rested the case for the existence of 'alien life' - that they were it.

It was ultimately the course of such missions to determine - where to strike.
Utilizing data gleaned from earlier high-altitude flights, they were able to determine the curvature of the planet - and with it, the approximate circumference and radius of the planet. From there, one could indeed create a system of coordinate positioning that could work with targeting equipment. From there, it would be a simple matter to calculate the approximate ballistic trajectories - reprogramming equipment to work on another world had taken time, but now... the pieces were being set.

A countdown had begun, one that no one but the Primarch Asira or the Vicereine could stop - it was a countdown to the beginning of the operation.
More specifically, it was the beginning of a countdown to would be the subjugation of Bodroasia.
The targets needed to be set - the enemy board become bare before her all-seeing gaze.

The clocks had been set, and they ticked - ticked and tocked to the tune of the marching-boots of Shock Troopers upon foreign soil - with the increasing tons upon tons of ordinance, with the increasing tonnage of every kind of good necessary for an invasion.
The specific plans for what had to be done were drawn - the Rifles needed only now to find their targets - an acquisition process that would take some time, admittedly, but time was something the invasion force had in abundance - and for Bodroasia - time was running out.
Last edited by Arakhkhar on Fri Jul 19, 2024 7:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Wherever applicable, factbooks/dispatches take precedence over stats for RP. Rated the absolute most totalitarian nation on this index.

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The Astovia
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Postby The Astovia » Mon Jul 22, 2024 3:14 pm

With fleet maintenance starting to reach its conclusion, the Bodroasian Navy would begin to prepare for another patrol, with command preparing to map out a route for the fleet to take. Though it would still be some time before the ships were done, there was nothing against preparing rather early for the Bodroasians. Obviously, the Bodroasians would still keep up their watch shifts, even if the Republic had not entered war for some time, they would still have to keep an ear to the ground. Shifts came and went by silently, nothing but the occasional seagull that decided to perch on one of the cables of the ships being reported. It was quiet, and the Bodroasians enjoyed the quietness of peace, something that was soon to be stripped from them.

At sea, the Bodroasian Battlecruiser Vinkenburg was on her last patrol of the month, scheduled for repairs once the rest of the fleet was out of port and space freed up. Beyond a few escorts, the small force was left alone to go about their business, the seas were rather rough for the last few days, hampering the ships as they scanned the seas. The rocking of the ships in the waves was ironically the closest thing that they had been to actually entering combat, the ships were as green as the crews that manned them. Whether that be a blessing or a curse for the Republic is debatable, yet with what is soon to set upon them, it is most certainly a curse.

In Molenduinen, the government would meet for a hearing on the vanishing of ships, attempting to reason why ships has mysteriously vanished from the Republic's waters. Yet with everything that the Republic had, the ships vanishing were completely random, no clear pattern as to the last known locations, no clear pattern as to what ships were targeted. Nothing seemed to make sense on the topic, even if they found a possible reasoning, there was always something to disprove it, after hours of useless arguments and bickering over what caused the vanishings, the hearing would go into recess, allowing for new information to be brought in. A radio signal had been reported, broadcasting nothing but cryptic numbers, though the reports were shrugged off as some technical school in another country testing something. If only they knew.




In Luetia, the frontline shatters further upon word of the Emperor's death, with the Imperial Navy desperately trying to restore cohesion in their land based cousins to limited effect. Despite pushing hard on the Empire, the Cepvinians would be stalled just a pitiful three kilometers away from the capital, with dug in Luetians desperately trying to hold the line for one last stand. The Luetians had used whatever they could gather to stall the Cepvinians, from landmines to hastily made anti-tank barriers, the Luetians had lost too many cities in the most humiliating defeats, they could not, would not, let it happen to their capital as well. If the Cepvinians would want to push any further into the capital, they'd have to push through the last of the Luetian will to fight.

Yet, above the heads of the Luetian Soldiers, a sword of damocles sways, reminding them of the inevitability of the situation that they're in. If the Luetian forces here were defeated, then the war would most certainly end within the week, government officials not having enough time to evacuate with their distraction of the death of the Emperor. Yet, in the attempt to divert the Cepvinians, a final counter-attack in the north is prepared, with the Luetian Forces hoping to divert attention from the southern advance for just long enough to force the Cepvinians to handle the attack. For some, it would be better to die with the dignity of knowing that they gave a fighting chance for forces south than live in humiliation from their surrender.
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Contact

Postby Arakhkhar » Mon Jul 22, 2024 8:45 pm

Contact

•Patrol-Route U-44, off the Bodroasian Coast•

•16:24, July 22nd, 2024•



With the sudden launching of reconaissance flights over Bodroasia - and with it, regular patrols had begun to take place - skirting closer and closer to the Bodroasian coast each time - however, it was at this time that a long range search radar operating on the L band was able to identify a substantial force outside Bodroasian territory - one that was not their own in nature. With considerations having been made for the operational security of what was to take place - there had to be, in short order, no active maritime threat to the security of the operation.

A strike would have to be done - and so it was that on the morning of July 22nd, units from the 2nd Sovaliimoryanistivir Flot would be detached from the main force at Carina to deal with the threat - and there was little effort spared.
It would be five vessels - enough to match the detected five Bodroasian vessels - but the gap in capability was... immense.
For the Arakhkhari Task Force U-44 consisted of one VgN.4/99 Battlecruiser - three "Shadow Song" Destroyers, and a single "Ruminant Wanderer" Class Attack Submarine - that they would go on to an intercept course, and eventually, to come to about sixty kilometers from the task force - this, of course, to allow for a maximum chance that each and every missile fired is not wasted. However - the submarine itself would begin to creep to around 14 kilometers from the task force - well out of range of any existing active sonar, as they believed that the Bodroasians lacked any precedent for Sonars with a range beyond 5 kilometers - and at such a distance, their hydrophones shouldn't be able to pick up the silent hunter - but it was close enough for the VK-9 torpedoes of the submarine to be able to engage.

With the fleet moving into position - it would slowly move up, closer and closer... and with each kilometer closer, anticipation built aboard the ANS Deliberate Reproach - lead ship of Task-Force U-44, and one of the three VgN.4/99 battlecruisers that had been assigned to the invasion of Kolano. For once - and for the first time in its career, it would see naval action.
It was the ultimate course of the new naval endeavor to engage - and for the ANS Vampirr - the first Arakhkhari submarine to have sunk a ship in this world which they had found to be called "Kolano" - it was to form the vanguard of this new, terrible endeavor.
It had been too long since Commander Isina had an enemy in the sights of her periscope - but by far, she felt it wasn't the last. With the submarine slowly closing in... she needed only fire. But, of course, it was a matter that had to be timed to have the proper effect.

From the great black hull that stretched upon that blue sea - ShV-260 Anti-Ship Missiles were loaded in their canisters - each with a 500 kilogram warhead. Black planes, like the vulture that feeds upon the flesh of the new corpse - they screamed already over the horizon, making way for their inevitable feast. And so - the clock ticked. It clicked faster and faster as the moment drew nearer and nearer. The clocks were synchronized - 7,000 clocks at once, ticking as one.
Seconds - minutes - and before anyone could quite realize - the clock struck and found its home.

"Fire."
Fire was the word - across five vessels, across fourteen aDB-24N naval aircraft - from each of the three destroyers, five ShV-260s - from the battlecruiser, with its looming guns - 8 ShV-260s, each aimed at the opposing battlecruiser - from the Ruminant Wanderer, from four torpedo tubes at once each fired in a slight stagger, four VK-9 torpedoes were let loose - screaming towards the Bodroasian task force.
The red glare of rockets could be seen across the horizon - each roaring to life - and soon enough, the aDB-24Ns reached their allocated firing distance - 70 kilometers from the enemy force - each letting loose their own two ShV-260s - what was to follow was an annihilation - to ensure that they would be dealt with as swiftly as possible.
By the Vicereine's Will.
By the Empress's Design.
Your culture will adapt to service us.

Wherever applicable, factbooks/dispatches take precedence over stats for RP. Rated the absolute most totalitarian nation on this index.

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The Astovia
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Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby The Astovia » Fri Jul 26, 2024 4:51 pm

At sea the Bodroasian ships would stand no chance against the missiles and torpedoes from the Arakhkhar ships, far out of range for their guns to even hope to be able to reach. Unable to even know who had struck them in such a fatal way, the strike was like a knife to the jugular. With silence being broken between the ships as they spotted the unknown projectiles, in their futility, they'd try to use what they had to defend themselves, using anti-air to try to shoot down what they could not understand, to a result that was nothing short of a failure. Each slam of the missile into the decks of the ships sent metal twisting into heaps, though the battlecruiser was the clear main target, the other ships would be spared.

It took only a hour for the Bodroasian ships to be completely destroyed, whatever remained being scattered survivors, random things that had managed to float, and the occasional lifeboat. It was nothing less than total victory for Arakhkhar, nothing less than the absolute annihilation of ships that had no hope to fight against them in the first place, being horrendously outdated when compared to what they operated. Soon enough, Bodroasia would itself meet the fate that their ships had met, and Arakhkhar would gain their first true foothold on this world. Yet, that remains as an event yet to come, a small hurdle still a ways out that will be mounted when the time comes. For now, the victor is left to look through the ruins for whatever ruins may be of some use to them.




Despite the best efforts from what remains of the Luetian Army, the Cepvinians would begin to slowly whittle away whatever remained of the defenders. Eventually, after hours of fighting against the dug in Luetian forces, Cepvinian Armor would break through and pave a way for infantry to follow as the Luetians withdrew to take positions in Morel-sur-Mer. Though with the Cepvinians beginning to enter the city, whatever defenses were manned would mean little once the Cepvinian Armor managed to move in, with no sight of the last of the Luetians Armored Units, the Cepvinian Armor would be left unchallenged as they began to take the city.

As the Cepvinians fought over whatever could be called key sites within the capital, they found themselves against a weakened force, like that of a sickly horse too weak to stand. It didn't matter where the Luetians tried to set up, from ruined bookstores to bombed out theatres, they'd find themselves pushed out. With losses mounting upon the Luetians in Morel-sur-Mer, some would attempt to retreat east, to take up positions in the last corners of the city or to break out and withdraw from the city altogether. Though some pockets would remain as night fell, it was clear as to who had won the battle over Morel-sur-Mer, and by extension, what remained of Luetia.

At sea, the Cepvinian Navy would begin to move a force far into Luetian Waters, aiming to destroy whatever remains of the Luetian fleet in port. As the force encroached upon the fleet, carrier aircraft would be prepared to handle the first strike of the Cepvinian Navy, with whatever remained of Luetia's Aircraft likely on flights to counter the Cepvinians in the West, the Cepvinians would not expect nor consider the risk of the negligible remnants of Luetia's Aircraft Field Divisions. If any did show up, they'd probably run out of fuel long before managing to destroy an aircraft of the Greater Republic.

Amongst what remained of the Luetian Government, they'd begin preparing to surrender, there was no more reason to continue the war, the Emperor had died, the Army was a shattered mess that could no longer hope to counter the Cepvinians in any way. If they continued to fight, it would mean nothing but to continue to throw away lives for a cause that was no longer worth fighting for in any way. Though there would of course be isolated groups that would continue to fight on, it would be no shock that the surrender of what remained of the government would signal sweeping surrenders amongst the ranks of the Army and Navy.
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..By the Empress's Design

Postby Arakhkhar » Sun Jul 28, 2024 9:32 pm

[ S T R A T I T K O M - O D]



Image



...By the Empress's Design

•Patrol Route U-44, off the Bodroasian Coast•

•18:42, July 22nd, 2024•



The annihilation of the task force at range was executed... perfectly. In moments, they had watched as each little signature - each little beeping mark blinked out - one by one, each with a little sharp electronic whine - even as metal twisted, as fires and flames roared from the ammunition stockpiles of antiquated warships - as men were engulfed in flames, or trapped underwater - banging against the sinking wrecks of their sealed bulkheads as they tried desperately to escape from the rising water - that blackened water, illuminated sometimes by flashing red lights - if the emergency lights could even function by that point. Otherwise, men bobbed about on shreds of scraps of boats - or, the lucky, who managed to find a proper lifeboat to save themselves.

Soon enough - those few who survived had found that they were, indeed, the unlucky ones - for they would soon begin to see the blackened monoliths of the ships on the horizon.
[b]So many little boats bobbing up and down. Time for the harvest.
The black hulls drifted over the water - from them, violet eyes aglow stared down at the survivors - helicopters flew above, watching each and every survivor - as the effort would not be conducted to proceed with the harvesting - or simple... capture of these Bodroasians.


•Off the Bodroasian Coast•

•07:23, July 26th, 2024•



The naval front secured - the efforts of logistics prepared - and now, reconnaissance completed - the efforts had all been set in place. The pieces aligned perfectly upon a board that few could truly see in all its scope - the scope of millions of lives, decided in mere moments by the little decisions of callous hands which twist and shift upon that little board.

King’s Pawn forward - let a thousand die. A simple statistic.
Knight to G3. A Shock Armored Division is loaded onto their ships - armored vehicles, arrayed in neat lines and columns - standing by, Shock Troopers, each prepared for the fight ahead of them.

All of the preparation thus far had come to this - the complete and utter subjugation of a nation in a short period of time was to be enacted - to let the Queen move out from her space - and to rest on H5.
Queen H5 - the rejuvenated naval force had begun to assemble - arrayed in a large formation, the VgN.4/99s in the center - with two fleet carriers beside them, and a ring of destroyers and submarines around it - the transports that rose high above the water, each packed full of soldiers who anticipated eagerly their arrival into this foreign land - the onset of the invasion was to occur within the day - and in each, there was a mix of nervous anticipation and of genuine will to serve the Empress - to let her grace touch upon another land; and to forcibly bring it into the Empire’s fold.

And so it was that on that day - the fleet had begun and finished its assembly - crews prepared their aDB-24N aircraft - bombers prepared to take flight, as munitions - mostly guided High explosive gliding bombs controlled via datalink - were loaded under their wings. Knowing the enemy not to have any reliable system of radar detection - the aDB-24s even used their external hardpoints to mount more ordinance than they usually would - stealth was not a priority in this invasion. The only priority was to assemble the hardest possible punch for the least arduous cost - and thus far, they had a window - this was the time in which Arakhkhari strength had prepared something of a surge - and if they maintained their current level of troops, they would soon run into logistical troubles. The invasion was to be launched.

And so it was - that on the 8th hour of that day - with the skies above still filled with the reds and oranges and purples of the break of dawn, that crossed the sky in streaks of assorted colors like an oil painting of the artifice of Van Gogh - the black hulls of warships, aberrations upon the the deep blue water which reflected the sky gently. These were warships that had never been meant to sail upon Kolano’s waters - to sail upon an ocean on a different world, and yet, to feel it almost as if it were their own. Soon enough, it would be their own world.

And the submarines - they crept in the darkness - beginning their search with their sonars, to find and eliminate any Bodroasian submarine which might threaten the armada. Ruminant Wanderer-class submarines, of course, keeping relatively close - while the diesel-electric DRAK-IIs sallied forth underneath the waves for any sign of the enemy’s most pertinent threat. The DRAK-IIs, which were positioned somewhat close to the fleet - were also instructed to begin launching their V-24N loitering munitions - with the idea that they would slam into any Bodroasian warship that would dare to venture out - and others would be directed towards energy infrastructure - such as any power plants, transformer stations, and such.

However - the beginning of the war in earnest was to be marked by the onset of aircraft - an aerial campaign with the aim of decapitation, and then, to sever the limbs. With the first true 'battle' of the war having already taken place on the sea - there was little else to do except to begin the air war. Already, targets had been marked - airfields, anti-aircraft positions,anything that looked like a radio tower, communications junctions, telegraph lines - command centers - naturally, this would be something of a rolling air offensive - beginning with the coastal cities of Boksum and Bloemendalburg, before moving deeper into the country with the natural onset of their roaring engines - they bore with them the utter limits of their weapons capacity - thousands of kilograms of bombs, rockets, and their existing autocannons - they would intend to strafe Bodroasian aircraft on the ground utilizing autocannons - and with the efforts of reconnaissance having been completed, the first onset of roaring engines would begin to explode through the morning sky - from the fog, so did massive ballistic missiles rise from the cruisers - from SN-10 vertical launch cells, so did ballistic missiles rise high into the sky - their sound that of a thousand bolts of lighting each millisecond, a great cacophonous rumbling as the storm emerged - their designated targets being the command centers, the communication centers, the centers of government - the military bases - each loaded with massive conventional warheads capable of putting a rather ignominious end to that which would be unfortunate enough to be caught by it. Curiously, however - this strike carefully avoided damaging the Bodroasian navy while in-port - instead focusing at command installations. The reasoning behind this was that any ship that could seriously threaten the invasion force could simply be hit by AShMs.

This was the alpha strike - it was the beginning of the onslaught - and with the fleet now coming closer, closer until they could reach within 50 kilometers of the shoreline - they would also begin to slam any coastal defenses, utilizing the VgN.4/99's 12" guns equipped with subcaliber munitions to strike well beyond the usual range of Arakhkhari naval weaponry. More than that - helicopters would begin to take to the skies, loaded with the first wave of Shock infantry - each packed tightly into those tight compartments, watching the fleet behind them as they slowly approached their targets - the ships steaming ahead at full flank, as nuclear reactors heated and cooled and regulated in those behemoths - as some of the most powerful radars in the world were beginning to track for any targets, on the surface or in the air. Helicopter-borne shock units would roar towards the naval bases - those that had been identified beforehand, as well as the various sites which had been identified as ideal landing sites along the coastline - everything had been timed - so that they would follow just minutes after the conclusion of the first round of airstrikes over the landing sites.

These were to be followed up by the first Amphibious Shock Division - the goal of the initial wave of helicopter-borne landings would be to secure the landing sites ahead of time, or to those areas around it. Each was a gunship - equipped with their own 30mm autocannon mounted in the nose, as well as a set of rocket pods - each with no less than 48 unguided rockets in each pod, mounted on each 'wing.' The amphibious division was intended to mop the resistance - and to prepare for the arrival of the much larger armored formations that would be quickly rushed in after there arrival. These landing sites were concentrated around Boksum - with separate landings to be conducted to its north, south, and another 10 kilometers from the city itself - from which point, close air-support missions would be conducted by aDB-26 aircraft. Meanwhile, carrier-borne AWACS aircraft monitored the whole situation - their black wings adorned with the roundels of the Arakhkhari Cobernkisolkrieli - monitoring closely for any enemy fleet movements, while the AShMs were prepared in case of any genuine attempt at a counterattack. The hope, however, was that the majority of Bodroasian fighters and bombers could simply be strafed or bombed before they would have any chance to take off.

From her flagship - the Primarch Asira watched as fighters and ships, as missiles roared across the sky - sitting at her bridge, she watched it all - she stared out at the Bodroasian coastline from atop the Eminent Rise - that looming mass of land in the distance that seemed to call out and beckon to her. Today - today was the day she would earn her rank. Upon that bridge - there was little suspension in the moment - only the passive moments of some celebration.

Operatsion Spectral Conclusion had begun in earnest, now - and now, there was much to do - the invasion had to be coordinated closely. Close air-support had to follow the amphibious units closely as they secured their landing - and the Shock Armored Divisions would have to follow almost immediately after, with floating harbors moved in. A storm would have to be achieved - one to seize and paralyze as much of the country as possible before what remained of the Bodroasian military could form a coherent resistance.

And Asira - Asira did smile. Death - she bore with her untold devastation. She bore with her the fruits of Absolutvvak - or, Total War.

By the Vicereine's Will.

By the Empress's Design - and now, for the Primarch's Glory.

The invasion had begun.
Last edited by Arakhkhar on Sun Jul 28, 2024 9:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby The Astovia » Wed Jul 31, 2024 6:53 pm

In Luetia, the flames of war have sputtered and died, with the Cepvinian Army having managed to smash through what little remained of the Luetian Army at Morel-sur-Mer, and Cepvinian forces would begin to consolidate the capture of the capital of Luetia. With no remaining hope of victory, the remaining Luetian Government would agree to meet with Cepvinian Military command in the region, intending to discuss bringing an end to the war and present their official surrender. As the war enters the final days, possibly even hours, elements of the Luetian Army would surrender in droves, others scattering, and others awaiting the official surrender of the government before making their own considerations.

Though surrender is now a plan, the Cepvinians would not yet seek to cease their offensives, with offensives north of Morel-sur-Mer pushing to secure strategic ground that could prove valuable should discussions break down and by extension continuing the war. While at sea, the Cepvinian strike group would push as they began their strike on the Luetian fleet in port, aiming to destroy as much as possible before any attempt to break out and flee can be made. Of course, the Cepvinians aimed to utilize their aircraft to their maximum potential, trying to disable main batteries of the ships, taking out fuel reserves, and generally striking anything of importance to the Luetian Navy.

As the main fleet prepared to begin their bombardment of the devastated ships in port, it would ironically mirror that occurring to the Southeast, though against an enemy that was not of the world, an enemy that was like a parasite, slowly festering and entrenching itself more and more upon this world...




… and so they attacked, with the Bodroasian fleet, the army, and by extension, the entire country caught off guard by the sudden, swift, and unknown creation of a threat. As the landings began, Bodroasian Forces previously stationed as port security, or even sailors themselves left with nothing but to take up arms in the confusion. With little in the way to crew the larger ships, and even if they had the crew organized, it would take too long to bring them up to readiness, the only ships that could be mustered would be a handful of destroyers, with some of the Cruisers managing to muster up a enough crewmen to run the main and anti-air to try to buy enough time for whatever hectic plan could be organized without a proper unifying command.

Whatever destroyers could make it to sea were immediately caught - for they would have run into the radar-range of three VgN.4/99 cruisers - and, using radar-directed fire control - one could fire artillery at ranges impossible for the contemporaries. This, of course, was a much cheaper solution compared to firing AShMs - to fire a mix of 225mm and 12” shells at 20 kilometers.The Bodroasian ships, inferior in most, if not all ways would be easy prey for the VgN.4/99s, being decimated long before they could become something close to a genuine threat. Destroyed ignominiously, set to become food for the fish and home for an artificial ecosystem in time to come.

Yet, with the confusion of both civilians caught in the crossfire, and the unorganized nature of whatever defenders that were mustered, any response to the landing forces was fragile and lacking anything beyond a short sighted hope to repel the landings with whatever they had. With the nature of Arakhkhari doctrine, many of these positions would be quickly overrun, with more troublesome elements finding themselves cut off and annihilated upon when the realization sets in. With no way to alert forces further inland of the invasion they were experiencing, a Bodroasian Response would certainly be hectic and muddled in confusion, though given the active bombing campaign, and where the aircraft were coming from, it would be more than evident that the invaders were likely coming from the sea. With the unknown forces bringing out larger armor that the Bodroasian AT rifles had no hope of penetrating, the forces who tried to defend the ports cracked under the ever mounting pressure further.


Of course, the government, or rather whoever wasn’t caught in the bombing campaign, would find themselves no different than the civilians caught in the confusion, most following their countrymen in the panicked evacuations or hastily made bomb shelters. With whatever word got out over radio stations and telegram wire that hadn’t yet been destroyed, there was nothing but pure confusion, with the Bodroasian Military trying to desperately figure out what was going on as they faced the unknown threat. No amount of training, preparation, or being a veteran of wars long past could prepare the Bodroasian Military for what they were up against, though, it was the duty of the Republic’s Army to defend the country, and thus, they would be ordered and expected to defend the Republic’s Sovereignty, even if no high commander managed to order them.


Through the ruined streets, the sound of gunfire echoing in the distance - a squad of Shock Troopers moved up - the callous female voice of Tsentralkommant echoing in their headsets.
“Report - Acclimate - Liquidate Unpersons 721-81. Unit 98-7 to Tertiary objective position. Unit 72-3, move to support position…”
Their voices were electronically distorted - the sounds of their vocoders echoing through the forlorn morning, with the distant rumbling of bombings taking increasing precedence.
Through this - they began to search through the ruins of a cafe - evidently, there was a battle here - a number of people lay dead - as they began to sift, through it, glass crunching and crackling under their feet - their heavy, armored steps reverberating through the ravaged place - they began to take stock of the dead.
One of the Troopers, her eyes aglow - pointed with her rifle to one of the bodies.
“Human. Military.”
They appraised the dead - taking stock of them, their species - their electronic voices filling the building.
“Felind. Military.”
But as they sifted through the rubble and the ruin - something curious had caught their purple eyes - and their ears. A rough, heavy breathing could be heard - one not one of their own… and a feather had graced the ground, falling gently from the air.
With a moment - the Subordinal turned her head - and with a few more heavy steps, she came upon the source… a… strange creature - humanoid in form, but with… feathers, as opposed to any usual adornments. It was clear that this was neither felind nor human - but something else entirely. It was bleeding heavily - dragging itself across the ground, and… attempting to reach its pistol.
The Subordinal felt her disgust for the creature - and so called out into her radio.
“Unknown species. Military. Alive.”
She reported to her Ordinal - and soon enough, an order circled back to them from Tsentralkommant.
“Liquidate it.”
Without hesitation - the Subordinal lifted her heavy boot - and swiftly put an end to the thing’s existence.

To the North - south - and center of the city - much heavier landings would soon take place, as vast black ships hurtled towards the shore itself - letting loose the first wave of genuine armored forces - the 1st Guards Shock Division, as well as the 10th - which was fresh from its combat in Sylvaria, and eager for new lands to conquer. There - the ramps of those massive ships fell down with ‘clunks’ unto the ground - letting the roar of engines fill the air, as A-70I Main Battle Tanks and AIV-31I infantry fighting vehicles rumbled out onto the sand and onto the plains. With advance areas taken - their immediate priority would be to storm around the city - to achieve breakthroughs in any immediate point of defense, and then to let Shock Troopers mop up whatever remained in the pockets created - they would aim to strike deep into enemy territory, making a bold advance - with attempts made to hit communications and supply lines.

Whatever supply lines and communication centers that still existed would swiftly fall, the defenders caught off guard and seemingly bewildered at the rapid pace of the attacks, with some Bodroasian forces trying to consolidate defenses in places that are somewhat defendable. Some elements would try to hold out, though for the most part with how fast the Bodroasians were defeated, the Arakhkhar strikes were sudden, brutal, and successful. Beyond small forces with limited cohesion, inter-unit cohesion is low, with communication centers destroyed or disabled, the Bodroasian Army would be crippled.


There was nothing to be unexpected from the strikes on Bodroasia from the air, the Bodroasian Army had little to nothing that they could do to fight against the aircraft strafing their Republic. Amongst the few aircraft that could be scrambled without being destroyed on their runways, they were simply far too slow to actually be a threat to the aircraft of the unknown force, and easily shredded by their counterpart’s aircraft. With solid damage done to Bodroasian Infrastructure, it would be yet another victory over the Republic. The rope hangs, the Republic brought out.
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Arakhkhar
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Storm War

Postby Arakhkhar » Thu Aug 01, 2024 6:32 pm

Tekipesvvak

•The Frontlines of Bodroasia•

•July 22nd, 2024•



The first day of operations continued on - and it seemed, with each moment, that it was working like clockwork. With the initial beachhead secure - Shock Troopers would practically flood through onto the shore, with the remainder of forces now being committed - with a single division left to garrison Carina and Antlia.

It was the first endeavor into a kind of war that was new for this world - in the Arakhkhari language - Tekipesvvak - Storm War. Concentrated armored units, as opposed to dispersed infantry support - with an emphasis on speed - and to penetrate the enemy's operational depth. In effect, to deny them any sort of reprieve. This was committed, first, through the breaking of an enemy's frontline - and then, these units would move to contain the enemy and annihilate them - while fresh, uncommitted mobile units would follow up to exploit the gaps in the lines - striking at the enemy communications and supply lines, and especially with storming through enemy infrastructure. Speed was critical to these sorts of Shock tactics - but in truth, there was very little that could slow them down at this point. Within the day - air supremacy was achieved - and constant close-air support missions, split between aDB-24 and aDB-26 aircraft, as well as helicopter air-cavalry which rapidly moved forth to seize critical locations ahead of armored units. Indeed - this was a war that embodied a storm - from the sea, from the air, from the ground - to deny reprieve and any sort of preparation for the enemy.

It was such that across the entire front - a force of roughly 183,000 personnel had been landed in an increasingly widening frontline - if one could even call it a frontline. It was no static war, where there were concentrated frontlines, lines upon a map which could be accounted for - it was carnage - as flying columns of tanks, supported with mechanized infantry, helicopters, and close-air-support struck deep around the countryside with impunity - aiming to perform broad encirclements, which would be then forced to surrender - or promptly annihilated.
The port itself, however, yielded with it a variety of prizes - and no effort could be spared in its capture.

And so it was, that on the forth hour from the beginning of the invasion - an order rang out to the units of the 1st Guards Shock Division - specifically, a combined-arms brigade, was to move in with the goal of seizing the port - with the rest of the division now given a mandate - to capture the port by the end of the next day, with the intent being on securing the cruisers and capital ships that had been stationed there - their continued existence would effectively heavily decrease the number of forces that would have to be stationed in Kolano to maintain a Bodroasian Navy - a force that could effectively protect and counteract local threats. So it was - that black armor now stormed down the streets, making a straight line for the city's port and naval base.
Due to their naval supremacy - the advance could be supported through the great 12" and 225mm guns from the VgN.4/99 Cruisers offshore - allowing for a maximum concentration of firepower - the aim of which was to destroy barricades, hardpoints, potential routes for enemy reinforcement, anti-aircraft positions - and larger concentrations of enemy forces. This did, however, avoid damaging the infrastructure of the port itself - which had to be captured. To this end - they would begin to see the deployment of Arakhkhari Psychochemical Weapons, for the first time as intended. Self-propelled guns and specialized PWV-53 vehicles would work to employ the chemical agent BZ - a powerful hallucinogen, against both the civilian population and against military targets.

Other forces - two combined arms divisions would drive straight on to Molenduin, with the 6th Shock Armored Division swinging south to cut off roads to Bloemendalburg and Grasduinburg, while the 10th "Vicereine's Will" Guards Shock Division would swing north - to cut off its northern roads to Molendrechstraat - the intent would be to create a virtual encirclement of the city, and to paralyze any attempts to reinforce the coast - it would also create a massive encirclement of any forces still along the coast - in which smaller encirclements could take place, as these vanguard units were to be followed up by the 12th and 15th divisions, to perform smaller actions, respectively - the first being the encirclement of Boksum, and the second being to encircle Bloemendalburg. Two divisions, the 4th Shock Armored Division and the 5th Guards Shock Armored Division would be sent northeast - to hit the city of Echten, to link up with the 10th and to menace the flank of any forces attempting to reinforce the capital from the Molenschot-Oostwoud axis - although, in truth, with the expected pace of the advance - they might very well be forced to rapidly launch an offensive straight east from there.

These operations, of course, would hinge on the complete capture of Boksum - which was an effort that would be heavily committed to, with the bulk of attack helicopters and close-air-support aircraft, as well as their naval assets being concentrated here - with fresh reserves ready to deploy as necessary for this crucial effort - it would be vital to secure ports for the continued flow of supplies into the invasion force. In order to prevent a bottleneck forming, they also moved in with floating harbors deployed in whatever positions were available - thus allowing for the continued flow of supplies into the broadening frontlines, to the fuel-hungry mechanized divisions.

There was, however, the civilian aspect of the war could not be denied.
For many - it was the sight of an enemy they had never seen before - weapons of war that had never existed in the history of their planet - with eyes of purple that shone bright through dehumanizing gas masks, with black armor that seemed to defy any convention of traditional camouflage - that seemed to resist bullets - that spoke a language that hadn't been heard before by any among them, bearing flags of purple, silvered double-headed-eagles aplenty among division standards. While there were casualties, in the course of any invasion - these... seemed mirrored by the horrifying losses they were inflicting upon the Bodroasian army - where in engagement after engagement, they seemed behind the lines, in front of them - and on the flanks, before they could even react. Conquering Shock Troopers - whenever they desired - could simply pick out a man of their choosing - kill his wife, and simply engage in whatever... she pleased with the unfortunate soul - with such acts usually being committed by forces which had remained behind the main vanguard - the limited occupation units, which served to create operational depth in their own position to prevent being outflanked.

It was becoming increasingly known that there was a third species in Bodroasia - the Avis. And something of a... mandate followed.
They were an unaccounted-for variable - and until such variables could be accurately gauged - they had to be eliminated from the equation. Shock Troopers were instructed to treat all Avis as enemy combatants - as well as being given orders to limit felind casualties.

This total war - a war of conquest, indeed - but now it seemingly had a new goal.
Liquidation.
Last edited by Arakhkhar on Thu Aug 01, 2024 6:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.
By the Vicereine's Will.
By the Empress's Design.
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Wherever applicable, factbooks/dispatches take precedence over stats for RP. Rated the absolute most totalitarian nation on this index.

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The Astovia
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Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby The Astovia » Tue Aug 06, 2024 2:47 pm

In the West, the Cepvinian Army took the surrender of Luetia with no celebration, but rather quietly began to disarm remnants of the Luetian Army that followed the surrender. Of course some would fight on, disorganized groups of soldiers turned into guerillas and civilians who refused to see the country under occupation. For the most part, the Cepvinian Army would reorganize the units within Luetia, ensuring that forces were stationed within major cities as work went underway to pave for a government that was friendly to the Republic to be created. With the death of the Emperor not long before the end of the war, the Cepvinians were left with no unified opposition to the foundations of the Luetian Republic. Though the silence from the Carina Islands was considered something worth investigating, the Cepvinian Military believed it likely to have been occupied by the Astovians in order to provide a buffer zone.

Despite the end of the war, the blood of the Luetian Navy was still fresh, with the Cepvinian Navy destroying practically anything left in port, not even the strongest of ships would be left with mercy, the LINS Cher Ami, flagship of the Luetian Navy was now left a listing wreck, half sunken into mud. Even if some surviving ships made a run for it, the Cepvinians had ensured that the larger ships of the Navy would not be granted the chance to run. Satisfied with the effectiveness of the strike, the Cepvinian Navy would withdraw, to return to port. For the Navy, the war was now over, soon enough they would be called up again, but for now, they would be left to their own devices.




Though the Olvanians believed the fall of Luetia would soon mean the fall of Astovia, the Cepvinians would indeed abandon their former allies, not bothering to handle them. Indeed, the Olvanians were abandoned, left to their fate as Astovian forces continued to break through their forces, with Astovian Forces managing to capture significant ground, the Olvanians are left with the humiliation of betrayal. Though orders from Royal Army Command ordered forces to avoid capturing the capital until Astovian Forces could manage to push through the countryside and the rest of the cities of the upstart Communists. They would have to be shown that the breakthrough was not just some fluke, to prove to the Olvanians that they would have never stood a chance against the Royal Army.

At sea, the Royal Navy would continue patrols in the event that the Cepvinians decided to launch a strike against the Astovians, however unlikely given their lack of land operations against the Royal Army. Seeing no further reason to keep the Orbán Kristóf at sea, the ship would be ordered to return to port, when it would arrive of course, it would mark the end of Orsós Viktória's short stint as a Commodore, with the Royal Navy scrounging up another officer to replace them. Of course, the Royal Navy Command could offer her a different junior position onboard a different ship, though they doubted that she would seek to continue to serve within the Royal Navy.

Nonetheless, even if they did not expect to see any combat, the crew of the Orbán Kristóf would continue to remain alert, remaining prepared to fight an enemy that likely did not exist. It was better to remain prepared for even the most unlikely situation than to find yourself in this situation without anything prepared or on standby. Every now and then, the crew documented or recorded the strange broadcasts, with their nonstop nature the question of what they meant became something that would have to be investigated. Perhaps some reason and cause for the existence of this broadcast would be found, even if it seemed far beyond the skills of the crew of the Battleship.




The so called Storm War went according to plan, the Bodroasian Army was scattered with the wind, though there were some attempts to organize a counterattack against the unknown forces. With the President of Bodroasia trying to organize whatever he could of the Army, gathering a few straggler units together. Nonetheless it would be loosely organized, desperately trying to get communication with friendly forces again. Maybe if the Bodroasians could get some cohesion within their ranks, they might just have a chance to repel the unknown forces back into the sea where they came from. The future of the Republic lay on their shoulders, and they could not fail in a time of such need.

Yet with every attempt to reorganize their forces, it seemed that they would be hit back further by the unknown opposition. The use of chemical weapons against the Bodroasians seemed to have solid effectiveness, though with the primary “gas mask” the Bodroasians used, the XV-Chemical Hood, it at least gave a chance for the Bodroasians to fight in the conditions chemical weapons brought with them.

Even when the little armor that Bodroasia had went up against the equipment of the unknown invader, it seemed almost unable to have any actual effect on them beyond simply giving away the location of who was shooting at them faster than if they didn’t engage. Beyond their machinegun tanks and occasional model armed with a low velocity cannon, there was little in the way of actual armor in use with the Bodroasian Army. With most defenses being static AT guns that had the slimmest chance at disabling the IFVs utilized by the unknown forces.

Though the unknown forces were gaining ground, it seemed that at least to a very small degree, cohesion was slowly returning to the defending forces, trying to organize a proper counterattack to them as the Storm War continued to go on. Of course, the cohesion was extremely limited, but it could present a threat should they let the conflict drag on any longer than needed. A conflict that if they played their cards right, would remain completely unknown and remain silent to the outside world, far away from the prying eyes of the societies of this world.
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Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Arakhkhar » Tue Aug 06, 2024 11:40 pm

Paralyzing Action

•Bodroasia•

•July 23rd, 2024•



The first day of fighting had concluded - and with it, a great number of the Bodroasian fleet had been captured in it's port... including it's vaunted battleship and capital ship fleet. This, of course, was something of an arduous task - moreso than at any other point in the war thus far - with especially stiff resistance going into the attack from particularly determined defenders. However - the Bodroasians had made a critical error, in that they did not attempt to scuttle the ships. These ships were now prizes of the Imperial Principality - and soon enough, they could begin to turn them into the defenders of Bodroasia to augment their forces in Kolano significantly.

The complete conquest of the port itself was complete by the end of the day - with the process of mopping up the surrounding city now taking place. With this, crucial effort complete - the effort in Bodroasia could now be focused on the complete annihilation of the Bodroasian military. One may note that... actions thus far have been to seize territory - but now, the Imperial Principality's armed forces were given a new directive. Rather than simply acquire territory - their goal would be to envelop and destroy Bodroasian forces. In essence, it was to be done to break down the conventional fighting capabilities of the Bodroasian military entirely through a number of decisive, swift, and extremely brutal engagements. The intent, of course, was to annihilate what remained of Bodroasian cohesion - to permanently end its strength, and to force its leaders to sue for peace - either that, or to ultimately end them in a war of annihilation.

The principles of Storm War had dictated such - that all actions should be done to force a final, critical battle, in as short a time as possible - one in which the enemy could be decisively defeated. To this end - the effort to make several encirclements would continue - with cities, for the most part, not being besieged - rather, they would attempt to brutalize enemy forces in the field. The air-war, which had been decisively in their favor from the onset of fighting, would begin to redirect itself towards the continuance of this end. Units that attempted to flee were, simply put, to be hit hard with helicopter gunships and by close-air-support. Alternate routes of escape - infrastructure was to be hit, now.

Communications infrastructure was also once again made the focus of the war effort - while crucial war industries, such as steel mills, arms manufacturing facilities, were tactfully avoided. The best prize was to capture the country whole, rather than to shatter it entirely - such was the methodology that was applied to the conduct of Storm War.
Calls to surrender would be regularly called out - with study having been done beforehand of the Bodroasian language in the buildup to the war itself - and so such was possible, albeit, somewhat accented. However, aside from this small mercy - there was none else given to the Bodroasian military as black vehicles stormed and rampaged across the landscape.

However, for the increasing volume of territory that had been captured - and for the civilians caught in the confusion, there was an immediate, pressing need to establish some kind of civil order to prevent looting from breaking out. These would be formed from rear-guard units - and detached elements from the division that had been previously assigned to keeping order on Carina, roughly 3,000 or so - including the bulk of its heavy armor. This still left a substantial force to garrison the island - but it was becoming clear that they would soon need to bring in forces to act as military police. The time was not yet right for building collaborationist armed forces - but there were already efforts put in place to create concentration camps - not for extermination… not for extermination of humans and felinds, anyways, but simply as places to distribute food, clothing, and medicine to those who had fallen behind in the occupied zones.

To some, it may seem kind - but it was a strategy that was done in Sylvaria, as well. At such places - undesirables could be identified for future liquidation, those willing to collaborate could be identified, and those unwilling marked for close observation in the future. A method of… ethnic filtration and cataloguing. It was as such that Avis who would arrive would not be immediately exterminated. After all, such a thing would not be conducive to establishing a… trustworthy appearance - appearances, of course, being what had mattered.


[ S E K H A Y M - V - K A N O N / S E C R E T - I N - C A N O N ]


However, things had grown to the interest of the ISI.
Particularly, with connection to the Imperial Department of Societal Well-Being, as it related to the ISI. And if one was to pay attention to all of the labyrinthine departments and offices and little committees that had made up a sprawling bureaucracy - one would note the specifics of that office which today holds relevance - the Eugenics Division.

Long had eugenics formed a part of Imperial governance - it was eugenics that had been one of the founding elements of what had produced the Lirvittian species into it’s present state - although at that time, it had been achieved by the Empress’s own mandates - today, it exists through this Division in the Arakhkhari government. To assess the racial health of the Empire - and to engineer that health, was considered as vital a policy of the state as defense.

It was as such that the appearance and incorporation of new species into the Empire had to be accompanied by… study. And so, when more Avis were found during the capture of the port - and the Bodroasian fleet with it - rather than be exterminated, they would be dragged off by ISI Black Operations - to be taken to Antlia.

From deep within cavernous halls that had been so recently dug out - ones which had echoed even the slightest drop of a boot upon it - there would be the sound of screams - screams of anguish and true agony. The process of the filtration of a species - of analyzing one’s racial characteristics - was a long, and arduous one. For the subject, that is. One could never be too thorough.

All in the name of science. After all - what higher pursuit was there, than of science?
By the Vicereine's Will.
By the Empress's Design.
Your culture will adapt to service us.

Wherever applicable, factbooks/dispatches take precedence over stats for RP. Rated the absolute most totalitarian nation on this index.

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The Astovia
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Founded: Sep 18, 2023
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby The Astovia » Sun Aug 11, 2024 10:02 pm

In Olvania, Astovian Forces would manage to capture Blurfeld, turning south to make a push and further squeeze the Olvanians into a smaller perimeter. Royal Army Forces would prepare an airborne operation, seeking to make a landing to assist in breaking Olvanian positions and creating a large enough gap so that the Royal Army could seek to encircle a number of Olvanian Forces from the capital. Utilizing heavy artillery and swift strikes, the Astovian Army would begin to try to make an exploit from the south to Dündelferde, hoping to fracture the ORA before they make a push into Dorbüren. Of course, with Astovian High Command wanting to bring a swift end to the war, orders are given for the Royal Army to push into the capital, hoping to bring an end to the Communist state and return them to the fold of the Kingdom. Especially with concerns of the Cepvinians and their victory over Luetia, even if they weren't eying the Kingdom, there would be no reason not to have precautions.

At sea, the RANS Orbán Kristóf would begin to make the final leg back to port, the short and quiet patrol coming to a conclusion. Whether it be a good thing that the ship had not actually had to see combat or if it was a bad omen for what was to come. Of course, the Astovians had taken minor losses at sea to the Cepvinians, yet by now it seemed that the Cepvinians had broken off, seemingly having considered the war to be over for themselves. Of course, with no reports of communication from the Carina islands, Astovian interest in them begin to pique, and elements of Naval Command would begin looking into deploying a Cruiser Force to investigate the island, though they do consider the fact Cepvinia might be occupying the islands and had brought them to radio silence.

Of course, the reports of the strange radio communications reached far more than just some officers in the Royal Navy. In Karkova, the Bureau of Internal Security would be handed over a significant amount of recorded, trying to determine the origin of the unknown signals and their meaning. Though, with no idea as to how they may be decrypted, the language they're in, or if they even mean anything at all was all up for grabs. Though, within the BIS, they seemed to find themselves most interested in the location of where the signals were coming from. Once the BIS documented the signals and put them in storage, they'd likely give up due to the sole lack of a lead on the language that the broadcast was in. In the end, it seemed that the BIS would have their work cut out for them.




Like a knight with a dull broken sword, the Bodroasian Army continued to take a battering with little that they could do against overwhelming odds. With forces of the Republic taking losses to the unknown forces, surrenders would become more frequent despite attempts to regain cohesion and get a momentum against the invader. While the operations of the Bodroasian Army Command seemed to become far more erratic and desperate as whatever communication equipment that remained began to be destroyed. Beyond sporadic attempts at counter-attacks, and isolated forces trying to regroup, the Bodroasian Army was effectively unable to conduct any proper largescale operations, beginning to dissolve as they tried to cling to what they had left.

With the Bodroasian Army losing equipment and manpower rapidly, there'd be frequent use of local equipment and supplies, with some units being forced to have to scrounge for guns from defeated friendlies. While amongst what remains of armored units still with operational tanks, the Bodroasians would use many of their remaining light tanks for scrap, trying to keep the few that mounted cannons running. Yet, the vast majority of the Bodroasian Armored Forces would be long dismounted, their tanks burning husks after the invaders had picked them apart.

With both civilian and military losses piling up, it'd begin to come clear that many of the Senior Staff of the Bodroasian Army would either intend to surrender, go into hiding, or flee the country. As for the President, despite linking up with a handful of Bodroasian Senior Officers and Forces, he'd once again vanish, leaving the Bodroasian Officers the decision to surrender in their own hands. Of course, some forces would likely not surrender, to engage in partisan warfare even if the President returned to announce a surrender. Though with the Bodroasian Army a fractured mess and the vast majority of the Navy captured, it was clear that there was no feasible way for the Bodroasians to try to turn the tide, and lacking a unifying symbol of the country, morale is crushed further within the Bodroasian Forces..
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Arakhkhar
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Psychotic Dictatorship

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Postby Arakhkhar » Mon Aug 19, 2024 8:46 pm

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•Carina•

•July 24th, 2024•



The signals beeped, and shook - each one a new break into the cacophany of sounds that had filled the growing signal room that had become the sole purpose of what was once the administrative center of a region. It had become the beating heart of an expanding empire on this world, as with each moment - more and more in terms of troops, equipment, and material had begun to filter in through the expanding ports upon it.

A new one - a mark from Astovia, transformed and switched around and made anew - as computers worked tirelessly to sift through patterns, straining themselves as they analyzed elements that would occur - searching for patterns through any number of algorithmic search methods. Results would have to be correlated by the continued usage of long-range L-band radars, as well as two-dimension sea-searching radars - and contacts had been seen, at ranges far longer than any contemporary technology upon this world. Any attempt to approach the island, or Antlia - would be duly noted. The signals had occurred with a growing, worrying frequency - and in order to secure the island, and with the naval battle in Bodroasia already over - two DRAK-II Raiders were detached from the main force, and sent back west.

Gently did they slide into port, into their moorings - the black hulls towering over the land surrounding, their conning towers bearing the smiling, pale faces of victorious submarine commanders. The war was going well, and everyone there had known it. Those who had shifted around, the people who had been enslaved in the course of the short campaign to seize the Luetian colonies, even they had known it.
And for the now-Intendant Faure, it was good news indeed. She had thoroughly enjoyed the fruits of her treason to a country which had never been truly hers - so she had reclined into her new life, stretching out in her seat - examining her new gloves with an appreciative eye and an omnipresent smirk - tail swishing behind her.

The windows, however, bore with them the sight of the conquering Lirvittians - and so, with heft to her step - she stood up, shifting over to the window to watch them arrive. It was a cool morning, and a relatively pleasant one - even if fog had partially obscured her view. The sea was a stark grey, just a shade darker than that of the sky - there was a slight chop to it, and occasionally, a strong breeze flew by, bearing with it the mists of the rising sea.

There were still things the young felind had to mind. She was a collaborator indeed - and she had earned, perhaps rightfully, the scorn of her peers. From her mind, they were simply those who lacked vision - those who could not understand the future that their benefactors had in store for their civilization and for this world. But more than that, as Intendant, she had her geopolitical position to be concerned with. The affairs of her once-homeland in particular had formed a steadily concerning front - and with all points pushing towards a collapse of the Luetian military and an end to the war - she had little doubt that the Cepvinians, unsatisfied with their victory, would inevitably come to the Carina islands - to ascertain the state of what was once a Luetian colony. Likewise, the Astovians, she determined, would not remain in ignorance permanently.

Returning to her seat - she opened her burgundy-colored cabinet, withdrawing the... terminal, which she was still slightly unfamiliar with - her hands still not-quite-deft against the unfamiliar keyboard, which she had always had to liken to a more familiar typewriter.
And so, she began to write her recommendations - to be offered to her benefactors in due time.
Intendancy of Carina
Office of the Intendant of Carina
Tsiviladministratsion-Ordatviti


VEKTOR-V Encryption


With my continuing observations of the developing situation within the Luetian Empire, with conditions indicating an imminent or current state collapse in progress, a state of affairs now exists within which the warring entities of the states of Cepvinia and Astovia, each imbued with capabilities that exceed my current capacity to resist them without the continued support of the benefactors, are now given precedent to investigate the occurrences upon this island which, to all indications, the world at large remains oblivious to.

While my confidence in ultimate victory according to the Imperial Will will occur nonetheless, I intend to offer a number of recommendations regarding engagement with said entities for the future based upon my prior knowledge as an inhabitant of this world.
  1. The Astovians may form a valuable asset in the future in the effort with which to secure the position of the Empire on the planet. Future integration remains necessary - but the co-opting of emergent political forces within the Astovian state may prove conducive to this goal. Open hostilities with this entity should be restricted for the time being, and an attempt made to secure a dialogue.

    This is to be accomplished in sequence with the following suggestion, and will increase the capacity of the Empire to integrate the former Luetian Empire.
  2. The Cepvinian entity will prove unsuitable for the future as a potential ally. Recommend integration or Liquidation upon the conclusion of the Bodroasian campaign, or at least, the liquidation of naval or aerial components of the military.
  3. The Olvanian entity is to be absorbed into the Astovian entity or annihilated entirely - based upon historical precedent, integration of the two into a merged realm may be possible.



•Bodroasia•

•12:30, July 26th, 2024•



Victory at Boksum had been achieved - and with it, the sweeping continuation of broad encirclements at Bloemandalburg, east of Molenduinen - cutting off the northern roads to Molendrachstraat and ending any chance of saving the coast, which was being sliced through by the Imperial razor. The seizure of lands deep into the interior of the country had brought with it the increases into efforts to secure the position - impromptu airports would be established to reduce reliance on the carriers, and to continue the ever-necessary flow of fuel and food to continue the Tekipesvvak to its fullest extent. The visage of the Shock Trooper was becoming an increasingly recognizable sight within the country, as they had tore through the country with a ferocity that only seemed to increase.

Helicopter-borne trooper assaults would be conducted ahead of armored assaults - or, accompanying them - helicopter gunships tearing through and occupying enemy attention while main-battle-tanks and infantry-fighting vehicles had continued to storm ever-nearer. These would be conducted with a high degree of mobility, an attribute of this sort of war that was also similarly recognized - any traditional idea of static warfare was promptly discarded, as by every means, forces would simply bypass those that were created - and the Imperial air force would simply shred those which remained.

The full exploitation of the breaking morale was also taken to its full effect - terror, doctrinal terror, was a key facet to how the Imperial military conducted its wars. To present so overwhelming of a force - to render hope useless - such was the aim.
But military planning had to continue nonetheless - with the encirclement of the coastal city of Bloemandalburg and the encirclement of Molenduinen in a broad pincer movement conducted primarily by armored units - there now had to be an effort to plunge the dagger east, to isolate and control the entirety of the coastline. The first amphibious division, which had been fresh from their prior landings, were to be sent once again, south of Grasduinburg - and a force of the sixth armored division, which would attempt to approach the city from the north - and indeed, to find the Bodroasian eastern border nearby. Such an effort would place the coastline in the full control of the Imperial military, with all being left to be done was the mopping up of any remaining resistance within the cities themselves.

Moreover, the effort to seize Echten would be continued - with the forces dispatched towards its capture opting to menace the city's reinforcement routes, bypassing any southerly or westerly defenses by striking to the east of the city in an armored wave accompanied by air cover provided by aDB-24 multirole stealth fighters - which had been loaded with their external pylons, not needing radar stealth against such a technologically impotent foe, and aDB-26 strike aircraft - their engines and rockets roaring.

However, with the pace of the war seeming that a total victory could be achieved within a month - the effort would now have to begin on finding a suitable collaborator population to work in immediate efforts of maintaining order behind the lines. For those in the occupied areas, increases in rations would be offered to those who would don the purple armbands, wearing masks to hide their identities from retribution - to form a sort of proto-Civil Protection unit. Being that they weren't quite trusted yet, they would be granted only Shock Batons, and rather basic uniforms - utilizing legacy GVS-2 hosed gas masks that disguised and dehumanized.
Last edited by Arakhkhar on Mon Aug 19, 2024 8:48 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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The Astovia
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Founded: Sep 18, 2023
Compulsory Consumerist State

Postby The Astovia » Tue Sep 17, 2024 5:11 pm

The silence from Carina was… for lack of better words, beginning to bring the ire of the Astovians. Were that all that emanated from the island - one might have assumed it were seized by some comprehensible foe, something they could yet understand - but it was the endless droning monotone repetition of seemingly nonsensical numbers, or sometimes of highly concentrated, erratic frequency variations that whispered eternally into the day and deep into the night. It was a source of endless confusion - and now, a source of a growing will to unravel this mystery. Having seen no action during the war, the Orbán Kristóf, and by extension a number of the ship’s escorts would be reassigned to investigate.

A simple set of blips upon an L-Band search radar - all that they had appeared as on the bridge of the A.N.S Nagadyn. The violet glow illuminated a pale face, a face which bore down upon the sight.
Commantark. Sem foreiin vvakmerintivi v sektor 9-12/

The Commander shifted over - the leather of her uniform creaking slightly as she swiftly moved - asking a question with a soft voice in her natural tongue.
Var natsion?
Vilholis.” (unknown)

Of course, for the crew of the Orbán Kristóf and her escorts, they were far out of their depth, there was something off with the situation that could not be named. Even if they were not expecting to have to fight, the commanding officers would order the crew to remain alert and on stations. If everything was to go to plan, the Astovians would assume control of the islands before leaving to let whatever coastal ship could be assigned to defend the islands from any possible future transgression. Obviously, the Astovian ships did not remain silent, communicating between both each other and the Royal Navy’s Command. For the observers who no longer bothered to remain completely silent, they were likely well aware of the Orbán Kristóf’s commanding officer, perhaps seeing it as a chance to take two birds with one stone.


The immediate conclusion drawn at Tsentralkommant was that of a necessity to identify the assailants - which could be completed relatively quickly, as ELINT could, at range, at the least identify the naval codes used as being similar to those used by the Astovians previously. With this, there was a relatively short meeting called - one in which a course was decided.

A radio frequency would be set up - and beside it… a few aDB-24 aircraft, with full-loaded pylons equipped with anti-ship missiles would be readied - in the event that… an agreement could not be achieved.

The Astovians were, for lack of better words, not invited to this meeting, with the force continuing their route to “shadow” the island before closing in. Though the Orbán Kristóf and one of her escorts carried a recon seaplane, they would not launch them, why waste fuel for something that was already decently well documented. Though, if the observers allowed them to witness what had become of the island, it would most certainly be a alien landscape from what they had once known.

A signal would be blasted on Astovian naval channels - the precise frequencies that they transmitted on had been identified - a broadcast that sounded with at first nonsensical numbers, before shifting into a more monotone voice - one in a more comprehensible voice, a recycling of Luetian codes that had been recovered.
IDENTIFY.
The term was simply repeated - again and again, six times, before stopping their effective jamming of the channel to allow them to respond.

The Astovians radio communication halted after the discussion, with the radio crews seemingly coming to the realization that their communications were compromised. It seemed that a conclusion was made between the ships, leaving the response for the Orbán Kristóf. After perhaps, five or so minutes, the Astovians would respond. “RANS Orbán Kristóf, identify yourself.” Yet, the Astovians felt as if something was off, believing that something else had to certainly be at play.

There was no response at first - silence reigned for all but a moment before
WE ARE OF THE INTENDANCY.

The Astovians did not respond to the Luetian voice, believing that the ‘Luetians’ who held the islands had simply attempted to establish an upstart country. Of course, if they sought to communicate further, the Astovians would be more than glad to negotiate what they believed to be an upstart country into the Kingdom.

Deciding to continue the point further - the operator standing at her post in Carina sent out another short message.
THIS TERRITORY IS UNDER THE PROTECTION OF THE ETERNAL EMPRESS.

The Astovians remained silent initially, trying to make sense of whatever they proclaimed the Eternal Empress could be. Eventually, the Astovians would inquire further, trying to figure out what the Carina islands had fallen to. “RANS Orbán Kristóf to Carina, identify the ‘Intendancy’ and ‘Eternal Empress’.”

A response would be quick - within seconds.
THE INTENDANCY OF CARINA BELONGS TO THE IMPERIAL PRINCIPALITY OF ARAKHKHAR - SUBJECT TO THE ETERNAL EMPRESS OF THE LIRVITTIANS.

The Astovians remained silent, this time remaining unresponsive, as far as they were aware, there was no nation by such a name, something was off. “There is no nation by the name of ‘Arakhkhar’. Request further clarification.”

There was silence for a few moments in the radio room. It was something to be expected - after all, their onset was a quiet one.
“YOU WILL WAIT.”
Those aDB-24s that had been put on standby - they would suddenly be rushed for something of a mission of vanity. They would be effectively scrambled to Mach 2.3 - distance to intercept at 200km - with a time to arrive at roughly 4.2 minutes.

During this time, the Astovians went into alert, preparing for what they believed to be a strike. Though they didn’t know what to expect, there would be no reason to remain unprepared, especially considering the nature of the response from this so called Intendancy.

Taking a few minutes to arrive - they began their approach, veering to the left at around 20 kilometers from the Astovian task force - to allow them to catch sight of the extraordinarily fast fighter aircraft.

The sight of the aircraft was met with immense confusion, from the occasional glimpses through the cloud coverage, though they still attempted to try and get the anti-aircraft batteries to track it, though holding off from firing until they could be properly identified.

The aircraft made a slow turn - before suddenly darting high, up and into the clouds in a way no other aircraft of the period could - a climb rate that, simply put, none of them could match.
The arrival was met with a continued message from the radio - another monotone voice that spoke in the same callous attitude - crackling gently.
OBSERVE - INSTRUMENTS OF HER WILL. YOUR ANNIHILATION IS NOT SOUGHT.

The anti aircraft of the ships attempted to keep pace with the movements of the aircraft, still too far to engage, and with orders to hold fire, it’d be just that, tracking the unknown targets. Obviously, the bulk of anti aircraft were far too slow to properly track the aircraft, most consistently losing sight. After the initial confusion, the Astovians would return radio communication to the island. “Carina Islands, identify unknown aircraft.”

The response was somewhat quick - mostly done in the spirit of… ‘cooperation’ - simply allowing them to identify the craft.
THEY ARE THE EMPRESS’S SERVANTS. FIRE, AND YOU SHALL KNOW ANGUISH LIKE NONE HAVE YET FELT.

The Astovians did not respond immediately, whether it be verbally or with their anti-aircraft guns. Aboard the ships, the Astovians would try to create a plan to figure out what was going on the island of Carina, obviously with air cover, the recon aircraft were out of the question. Obviously the ships would have to close the gap if they wanted to have any chance at actually figuring out what was happening, yet if the ‘Luetians’ had somehow managed to detect their ships at such a range, who knew what they had in store?

As they had planned - the black forms had darted through the white clouds once again - their engines roaring with the approach, as they dove down - diving directly overhead the lead Astovian warship - letting everyone hear their roaring engines - before pointing their noses upwards in their formation, before activating their afterburners - taking at high speeds and slowly curving back into the protective layer of the clouds.

As the aircraft returned to the cloud cover, the Astovians would hold fire, eventually returning radio contact. “You have our attention.”

A simple message was sent in reply as the fighters had already rose back into the cloud layer - and as the calculus of power, as forseen by Intendant Faute had dictated, had seemingly presented an opportunity for some form of exchange to take place in the future - the tone was reduced - and from 20 kilometers out, the fighters ducked back out of the clouds, allowing themselves to be seen as the circled the task force.
“You are permitted to bring one ship to Carina - and the highest ranking legal entity among your task force aboard. This authority will meet with our own. You will be escorted.”

A response would be sent out, with the RANS Orbán Kristóf breaking off from the rest of the group, the commanding officers ordering the ship to hold position. As the ship began a new course towards the island, they’d keep watch for the escorts that were supposedly escorting them. Though the crew is still ordered to remain alert for any possible hostilities.

The journey ahead would, naturally, take several hours - it had been 3 hours, and they were still 20 kilometers from the island - well within range of the island itself. Slowly, from the furthest edge of the vision of the furthest spotters aboard the Orbán Kristóf - they would have been able to make out the outline of a dark shape moving upon the horizon.

If the radar was correct, then perhaps the ship was around 190-230 meters long. Though they’d try to see if they could get any visual on the ship as they began to make their final approach. Aboard the Orbán Kristóf, Orsós Viktória would begin preparing for whatever type of meeting that they’d be having with the Arakhkharis.

From second floor of a misty building, peering through the misty window of the Intendant’s headquarters on Carina - the Intendant Faure gripped the edge of the window with gloved hands, watching with anxiety towards the horizon as the Astovian ship moved ever closer. She had orchestrated this meeting - sweat beaded on her pale brow, her little tail deftly swishing as she considered the weight of things to come. Pressure - pressure was what she felt, at her mind, in her skull - and at the pit of her stomach. She knew she might very well face the same fate as the man she had liquidated in the side of the room if she did not live up to expectations - it was her responsibility to live up to her promises - and this… this was her moment.

Carina was… far different… than the last time an Astovian ship had been present, how long was it now… 5 weeks… or was it months… or maybe years? Either way, the island was a completely different place now, wearing the name of Carina like a twisted mask, a perversion of what had come before. Regardless, they’d have to continue onwards, they had come too far to return back to the Astovian coast with nothing to say about the island.

As they did - the dark form on the horizon, the one which had been moving - began to turn, shifting so that it would soon draw a course parallel to that of the Astovian battleship. The sight was unfamiliar indeed, and most… did not trust the Astovians - there was silence aboard the bridge, as weapons operators waited in silence - knowing full well that they could not rely on missiles here.

Likewise, the bridge of the Orbán Kristóf was mostly silent, beyond the hushed conversations of officers, they’d begin taking the results of rangefinding, using the ship’s secondary rangefinders to try to just keep tabs on their opponent. Though the turrets did not turn to focus on the cruiser, the Astovians were clearly ready and waiting for Arakhkharis to launch their first attack.

From the highest point of the cruiser - upon that blackened mass of steel, electronics, and misery - something new was raised - something to show the Astovians their identity. The twin-shaded purple flag was raised, the golden eagle upon it - proudly waving, a monolith of corrupted color against a mostly grey sky.

The crew of the ship kept their watch, the flag of the Kingdom still snapping in the wind, initial reaction to the raising of the Arakhkhari flag was rather calm. Beyond now having a flag to place against the name, there was little else to add. As the ship began the final movements to pull in, both a handful of the ship’s security and the ranking officers of the ship would be visible on the deck.

Aboard the Imperial side - a similar, but alien take on that simple ritual of standing aboard the deck had taken place - as the ship’s small complement of Shock Troopers that it carried for defensive purposes (or the occasional boarding action) stood upon the deck - watching the Astovians from behind their masks. Some of the Kingdom’s finest, perhaps, might have been able to see the pale visages upon blackened forms which moved quickly about the ship - their clean uniforms remaining immaculate as they took their places to greet the Astovians.

They remained silent, waiting as the ship pulled into port before doing anything noteworthy. However, they did seem to be taking in the number of forces on the deck, likely in the case that any act of violence occurred that would require them to have to defend themselves. To the Arakhkharis, a quick glance over the party would make it clear who the outlier was as the ship slowly came to a halt.

Madame Faure - newfound Intendant, collaborator, and now - a diplomat, for the first time in her life - had now set out to the dock constructed by her benefactors - with her, her… supervisor and overseer had joined her - as well as a host of guards from the elements of the division that had been assigned to maintaining the defense of the area with the ongoing events in Bodroasia.

As the Orbán Kristóf came to a stop, the officers steeled themselves for whatever the Arakhkharis had in store for this meeting. If anything was to go deeply wrong, then the battleship could likely hold its own, even without the ranking officers. Alas, it was not wise to dwell on what could be, rather focusing on what currently is.


The Intendant stared at the battleship that drew nearer and came to a stop - her tail swishing from side to side occasionally as she considered how best to negotiate with the Astovians. She knew very well that… the place around them was something they had never seen before - the soil having been stripped from Kolano, concrete in lieu of grass - the callous and omnipresent sound of machinery at work - the internals of the Empire, and such that kept the war effort elsewhere going. The occasional sounds of strenuous toil continued on endlessly into the day - as purple-goggled Shock Troopers watched down from their posts, rifles slung.

It was almost alien, even what was recognized was alien and far different from anything even vaguely similar from this world. There was no shortage of unease as the Astovians watched from their ship, hesitating if it was worth it to trust whoever had lead them to the island. Yet they had been invited as “guests”, if they could at least figure out what and where these forces were coming from, they could return back to the Kingdom with hopefully no major problems or hiccups. Hence, the first Astovian boots would step upon the island, the few security forces engaging in a stare off with the Shock Troopers, prepared for anything to go wrong.

They stared with their eyes of purple, shining bright against them as the Astovians stepped onto this ground no longer belonging to their kin - and with their onset, the Shock Troopers steadily watched, turning their heads - ready for any form of action that might take place. Soon - the Astovians would have caught sight of the felind Intendant - wearing a purple armband on her black leather uniform - Shock Troopers standing behind her.

It was clear that this was no simple attempt to create a nation, not from the ship present, or the equipment of the forces who defended it. There had never been enough money or resources that typically flowed through the islands to explain as to much of the construction. Nonetheless, the Astovians who went on land would try to avoid raising too many questions at the moment. Standing on the end of the dock, the Astovians waited for these people to make their initial statements and lead them in for whatever negotiation was planned.

The Intendant stepped forward - her boots sharp against the ground as she walked. It was an almost surreal thing, to see a felind in charge here - something one knew, mixed with the unnatural and the insane.

“Astovians.”
She spoke softly, with her ever-so-slight knowledge of Astovian - she seemed unaccustomed to diplomacy in the traditional, polite respect - her mannerisms still vulgar, untrained to the intimate nature of international politics - but with her steps, she did display a certain detachment. She truly believed herself no longer of this world. When she spoke - this detachment was brought with her, but with… elements of her original nature remainder - her felind accent remaining as she rolled each ‘r’.
“I am the Intendant Ginette Faure. Administrator of this area.”

The Astovians discussed amongst themselves in hushed whispers, communicating distrust for this place, and the Intendant along with it. It wouldn’t have mattered if this ‘Intendant’ was human, felind, or avis, the Astovians would have been as suspicious as ever. If the Arakhkharis had caught on radio communications and intercepted reports, if they even bothered to translate them that is, it would single out the singular woman amongst the group as Orsós Viktória. Slowly beginning to take a few short steps forward.
“Good evening Luetian…”

The Intendant tilted her head ever so slightly, smiling somewhat.
“Luetian?”
She adjusted her uniform ever-so-slightly - seeming almost to take offense to be referred to as such.
“I am much more than what I once was, Orsós Viktória.”

Orsós Viktória seemed to be surprised at being recognized for a moment, eventually nodding and maybe taking a step or two back. It wasn’t out of the question to be recognized by someone who had likely at least heard of you before.
“Very well… Faure… I understand you have asked for the highest legal authority present. So, you have me here.”

The felind made a simple step forward, her expression unchanging as she considered the Astovian royal before her. Perhaps, in the days before, it might have been strange - almost an unimaginable thought, to meet with royalty - yet, with her considerations and with what she had seen - she had grown not to believe ultimately in the old nobility’s right to power - how could they hold that right, when it could be so easily deprived by her benefactors?

Once the extremely brief ‘shock’ of being recognized wore off, Orsós Viktória would return to a demeanor more expected of a royal. She took in the sights of the island - even though she had never been to it before, she could be certain it did not look like this ever before.
“I have come to understand the intent of a meeting, am I not wrong?”

“You have come for understanding, Princess? Then by all means, do follow along - there is much to discuss. We will have plenty of time to speak, after all.” The Intendant gestured behind her - to the empty streets that remained cold. “If you would be so kind as to follow me, that is.”

“Very well, if it will mean answers for… whatever you now pledge your loyalty to.” Orsós Viktória followed, taking a moment to look at the streets that look as if they could have remained empty for a hundred years. With the streets came the return of the uneasiness, whoever these… Arakhkharis were, they had certainly made their mark upon the island.

As they walked, Shock Troopers fell into place behind them on the street - always keeping watch, never doing any form of combat and never raising their weapons - just staring. The Intendant led the group through the desolate streets, speaking in turn with her back turned.
“What I pledge my loyalty to, my lady, is something that would be better discussed at a more convenient moment in time. Suffice it to say I place my… faith… my will - in the Empress.”


She nodded, occasionally giving glances at the Shock Troopers, probably trying to compare whatever they had on and carried to more familiar objects. “Then what do you consider a more convenient time? If not now then when?” She added, knowing it was likely not the best to press too hard when there were armed soldiers not even twenty feet away.

The Intendant did not turn her head, nor did she consider the question in earnest - simply dismissing it with a simple continuation - a smile spread upon her face, invisible to the trailing Astovians.
“All in good time, princess.”
She was enjoying the power she now wielded, even if it was power given and not earned - the ability to speak to a Princess with such candor would be something wholly unthinkable just two months prior.

Orsós Viktória nodded, clearly a little annoyed at the lack of any answers, but again, perhaps that was for the best at this time. Such talk was disgraceful, and if these so called backers were a fabrication, then the island could be easily crushed for their leader’s insolence. But, something about the things present here had made it clear that these benefactors were very much real.

The Intendant stepped with purpose, and eventually came to a brick building - one that had been turned into an impromptu residence for the Intendant. From a window above, the Astovians might have caught sight of the flash of unfamiliar purple eyes - not the goggles, like with the troopers, but with eyes of violet that shined bright with their corrupted hue. Only for a second were they visible before disappearing back through the second-story window, retreating into the building.

Perhaps it was the fact they had not seen another soul beyond the felind or the guards, but it would be a lie to say that unease was not building within the Astovians.

The building itself was the same one that had seen the sight of the Luetian surrender prior - a staircase sat at the back of the room, leading upwards, and the brick remained around - the old table having long been replaced with one comprised of a dark, burgundy-colored wood - the Imperial flag adorning the wall, alongside some carpeting of a deep purple pattern that contained some floral elements - quite elaborate - the Intendant taking her seat at one end of the table, she gestured to the other side - as Shock Troopers took to her flanks, unwavering and holding their rifles steadily.
“If you would be so kind as to sit down.”


The Astovians would take seats in the chairs available, knowing that, or rather believing that if anything was done to them, the Orbán Kristóf would be present to handle whatever came of it. Though, they expected nothing to happen, or at least for things to go over smoothly in the favor of the Kingdom.

The Intendant shifted in her seat, watching the Astovians - tail swishing slightly, a simple subconscious motion that took place without her real input or understanding. “So. You wish for… clarification, yes?”

“In a sense, you can say that.” One of the Astovians responded, staring at the Intendant with a deadpan expression, clearly having not been intimidated or in any way phased. Even if they hardly showed it, everyone else seemed in some way affected by the unease of the drastic changes to the island. Yet, the general sense of arrogance still hung in the air from the Astovians.

“Very well.”
The Intendant spoke softly, withdrawing a large black leather bound book with the silver double-headed eagle engraved onto it’s binding, setting it on the table. She looked up at the group - and she leaned back into her chair ever so slightly.
“If you could find any one thing in your soul - a question you had yearned for an answer for - or something more simple - a question of what yet you have faced, and what this world we once shared is now facing - if you could give that thing, that idea, that yearning a shape - a form - and to put it to words - what would it be? What clarifications do you seek?’

“Explain your nation, where they are from.” Orsós Viktória said, still expecting the Arakhkharis to be of this world.

“But how can one explain? What yet is there to reveal that is not already evident - that these… people around me - they are not of Kolano’s soil. I am told such things of Novalira - of black spires and lights of violet - in a place far, far from here - farther than you or I could possibly imagine. No - you wouldn’t quite believe me if I spoke of from whence they had come - so instead - let us speak on those matters which you would confer with me on.”


“Why have you let us come ashore here? If this is land under… a government in Novalira?” Orsós Viktória asked, her eyes fixed on the flag, likely trying to recognize it from any flag she actually knew from memory. Yet unsurprisingly, it was absolutely not a flag she could recognize, a flag alien to her mind.

“This is land under my administration, an authority delegated to me under the authorities in Novalira. The Imperial government, which, with my… overseer, has me as its representative in the immediate area.”

“Very well, then would there happen to be any questions you have for us?” Orsós Viktória asked, if they were going to have any sort of friendly interaction, letting the Arakhkharis raise their own questions could help keep them feeling as if the Astovians were not just poking and prodding into their business.

“There is little in the way of questions that we would have for the present situation - you see, there have been… efforts… to acquaint the Empire with Kolano - there is much we know of you - and yet so little that you would know of us beyond what we have told you today. I should not hesitate to suggest that mutual understanding, I believe, is possible - with… time.”

The Astovians were silent, each trying to think of a way to get some sort of information, or hold some sort of ‘diplomatic’ conversation, though with minimal information on the Empire, it’d be rather difficult to acquire.
“So, they are not of Kolano?” One of the officers asked, trying to string together what little they were told.


The Intendant made a silent gesture - turning to the guard to her side with a silent gesture, as if asking for permission to speak beforehand - before turning back to the Astovians. The Intendant spoke softly - leaning in, with the slightest twitch of her ear as she did so.
“Would you believe me truly if I said ‘yes?’”

“It would explain the infrastructure.” The officer muttered under his breath.

“So then how do you get your resources? Or your troops?” Orsós Viktória asked, going along with the idea that they were in fact, from another world entirely.

“The principle, I am told, is beyond my understanding or beyond the understanding of any scientific community yet to exist in this place. All you must know is that the resources, the troops - they come still, regardless of whether or not we understand it.”

The Astovians seemed to have a collective disbelief in the idea of ‘aliens’ in their world. After all, if they were truly from another world, wouldn’t the aliens this felind conspired with have sought to occupy the world by now? If they were preparing, then why would they let the Astovians into what very well may be their center of operations. “Then why here? Why not some land more valuable? Why just this lone island?” Orsós Viktória mused out loud.

The Intendant stared at the group with somewhat callous disinterest - and she clearly did not quite care for the question.
“What you see is not always as it appears, your majesty. It is not my purpose to explain our methodology or our practices - or to dispel something of which is borne of a simple lack of greater… knowledge about the goings on of the world.”

She tilted her head slightly, and smiled a bit. When she spoke to address Orsós Viktória, it was always with a hint of venom - not enough to be undiplomatic, but just enough to get the feeling across.
“Tell me, your majesty.”

“What do you know of Bodroasia?”

“The Republic? What of them? That they exist?” Orsós Viktória asked, seemingly confused at the need to mention the small Republic. Had they launched some sort of attack upon them then? Or was it simply to change the subject? She could not tell, either option could be valid.

“Has anyone heard any contact from them in the past… month?”
Of course, she knew that the answer would be a no - constant broadband jamming across multiple frequencies had effectively silenced the screams and pleas of the Bodroasians over the radio, the systematic annihilation of command centers and communication posts had only contributed to that - what little could be spread from Bodroasia came from the scattered refugees who had fled to the north, east, and west - fleeing the terrifying pace of the advance. Few, perhaps, had noticed yet the fact that the light of Bodroasia had been snuffed out.

“I do not believe so-You are telling me this island is behind the radio silence?” She asked, slowly coming to an understanding that was likely, not yet complete - though close enough for the Astovians to have a somewhat decent picture.

“This island in particular? Partially. Perhaps one may have also noticed contemporary silence on Antlia in turn - and at Carina, now. Such locations are… under my administration at the present interval. The work being done in Bodroasia has not been my decision, though I am… pleased to have aided in the effort.”

The Astovians remained silent, each with their own reaction, a select few examples being confusion, an uncaring expression, and interest. Though Astovia had no interest in the affairs of Bodroasia, the news could at least satiate the Royal Navy’s Command.
“Very well, so what is your interest in letting us discuss with you? What interest do you have in our government?” The officer who bore the deadpan expression asked, his tone distant and disinterested.

The Intendant spoke softly as she considered the question for herself.
“It was my recommendation to the Imperial government that we discuss with you. After all, you had been allied to the preceding administration which had once claimed this place - an administration which has ceased to exist. Luetia, as you may know - is in a state of chaos, and the Cepvinians appear at the cusp of victory. As to what interest we have in your government - it is a simple calculus for what follows afterwards. The Astovians will, in short order, defeat Olvania - and Cepvinia will conquer and vassalize Luetia. In the end of the present conflict, the seeds have been laid for the next one - as they inevitably would seek to cast down your crown. This is not within our interest.”


“What makes you believe that the Kingdom can not prevail against the Republic?” The officer continued, his uncaring glance looking almost past the Intendant.

“I had not stated, officer, that we did not believe your nation was capable of defeating its enemies. You, however, as a military officer - must recognize that such a war would be upon equal terms for your respective strengths. Perhaps you may prevail, or they might - but it would come only after one side or the other has been ground down in a torrent of blood. Millions would die - Cepvinian, Astovian, and indeed, in battles upon the soil of my former homeland.” The felind spoke somewhat seriously, albeit it was hard to ignore her… unique catlike accent.

Orsós Viktória finally broke her own silence, “Allow me to understand, you have encouraged the government you pledge fealty to try to establish some form of alliance? Am I not wrong or misinterpreting?”

The Intendant tilted her head slightly, and her tail swished about from side to side.
“I have encouraged this meeting because a mutual understanding in this matter is preferable. If an alliance is what is required as a part of that - and supposing that it remains within the interest of the Imperial government - then that would indeed be my proposal.”

Most of the Astovians would have some variety of reaction, nodding, becoming lost in a unspoken thought, or perhaps planning, “Very well, seeing as you are our only line of communication to this Imperial Government, I believe that I can speak for the Royal Government in saying we will remain open to further communications.” Orsós Viktória added, trying to sound far more powerful in government than she really was.

The Intendant stood up, taking stock of the situation around her.
“It is agreed, then. Our courses will remain still as such.”

The Astovian nodded, bringing the meeting to a silent close. Leaving with no islands brought under ‘temporary administration’ but rather more questions than they had come with. Perhaps some questions were better left unanswered for the time being however.
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Arakhkhar
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Postby Arakhkhar » Sun Oct 27, 2024 10:08 pm

March of the Conquerors

•Bodroasia•

•July 26th•



The war had gone on - and the efforts of the preceding days had gone well. The encirclement of the capital, and of almost the totality of the coast, had been completed in full - Bodroasian units of anything larger than a company had effectively vaporized on contact with the Imperial military, with the command structure having been annihilated in its totality, the burden of command had largely shifted to local NCOs and lesser officers. Small unit tactics would be the primary mode for the Bodroasian military from then on out - and by now, the Imperial Military had honed and perfect the leveraging of it's extreme advantage in technology and fire support wherever and whenever they could. Of these favored tactics - it was found that the IG-55 Hunter-Killer was an extremely potent implement of warfare. In tandem with rapid mechanized advances met with the violet gaze of Shock Troopers upon foreign soil - the vehicle could rapidly respond and react to those situations where forces came under fire, conduct reconnaissance, or conduct aggressive aerial encirclement in a tactic similar to fireforce. It was now and here that a metric for victory was no longer in terms of territory taken - but in the amount of Bodroasian bodies piled and burnt en-masse.

What came elsewhere was of a sort of situation that few in that time could have possibly known - as the old world clashed with the new, as the implements designed for a war unknown in its totality to the people thereof - a war of a kind that the Imperials were the first to properly introduce to those who had resided on Kolano. Mechanized warfare was a swift and brutal process - one that left no-one to escape it's maw. The Imperial military stormed onward - through the boundaries of Bodroasia, the first vanguard units had met the easternmost borders of Bodroasia - some of them... even crossed over, due to the lack of proper navigation equipment caused by the lack of satellite coverage - such raids would almost always last hours in length, and bear with them fire in their wake. Besides such... cross-border raids - there would be the main vector of the war itself - that being a mechanized assault on the capital itself. The enemy, of course, lacked any serious anti-tank weaponry - and so armored equipment could operate with impunity.

A Trooper's right - the right to conquest and the yield laid out before her. Such was what bore before the eyes of a conquering Imperial - to gaze out endlessly unto the Bodroasian plain, as black tanks rode under the beating sun and away from the coastline - from the fog from whence they had came, a dagger plunging ever deeper into the heart of Alovna. Whether borne of the air cavalry, to set foot upon the charred and broken rooftops of the capital and its surroundings. Here, when a trooper stepped and stomped, she could always rely on their drones to gather intelligence with impunity - small unit tactics, and the supremacy of the OKO-14, in tandem with advantages in every qualitative metric - had borne predictable results in the past. A Trooper's right to conquest indeed - to take from the local population whomever one pleased! To plunder, perhaps, to pilfer the bounty of man and woman alike - or perhaps, simply a delight enough to meet the fear in the eye of a disgusting barbarian birdlike fool. Perhaps it was easier, through the violet lens - when numbers and data whistled around and circled in front of you. Perhaps it was... not quite... tangible - through that helpful stream. Sometimes, there would be a pause - hesitation? If... only for a moment - before a plead for mercy would be answered duly with a bullet. From whence the Troopers had came, they now began to drive hard - and more aggressively. Though they had only begun to enter the capital via their helicopters - mechanized forces had, already, by that point, made their encirclement - and had already begun to drive north - the pungent smell of burning flesh still fresh in the air, the smoke from barrels still rising. Violence had begotten violence, conquest bore the spoils of further conquest - to impose became an imposition, and to shackle oneself to the application upon it to another - and yet to another. It was never enough, not on the first day nor on the second - not even after a week had passed.

A certain drunkenness, perhaps, but not in liquor. The Troopers had acquired in full force a thirst - and an addiction for war - so much as this could be called a war.


•Novalira, Imperial Principality of Arakhkhar, Badlands Frontier•

•18:21, July 26th, 2034•


The conduct of Empire was a fickle thing, perhaps. And the drunkenness of the forces on the frontlines was far, far from the towering spires of Novalira - in all their terrifying majesty. Black spears reached through the thick fog and pierced the sky - and from each, a ghostly glow of purple remained throughout - giving the city the atmosphere it had been known for in all the years that it had been established for. The endless toil of the laborers below - the politicking and worship of the nobility above. A world unseen to most who were not intimately familiar with the machinations of the shadow-state, perhaps, and a world that was quite literally previously unimaginable to the affairs of the people throughout Kolano. Yet something new had happened throughout the walled palatine manor of the Vicereine - whose gaze remained ever on the rising sun over the Sovalan Sea, which had always attempted to no avail to pierce through the victorious fog.

Ruminance everlasting - the contemplation of war and politics and slavery and freedom, in whatever meager ways they went about in the world around them. The war afar had been something of an afterthought, there, even if it had seen the deployment of what was a rather substantial commitment of resources. Every little day, the Vicereine's ancient eyes had shifted onto another little report made by some scrounging subordinate aiming on how best to serve and please the Empire - every day it had been this way, since the day she had come to power. It would continue long, long after her - and at times, the Vicereine considered... the purpose of it all. The constant war - she had seen it from the early days of her inception as a Crown Princess of the Empire - then, when wars were fought on horseback and when lances and polearms had dominated. It had never ended, really - the means changed, and the faces sometimes did as well - both of the allies and of the enemies - but never had it been so... impersonal. It was one thing to ride atop a horse and to seize an enemy prince by the throat - such was what she had remembered, and it was something she remembered... fondly - the smell of smoke heavy in the air, the rising blackness, the red spatterings on the ground - to whip and lash through the battlefield as though it were a field of play alone. To throw a man from his horse - to peel the helmet from his head, and to gaze into the terrified eyes of the nobleman who lay under it. Almost... intimate.

But war had changed. It was this way no longer - conquest driven through the electronic means, through machine-men, and through the instruments of death which soared high above.

She could almost pity the Bodroasians.

It was such a... such a way to be conquered, without any real hope for a fight. Yet, they had lived to serve the Empress - whether they knew it or not. And when she saw those statistics day in and day out, she was always reminded of the things that had been done in her name - in the name of her mother - and yet... it had never quite possessed the same... appeal.
By the Vicereine's Will.
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The Astovia
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Postby The Astovia » Fri Nov 08, 2024 11:17 pm

Bodroasia, Molenduinen

One might seem to think that with the Bodroasian Army's practical dissolution in the face total annihilation that the will to fight had been beaten out of the Bodroasians. Perhaps the Bodroasian was too foolish to truly comprehend what was happening, or perhaps they willingly let themselves stand in ignorance even as tales of the brutality of the invader came into Molenduinen. Obviously, there was little homemade Molotovs or glorified hunting rifles could do against the Arakhkhari forces advance, but perhaps it could stall them for long enough to make a point. With limited armor and equipment in general, the defenders would be left to have to make do with what little they had, trying to stave off the feelings of hopelessness as they tried desperately to hold onto their capital. Encircled with no way out, a number of civilians took up arms in addition to the Army, they could not truly reply to the invader, but at least they could go down with more than a pure whimper.

Those that did not hide and heed the warning of the refugees would find themselves far out of anything that they could reasonably prepare for. Some would take refuge in the sewers, seeking to engage in hit and run upon the invader, others who could muster up the foolish courage to stand up openly would likely perish quickly, but at least they could die in the thought that they fought for their country. Most proper ambushes and weapon nests had to be assembled inside buildings, both those made victims of bombing and the few untouched. With little proper manpower, even walking wounded would be brought in to try to provide what little support they really could. Yet, as the fires of Bodroasia continue to worsen, the fate of the doomed republic has all but been sealed.

Bodroasia

Akin to that in the capital, the state of Bodroasia was all but well, with a lack of proper command elements, the Bodroasian Military was like a wounded animal, trashing and flailing in a mad attempt at victory. With losses piling up more and more, surrenders and desertions began ramping up in ever increasing numbers. Though they provided little in the practical sense, whatever remained of the Bodroasian armored forces was isolated to lone tanks following stragglers of the Army. Rarely could there be any large cluster of Bodroasian forces without the fear of being virtually annihilated by combined aircraft and ground forces.

The cross-border raids left far more questions than they gave answers, each one adding to a slowly growing list of reports of 'an alien force'. Though the eyes of the world were not yet fully upon Bodroasia, it would be a lie to say that they did not keep it in their peripheral, waiting until it can be pushed aside no longer. With little getting out of Bodroasia proper, the world was left to merely wonder and speculate from the few reports as to what the Bodroasians were up against. As for the nations more 'directly' effected by the incidents, orders for more forces to be placed along the border were common, at least until whatever was going on in Bodroasia settled down to let the world know what had gone down within the Republic.




Word spread amongst the highest of the Astovian Royal Navy, the King, and eventually to the high command of the Royal Army, dots were slowly connected from what little they had. The silence of Bodroasia was infact, connected to the silence of Luetia, and if the technology that the Astovians had seen in such limited number was spread to all elements of the 'Arakhkhari' Army, then they likely did not plan at stopping at Bodroasia. Whether the Astovians liked it or not, the world was changing, and they would be rather helpless if they came knocking. Some amongst the upper echelons of government called for 'further communication' with these outsiders, seeing an opportunity to perhaps gain even a sliver of the technology they had seen the Arakhkhari forces use.
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Postby Arakhkhar » Sat Dec 14, 2024 8:32 pm

Setbacks and Rectification

Molenduinen, Bodroasia, Alovna
07:21, July 28th, 2024


"Sudden setbacks." The words came sharply, cutting as a knife to Commander Kata. "Such... setbacks... cannot be tolerated." The Primark stood - taking a walk through her little headquarters. The island had long since been transformed utterly - only the cold seas awaited outside, resting on that island. "We operate on a certain schedule. This world is... waking up. I am going to assign additional resources to you - and authorization to use chemical weapons. I do not care how many must die, just see it done by the following month or I shall see you in chains." The Primark turned, staring at a mortified commander - who dared to show neither fear nor fervor, to disguise the quivering of her lip at the thought of what would then follow. The Primark spoke sweetly thereafter, in a sort of cloying manner that could just about make her skin crawl. "Am I understood? Or should I teach you a lesson in this matter?"

"Such is not necessary."

It was this that the Commander remembered and held in her heart as she supervised what remained of Molenduinen. A hastily established camp carved out from a bombed out school - harboring a command element, a makeshift prison, logistical facilities - the constant flow of roaring trucks carrying the crates upon crates of ammunition and fuel necessary for the continuance of mechanized, armored warfare. Troopers supervised from towers up on high, and marksmen kept their rifles steady in pre-prepared kill-zones. The Imperial military had, with time, noted the fact that the enemy was making some effective usage of the sewers below - it was this which had... taken place in the conflicts of Sylvaria, and something of a slowly establishing general pattern. This was not something particularly new, nor particularly inventive of the enemy - and yet, the conditions therein were slowly coming to a single conclusion. If the city was to continue to attempt to prepare through carefully established kill zones, buildings that had been made into traps - then there was little other choice than to carry out what could only be described as it's annihilation - to make an example of what occurs to those who resist too long.

At what was once the school-playground, there lay a ditch - dug hastily, shovels neatly arranged. Twenty Bodroasians would follow, heads bowed - some would even, in their fear, try to run. They were met with the crackling strike of stun batons, their cries stifled by violence. It mattered little who they were—civilians, soldiers, Felinds, Avis, or Humans. Those deemed unworthy of slavery, the Vilarkviti, a mercy not yet understood by the condemned, would eventually come to face the same fate. The ground was worn from the tread of countless victims before them, rough and the grass left bare from the constant trample of feet. A few among the group retched, clutching their stomachs as they drew closer to the pit. Others wept openly, their tears carving streaks through dirt-streaked faces. Now and then, defiance flared. A man lunged for a weapon, only to be gunned down before he could reach it, his body crumpling among the others. A single Trooper marched heavy - face bound behind that mask of black and rubber, the eyes of purple, the eyes of hatred indescribable. Heavy boots crunched against the ground - the point and jab of the barrels of rifles until each Bodroasian would kneel, to face that pit.

"For every soldier killed in combat..." the Commander spoke.

The sight was indescribable. Perhaps for the better, then, except only that it could be described as a single mass. The scent, too, was better left untouched, only that it was something of a mixture of blood, feces, and vomit, of rot and decay in a pit of sadness. The weeping was intolerable, now, and some - some looked away. The sound followed after - as periodically as a job entailed, one would hold a single 10mm pistol - and as carelessly and as quickly as one might expect, a single shot - a weeping voice fell silent. The Trooper behind her would give a kick, if it was necessary, to usher the unfortunate into the pit. It followed after that the camp was silent once again.

"Twenty Bodroasians will die." The Commander held her stern expression - staring into the serious, cognizant expression of her subordinate. Something was conveyed in that stare, before the Commander stood up - shutting the window quickly and closing the blinds - reaching for a mug of coffee, she spoke gruffly. "I... hope they surrender soon."

Through those sewer access points now made available - a curious sight would have taken place. Manhole covers would be opened, and from them - a rubbery, snaking tube would be laid well into it. Purple eyes looked on as it fell and flailed about handily, before finally coming to a blissful rest at a single point. It snaked across the ground, coming to a metallic valve - and followed thereafter by the black rubber until concluding at a vast, blackish metal cylinder - a large, mobile tank, carried in the back of a PWV-53. Only, of course, this time it was not to carry the more readily available hallucinogen gas that had been used prior. A little creak came along, followed by the hiss of gas, and an Officer - gloved, and her pale face obscured by a gas mask that made her appear as a bug - started a little, vintage chronometer. Heavier than the air, and now being pumped at high pressure into the sewer - a whitish gas, first in quick spurts, fast at first before billowing out like a cloud, moving more slowly as it began to creep through the narrow ducts and channels of the sewer, the foul smell now being mixed with the toxic onset of a rather pertinent nerve agent. The chronometer ticked - tick, tick, tick, incessantly - the officer gave a little hand signal, and the flow was quickly stopped, the dial closing as the valve shut. Gripping the end of her gas mask - the officer stared down into the billowing white of the toxic pit - and with the same vitriol, she shouted in her native language down into that pit - "That is for Vara, barbarians!" - retreating back, for the watch - and in the moment of solemnity shared by her Troopers - she produced her gas mask, placing it back on her face. "On to the next point. Come on, they're not going to kill themselves." That black tube was pulled back, quickly, the Manhole quickly sealed - the tube brought back to the vehicle, hooked into place with an industrial, synthetic care. It was to move on to the next manhole - then the next - then the next after that. Then, they would refill, and continue on a further patrol.

As for the gas itself - it was a nerve agent, one known to some as VX. Operating on skin contact, on inhalation, or even simply by contact with a contaminated substance - it would remain for weeks, months, years. The effects would better not be described, only by lethality should it be described. This would follow, day in, day out, from the beginning of dawn when the tanks first refilled, as they poured out into the sewers below, and as they were then brought back for yet another full load. Just when it was suspected that the effect might wear off - the survivors, as little as there may have been, would be met by the onset of a new weapon - bore on four propellers, and moving and darting swiftly throughout the tunnels, carrying a tiny piece of explosive. They had an autonomous form of guidance, naturally - input wasn't so much required. Where it was necessary, Troopers - fitted with their own independent air supply, fitted into large compressed air tanks on their backs, hooked to their masks - would enter, with the aim of mopping up whatever - if anything - would be left.
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Postby The Astovia » Sat Jan 04, 2025 8:09 pm

Bodroasia, Molenduinen

With Arakhkhari forces at the gates and already well within the suburbs and inner city, the limited remaining defenders began preparing for their last stand. By this point, whatever remained of their supplies had been soaked up by infantry desperate for whatever scraps of munitions they can secure. The few defenders who hadn't yet fallen were isolated pockets across the city, sewers were off the table now with all the chemicals that got pumped in, the few who had somehow managed to avoid the gassings would fall quickly or surrender. Fighting across the city was becoming more and more sporadic, attempts were made by some to break free and escape the falling city. Most of the Bodroasian soldiers within the capital had already perished, their defenses destroyed and holdouts trampled, the fighting had devolved into mostly just unorganized locals naïve enough to think that they could turn back the tide of the battle.

Through bombed out ruins, the last of the Bodroasian defenders prepare for one final effort, official head counts weren't exactly available, perhaps there would be some even smaller holdouts who didn't catch wind of the plans while others likely already surrendered. It might have been three hundred to five hundred or so soldiers and irregulars preparing with what little breathing room they might have. Those who had lost their guns or simply not had one to begin with were armed with whatever they could scrounge, rods, knives, broken bottles and all other sorts of other random things that could be hastily taken and used. Messengers hurried through rubble to try and communicate the plans for the counterattack to whoever was willing to muster, the plans were hazily organized, mostly just seeking to retake key infrastructure and government buildings. It wasn't much, but maybe if fate and the Gods were on their side they could manage to make some form of ground that would give them a chance to hold out.

When the rough hour of the attack came, the remnants moved into position, the timing wasn't an exact science, and the first shots were taken a few minutes ahead of schedule, but at least it was close enough for them to be mostly negligible. Obviously, the forces weren't the most coordinated, but they at least seemed to know the basic areas and what they were trying to retake from the Arakhkhari Invaders. Even though the Bodroasians spoke of this being the fight to turn back the tide, in the back of the heads of most of them they already knew it was over, only going along to avoid abandoning their countrymen who took up arms.



Somewhere outside Molenschot

Far from the "frontlines", members of the Central Staff and whatever remained of the Bodroasian High Command had gathered in a restaurant converted into an improvised command center. Nominally it was meant to try to coordinate the defense of the Republic and figure out how to push back against the invader, in reality it was just a handful officials sitting around trying to desperately communicate with their own forces. The President was presumed dead, and most of the Congress was listed as unknown, and in the absence of the rest of the government, Minister of Defense Martijn Kikkert, was sworn into the "office" of the President of Bodroasia. There may not have been much government to effectively reorganize considering the situation, especially as all that remained of the Bodroasian government could easily fit into the restaurant's dining area.

Time was running out, and Kikkert knew that, deciding to take a show of hands of all those who actually believed the Republic could achieve victory over the onslaught. Not a single soul rose their hand, at most they took a drag from their cigarette, and though it may have not been a formal vote, did it truly matter at this point? Some nodded silently, others lowered their head into waiting hands, and the fate of the Republic had been sealed, and the "Congress" adjourned in silence. For the next few hours, Kikkert sat in his 'office' writing a speech to whatever remained of the nation, knowing not if by the time he had finished that Molenschot would still be under Bodroasian control.

After a brief drive to the closest radio station, Kikkert made his way in quickly and took a seat by the broadcasting equipment, waiting for the radio technician to give him a thumbs up that they were now broadcasting. Thus he made one last glance down at his paper before speaking into the microphone.

Countrymen, patriots, citizens, over the last few months, Bodroasia has been at a war with an invader that has shattered all it has come up against. Boksum, Bloemendalburg, Echten, all have fallen, and we know that they have no intent to stop there, now they drive Northward, to take the last remaining lands of the Republic.

The President is dead, much of the Congress had perished with him in the early stages of the invasion. Earlier this morning, I held a vote amongst the remaining officials of the Republic, we came to the unanimous decision that victory was long no longer possible for us. Though I understand these words will be harsh to hear, the Bodroasian Army, with the signature of several of the highest-ranking personnel remaining, are ordered to lay down their rifles and surrender.

Along with the Army, the Government of Bodroasia, as with unanimous decision, formally issues a declaration of our surrender, if at all possible, we will attempt to get into contact with the invaders to formally end this war. We have fallen today, but Bodroasia will remain, may the Gods above ensure that...


Kikkert continued on, encouraging civilians not to take up arms, asking remnants of the Army to defend against anyone who sought to engage in banditry until they encountered the invaders. Today he was perhaps a traitor, but maybe one day he would be absolved in the machinations of history.



Off the Coast of Bodroasia

Whatever remained of the Bodroasian Navy, if one could even call it a navy at this point with the few patrol boats, minesweepers, and destroyers that had avoided destruction by being out at sea during the initial strikes had formed into a small straggler force, prior observations and engagements had shown that the Bodroasians lacked the firepower to engage in anything but a suicide strike. The few sailors who survived had been forced to watch their country die from afar, unable to do anything but take in the lucky handful who had either managed to take small boats to them or launch the brief excursion to gather locals for evacuation.

When the radio crackled to life with the voice of the Minister, speaking of the surrender of the nation, the remnants of the Navy decided that they had done all they could, scattering to flee to Bodroasia's neighbors. There was no time to give proper farewells to the country, only slipping silently in the night hoping that they could get through the cracks.




The world outside was not blind to the reports from Bodroasian refugees, and though the Great Powers of the world did not see fit to come down upon the carcass of the Republic, her neighbors took keen interest. After discussion amongst the Command of the Bironians, they launched an incursion into the borders of the former Republic, seeking to figure out what had gone wrong and bring territory into the state for the sake of a buffer zone. Rosmein to the north came to figure out what had gone wrong with scouts and calvary, while the Thalindran Army prepared to launch a push to seize the border city of Molenschot and whatever else they could grab to protect their Avis brethren in the country. The Bodroasian Remnants were in no state to put up a fight beyond skirmishes and gathering irregulars to set up ambushes, perhaps once the surrender could be made official, her neighbors would be forced back in the sake of "maintaining peace in the region". Though the corpse of Bodroasia may have been used by her neighbors as land to grab and questions to be answered, the world as a whole grew a touch more aware...
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