"Cease & Desist" - 2024 Governmental Crisis [IC/MT/CLOSED]

[The Scandoslavic Empire]

In 1994, the June Attempt shook the nation of Scandoslavia to its very core, as the beating heart of the People's Republic was thrust into chaos following a coup attempt by the People's Council. Though the events of June, 1994, would never be forgotten, life went on.

But in 1997, the capital city of Mostka would once again be subject to the horrors of a coup attempt. The Scandoslavic Identity Movement (SIM), an authoritarian nationalist party with no political representation, declared themselves the sole authority over Mostka and took to storming the People's Council Building and the Vrefin Complex. But they too would fail, and the people would persevere and emerge from the rubble with pride, knowing that the People's Republic could survive under immense pressure.

At the start of 2024, things seemed to be going well. Mostka was clean, safe, and beautiful. The people were happy, and the government seemed stable. With the reelection of President Joskev Volydim, and even an official statement from the BTA that things across the country seemed to be rather peaceful, the citizens of Scandoslavia - specifically Mostka - felt that they could finally be free from governmental power struggles and coup attempts.

This was all proven wrong on December 11th, 2024. Early in the morning, a single BTA patrol car spotted a strange individual with a large case heading towards the Mostkavna Embankment. When the officer pulled over and attempted to question the man, he was shot by a suppressed weapon hidden on the suspect and killed almost immediately. The BTA kept an extended security detail on patrol looking for the suspect until 12:45 PM. On the main road of the Mostkavna Embankment, just in front of the People's Council Building, People's Council Head Aleksev Nyrikov exited and began to descend the front stairs, when two shots rang out and he fell to the ground. BTA agents in the vicinity quickly spotted the shooter - a man with an SSV-54 sniper rifle, laying prone in the bushes and shrubs across from the People's Council Building. They opened fire, and the suspect was killed. On him they found a note that declared "Forever & Always", a line from the Scandoslavic National Anthem. A mere 30 minutes later, televised interviews with other People's Council members were all over state broadcasting networks, and the news of the assassination of the People's Council Head had reached nearly everyone in the country. And then, from seemingly nowhere, trouble. Reports from other sectors of Mostka that entailed something harrowing - the Scandoslavic Identity Movement was not only back, but stronger than before. The People's Guard of Mostka was quickly dispatched, and makeshift barriers and barricades set up around the perimeter of the People's Council Building. The President, in the Vrefin Complex, was evacuated to his emergency bunker under the Vrefin itself, and briefed on the situation. But outside, conditions deteriorated quickly. Several People's Guard deployment groups had been ambushed by the SIM insurgents, and countless vehicles were stolen and commandeered. The BTA had agents all over Mostka, and some that were meant to keep tabs on the Scandoslavic Identity Movement - but they were deemed to be a non-threat at the time. Now, however, they were very well on their way to taking down the entire People's Council - and if they succeeded, the President would surely be next.

With the BTA unable to respond, and the People's Guard in shambles, the President has turned to the international community for help. From his bunker, President Volydim has sent out a message to the nations of the world, calling upon them to bring in any available peacekeeping forces they can to defend the People's Council, the Vrefin Complex, and the citizens - and to save Mostka and Scandoslavia as a whole. The Mostka Airbase, in the southern half of the city, is under People's Guard and Air Force control, but with the SIM in control of stolen military equipment and vehicles, that may change at a moments notice.

People's Council members being interviewed after the assassination of Aleksev Nyrikov

People's Guard blockade in the streets of Mostka

---

This is the IC thread. Please treat it as such.
Seeing as the intro pretty much sets the stage, you may all begin your deployments and whatnot.

[Leitzmark]

- Mostka Airbase
Two large transport Helicopters carrying 30 soldiers in total to act as a quick reinforcement, with the rest of the forces arriving by boat. All of the soldiers are equipped with Anhaltsf¡cker-Mk4s and Glockkamm V19 Pistols. Alongside them, Colonel Olåv (The Commander dude) arrives, expecting orders from the Scandoslavic government.
The ship should arrive at the northwestern coast of Scandoslavia to travel to Mostka.


(That’s all for now)

[Nation M]

The war cabinet at Zeina V had been getting flack in the international press - a position they intended on being reversed with a more humanitarian approach. Scandoslavia was a prosperous nation that enjoyed tranquility, it's peace breached by a Nationalistic movement that had taken the nation by storm. With cooperation, and in agreement with the standing government of Scandoslavia, the Armed Forced of The Federation made their way to the Mostka Air Base. Intelligence suggested MIT forces could be imbedded in government installations. The first transport air mobility unit would be launched, keeping in continuous contact with forces of Leitzmark whom would be first to enter the troubled nation.

Lieutenant Commander Atrius Rex would lead the peacekeeping mission. He was a confident man, standing 183cm in height. He's up for promotion, and his handling of the 180 strongman forces in Scandoslavia would make or break his military career. In the skies above the continent the aerial wing of C-5M Super Galaxy's carrying the armored vehicle and personnel inched their way closer to the border. The onboard command center would make contact with senior member of Scandoslavia - gathering as much intelligence as possible. The first objective would be to secure the Air Base, and create a security buffer before continuing toward the strategic defence positions within the city center.

[Socalist Republic Of Mercenaries]

Inbound to Mostka Airbase... Somewhere over Europe.
The hum of the EF-410M-3’s engines was a constant companion as Konstantin Zaytsev piloted the sleek aircraft alongside the lumbering IL-76. The transport plane was a hulking presence, dwarfed by the nimble fighter-bomber that danced effortlessly through the sky next to it. In the cockpit of his EF-410M-3, Konstantin had a perfect view of the massive cargo plane, its cargo doors open to reveal the Stratusian peacekeepers ready to assist in the tumultuous situation unfolding below in Mostka. His co-pilot handled the flight path while he focused on the excitement of the mission—this wasn’t just another routine patrol, and Konstantin had an excellent view of what was to come.

He read over the FLIR, looking down on the thermal specks scurrying around, SIM militants, protestors, rioters, soldiers, tanks, burning barricades, all displayed in a clean black-grey-white.

"Everything look good, Konstantin?" Larissa Nikolaev’s voice crackled over the intercom. She was in the rear gunner position, but Konstantin had learned quickly that she wasn’t just a tech expert behind the controls. She was sharp, quick-witted, and, in her own way, quite the flirt.

"Ja, Ja... All clear up here, Larissa." Konstantin replied, a smirk playing on his lips. He adjusted the throttle slightly, bringing their aircraft in closer to the IL-76, the distant hum of the engines blending into the rhythmic pulse of his own. He glanced over his shoulder briefly, catching her silhouette against the backdrop of the large, open cargo bay.

"You know, I was thinking... you're really not doing yourself any favors by staying back there. You should be up here, helping me fly. Imagine the views you'd get. More than just the rearview mirror."

Larissa’s laughter came through loud and clear, warm and teasing.

"Is that so? Maybe next time, I'll steal the front seat from you. After all, I can handle more than just aiming guns, Zaytsev."

"Ah, I'm sure you can..." Konstantin replied, pretending to look distracted as he adjusted his flight path.

"Though I wouldn't mind having you in front... might make it a bit easier to keep my eyes on you."

"Oh, please..." she responded with mock exasperation, though he could hear the amused grin in her voice.

"The front's all business. You wouldn't be able to handle it. Besides, I'm fine where I am, getting paid to keep us safe from behind the guns. Plus, I get to take over the LM250s if you get to preoccupied..."

Konstantin laughed softly. His gaze shifting back to the IL-76 which flanked him, now flying steadily through the clear blue sky, its size imposing despite its slow pace. He could see the aircraft’s fuselage stretching across his view, the massive airframe belying the importance of the cargo it carried.

"Fair enough, Larissa, fair enough." he said with a chuckle.

"You’ve got your hands full anyway. You know, I've always said I prefer a woman who knows how to handle a heavy weapon. Or two in this case, remote controlled."

Larissa snorted over the engine's muffled buzz, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, I'm sure that's the only reason you like me back here."

"I didn't say that," he replied quickly, his eyes dancing with amusement as he pushed the aircraft closer to the IL-76.

"But, well, it helps."

"Uh-huh..." she shot back, but there was no hiding the lightness in her voice.

"You've always got an excuse for everything, don't you, Zaytsev? But I won't judge you for that. Keep your mind in the skies. We've got work to do."

He laughed, nodding as the seriousness of their mission settled back into his mind.
"You're right, of course. We’ve got a lot to keep an eye on down there." Konstantin glanced at the GPS navigator in front of him,

"Mostka is a powder keg right now, and we've got to make sure that fire doesn't spread."

"I'll be ready."

---

Mostka Airbase, Scandoslavia.
As the IL-76 began to unfold its landing gear, Konstantin Zaytsev’s focus shifted. The transition from high-speed flight to the delicate maneuvering needed for a safe landing wasn’t one he took lightly, but after countless hours in the cockpit, he knew exactly what to expect. He flicked a few switches and adjusted the throttles, syncing his descent to match the transport's approach.

"Gear down," Konstantin muttered to himself as the EF-410M-3 mirrored the IL-76's action. The landing gear mechanism was solid, a robust design from its ancestor, the Me-410, and it where it was derived from.

The EF-410's gear extended with a smooth, deliberate motion as the servoes whirred, its twin-wheel rear and dual-strut front gears locking into place with a reassuring clunk as the aircraft prepared for landing. A smirk tugged at his lips at the sound, music to his ears.

"Got your six, Konstantin," Larissa's voice broke through his thoughts, but there was a hint of annoyance in her tone. He could almost picture her grimace as she leaned forward in her seat, back to back with his station, her eyes scanning the distant horizon below.

It wasn’t long before he felt the first tremor—small arms fire pinging off the armored underbelly of the EF-410M-3. The impact was muffled, soft thumps and clanks like being pelted with rocks, but unmistakable, and Konstantin instinctively adjusted their trajectory, a subtle banking motion to throw off the insurgents' aim.

From the rear, Larissa cursed under her breath, her frustration clear even over the intercom.

"Those motherfuckers. they're not wasting any time,"

Her hands worked gracefully over controls to bring the two remotely mounted DShK machine guns to life, gripping the firing console. The servo actuators hummed to life as the heavy guns shifted into position, with their targeting linked directly to the underbelly's infrared camera. She scowled at the console, her fingers tapping quickly at the controls, lining the DShKs up with the insurgents taking potshots at them from below.

Konstantin tightened his grip on the controls, eyes flicking to the altitude readout as they neared the airbase.

"Easy there, Larissa," he said, his voice steady despite the tension.

"We've got our orders—hold fire until we're in contact with Scandoslavian People's Guard and Air Force units. We can't go rogue just yet."

"I know, I know," she hissed back, growling, the soft click of her knuckles flexing against the firing console audible through the comms as she continued to line up the crosshairs periodically.

"But these fuckers are wasting no time... It's like they know we're here already." Her eyes remained fixed on the infrared display, watching as the SIM insurgents scurried around below like ants, trying to hit a moving target in a world that didn't care for their insurgency.

Konstantin's lips twitched in a barely-there smile.

"Temper, temper... Larissa" he said, his voice half-amused, half-serious.

"We've got the upper hand. Let's not give them the satisfaction of knowing we're even a threat until we're down on the ground. Plus, we're not even the main attraction..."

Larissa didn't answer immediately, her teeth gritting as she made small adjustments to her controls, the remote-mounted DShKs following her guidance but staying in standby mode, weapons ready but unengaged, her finger slowly parting the button cover over the small red button that would actuate the solenoid firing pins.

"Fine," she grumbled,

"But I'm keeping these guns trained on them. If I see one more idiot take a shot at us, swear I'll fucking personally gut one of those—"

"You'll hold fire. Let the Scandoslavian People's Guard and their Air Force handle it once we’re on the ground."

The landscape of Mostka stretched out beneath them, the city sprawling with a chaotic beauty. Konstantin could see the People’s Guard now—he recognized the scattered barricades and the dust rising from sporadic engagements. The city’s skyline, once serene, had now been turned into a battlefield.

"Alright, we're approaching final approach," Konstantin called out, breaking the momentary silence.

"Stay sharp. We're not down yet."

"Right... got it." Larissa muttered, her fingers dancing over the controls once more as the heavy guns settled, the DShKs keeping steady on their targets.

"Just... let's get these bastards out of here, Zaytsev."

The other EF-410M-3s flew in tight formation with theirs, their mission clear. Below, the IL-76 was already in the final stages of its descent. The landing gear of the transport was visible, and soon, the peaceful chaos of Mostka’s troubled skies would give way to the violent peace they would try to impose.

As the EF-410M-3's engines growled and the landing gear extended in preparation for their own descent, Konstantin flicked the comm switch, his voice carrying both command and a sense of the inevitable. "Hold tight, Larissa. We're not just peacekeepers today. We're their last hope."

[The Scandoslavic Empire]

Mostka Airbase | Mostka Oblast, Scandoslavia

---

The Mostka Airbase was in shambles, with stationed troops and People's Guard members frantically scrambling to prepare for the influx of foreigners. BTA agents clad in military-grade armor roamed about the base, ensuring no breach of security occurred. At the center of it all, Command Supervisor Vyachelev Chelsovik. The former People's Guard Commander had taken the Mostka Airbase position less than three years ago, and never expected that anything of this scale would ever happen. But that's how life is. Command Supervisor Chelsovik stood in the ATC tower of the Mostka Airbase, and watched as several aircraft approached. That's my cue, he thought to himself, before heading down to the side of the northernmost runway. He watched intently as the C-5Ms touched down and rolled to a stop, observing the large planes. Accompanying him were two BTA agents, both wearing protective armor - while Chelsovik himself wore a heavy winter trenchcoat and a blue-grey peaked cap.
Before he could talk to the Lieutenant Commander that was supposed to arrive, one of the BTA agents pointed to the sky and shouted "Get down!", to which the Command Supervisor immediately reacted to, going prone and covering his head. In a split second, he heard an explosion, and watched as a Leitzmarkic helicopter spun out of control and slammed into one of the landing pads. He stood up, shaken slightly. SIM insurgents had gotten their hands on MANPADs and had been firing them off all day - they had already lost two TH17s of their own.

(OOC: I'll get around to responding to you next, SRoM. That's a long post!)

[The Kaisers Syndicates]

Operation:Peacekeeper
LOCATION:Mostka
Radio:Ace of Base - Happy Nation

In the skies of Mostka, Blackhawks can be seen flying through the air. The first wave of Kaiserin Peacekeeping forces has arrived as the helicopter lands at the airport. Men begin to get out, armed with M4s, AK74s, and even some MP5s, prepared to do all they can to help their new GSO ally. Their commander, Staff-Captain Reginald, reaches for his radio and calls out. "This is Tango Kilo Serria Zero One. Can anyone read me? Out."

The radio crackles back

"Heard you loud and clear, Staff-Captain. Out." Reginald nods his head at the radio before telling his men to hold so he could be briefed on the situation. He walks up to the current Scandoslavic commander to talk to him: "Staff-Captain Jaimie Reginald Kaisers Syndicates. What's the situation here?""

[The Scandoslavic Empire]

Mostka Airbase | Mostka Oblast, Scandoslavia

As the Stratusian EF-410M headed for an open runway, People's Guard 2125As rumbled across the streets of Mostka, trying to pick off SIM insurgents that were targeting the incoming plane. They couldn't stop more from coming, but the least they could do was try to fortify the outskirts of the base and prevent the SIM militants from firing upon every aircraft they could see.

On the easternmost runway, four Zlieva Lumetelskaya Erityiyostiyas began to take off - specialized anti-runway bombs were repurposed, and if need be, would be dropped on important roads to severe insurgent connections. But hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

Operation:Peacekeeper
LOCATION:Mostka
Radio:Ace of Base - Happy Nation

In the skies of Mostka, Blackhawks can be seen flying through the air. The first wave of Kaiserin Peacekeeping forces has arrived as the helicopter lands at the airport. Men begin to get out, armed with M4s, AK74s, and even some MP5s, prepared to do all they can to help their new GSO ally. Their commander, Staff-Captain Reginald, reaches for his radio and calls out. "This is Tango Kilo Serria Zero One. Can anyone read me? Out."

The radio crackles back

"Heard you loud and clear, Staff-Captain. Out." Reginald nods his head at the radio before telling his men to hold so he could be briefed on the situation. He walks up to the current Scandoslavic commander to talk to him: "Staff-Captain Jaimie Reginald Kaisers Syndicates. What's the situation here?""

Command Supervisor Chelsovik spun around, surprised that the Kaiserin helicopter had gotten through without any trouble. He hid his shock and calmly spoke to the Staff-Captain. "Insurgents around the base have been assaulting aircraft, and there's no word from inner Mostka. We're in the dark about the ongoing events within the city itself." he said, grimly.

[Nation M]

The Disabled Jet

Having orbited around the aerodrome the first C5-M vectored to intercept the inbound coarse at the Air Bases primary runway. It's heavy loads kicking up smoke as it's massive tires made contact with the asphalt, which was grooved long and wide, testament to ScandoSlavic's modern and up to date infrastructure. Turning off the first taxiway they followed the marshallers to the remote stand where a welcome party exited a terminal. As the pilots were preparing to shut their engines they observed the officers ducking for cover. Keeping their engines running they radioed the control tower.

"Federation Support 1, advise if we're clear to shut down our engines...standing-by". Scanning the exterior they saw a series of explosions, and the downing of a military helicopter. In the rear the peacekeeping corpse of armed soldiers clutched their weapons tightly, trying to look out the small windows of the exit doors. At the upper deck the Lt. Commander froze, eyes fixed upon the pilots, trying to get word if the BTA has cleared the area of hostiles. "We're losing fuel...uh...it's possible we've been hit by bullets", it was the engineer, tapping the fuel gages confirming the reality. "We're not going anywhere...".

The Lt. Commander adjusts the cuffs on his pristine white Naval dress uniform and clears his throat "well boys, what'd you say we exit this tube" he signals to two soldiers that unlatch the primary exit door. The sounds of the arriving Stratusian IL-76 are heard making their way toward the field. The first soldiers to exit the aircraft looked toward the BTA Agents for signs of safety before the Commander would greet the Command Supervisor. Roughly 5 miles out the remaining jets, queuing to land after the IL-76.

[Socalist Republic Of Mercenaries]

Mostka Airbase
The EF-410M-3 settled onto the airstrip with a satisfying thud, the landing gear absorbing the impact with ease. Konstantin eased the throttle back, letting the aircraft roll forward as the engines whined down to a steady hum. Beside him, Larissa stretched, shaking off the stiffness from the flight, though her sharp eyes never left the chaotic skyline beyond the airbase perimeter.

"Textbook landing," Konstantin said with a grin, flipping switches to power down the engines.

"Not that I expected anything less from us, heh."

Larissa Nikolaev rolled her eyes but smirked.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just hope the welcoming committee isn't armed to the teeth, okay?"

With the engines winding down, the tandem canopy hissed as the pressurized seal released. Konstantin pushed it open, letting the cold air of the Scandoslavic winter rush into the cockpit. The pair climbed out, their boots hitting the tarmac with a metallic thud.

The imposing IL-76 loomed nearby, its engines still rumbling as troops and vehicles rolled out of its cavernous belly. Among them was the operational commander, Nikita Popovich, a tall man with sharp features and a presence that immediately commanded attention. He strode toward Konstantin and Larissa, his dark greatcoat flapping in the breeze.

"Pilots," Popovich greeted, his voice clipped and authoritative. He reached into his coat and pulled out two Stechkin APS pistols, handing one to each of them.

"These are now yours. Keep them close. We don't know how bold these SIM bastards are, and they might try something stupid like storming the airstrip."

Popovich glanced toward the cluster of barricades at the airstrip's perimeter, pointing a finger.

"The Scandoslavs have some forward positions, but they're stretched thin. I need you two to stay vigilant here while I coordinate with their commanders and get standing orders. If the SIM sends any infiltrators, they’ll be after the aircraft or the staging area. Don't let them through."

Without waiting for a response, Popovich turned on his heel and strode toward a group of Scandoslavic officers who had gathered near a makeshift command post. The chill in the air seemed to deepen as the tension settled over the airbase.

Konstantin and Larissa grumbled quietly and trudged across the tarmac towards the Stratusian infantry contingent, their boots crunching over the frost-rimmed surface. The rumble of an approaching vehicle drew their attention, and they turned to see the Kolesnitsa "War Wagon" roll into view. The improvised fighting vehicle was an unmistakable sight—massive, loud, and unapologetically brutal in its design.

The GlasMASH GScLKWF 7930 chassis groaned slightly under the weight of its 40-foot ISO container, now an armored mobile fortress. The container's slapdash exterior bore salvaged steel sheets, weathered slat armor, and mismatched wooden plating. A prominent board plastered with “FREE WIFI” in Cyrillic and English lent a surreal touch to the otherwise menacing machine. From the roof, the booming strains of Akim Apachev's song Russkii khuligan blasted from four corner-mounted boomboxes, lending the scene an almost theatrical air.

"Subtle," Konstantin quipped, raising his voice over the music.

Larissa smirked. "It's got personality. Like a steel horseless Tachanka with a grudge."

As they neared, one of the infantrymen perched on the Kolesnitsa's roof caught sight of Larissa. He gave a mischievous grin and casually tossed something toward her. She caught it mid-air, her reflexes honed by years in the cockpit.

It was an AK-104, its black polymer and stamped metal body gleaming in the dim winter light. The rifle was equipped with an AimPoint Comp M2 MOA sight and a Zenitco RK-5 foregrip for added stability. Larissa inspected it briefly, cycling the bolt and nodding in approval.

"On the house," the infantryman called down with a smirk.

"Now this is customer service."

Konstantin raised an eyebrow. "Seems you're popular today."

Larissa shrugged, smirking slightly and slinging the rifle over her shoulder. "What can I say? People love me."

With that, the pair joined the infantry’s defensive line, the booming music and rumble of the Kolesnitsa serving as both a battle cry and a warning to any who dared challenge the Stratusian contingency forces.

[The Scandoslavic Empire]

Perimeter Crisis Command Post, Mostka Airbase

---

Away from the taxiways and runways, and much closer to the entrance of the Airbase, was a lone perimeter control outpost surrounded by small vehicles and troops. People's Guard infantrymen wearing various levels of armor, ranging from their ceremonial base gear to full assault gear. Under a drab grey-blue tent covered in a light drift of snow, a group of Турваллисуусофицер, or Security Officers, stood around an old record player. They had hooked it up to a generator trailer that was also powering a few bright floodlights, adding an eerie glow to the area that was accompanied by the light hiss of the vinyl and the sounds of the song itself.

A clearly exhausted man stood out among the Security Officers, leaning against a Zlieva Ustanovka that made up the back 'wall' of the tent. He wore a bland white and black wool greatcoat, adorned with silver buttons and a small badge bearing the emblem of the Scandoslavic Air Force. He had a cigarette lit, and was staring off towards the front gate of the Airbase. The two large wrought iron gate segments that once formed the front entrance to the Airbase were bent out of shape, with one half ripped partially off, leaving it hanging and misshapen. Across the front, someone had tacked a large sheet over the gate, and spray-painted the words "Death to the SPRP!" all over it. The tattered edges of the sheet billowed in the wind, just meters away from the warped flagpole that once stood proudly in front of the Airbase. The Scandoslavic flag that hung from the pole had been brought down and set ablaze by the insurgents earlier that day, and now all that remained was torn, burnt fabric. While he observed his surroundings, the man sighed. His country was being torn apart from the inside, and he was relegated to watching over the battered gate of an Airbase. But as he was lost in thought, one of the Security Officers tapped him on the shoulder and pointed out the Stratusian who had been making his way over to the outpost.

"Security Commander Alkolov," the Security Officer said quietly.

"The Stratusian operational Commander has arrived." he finished.

The Security Commander turned to look, and nodded. "Eviet. I am Security Commander Alkolov, and this - this is the Mostka Airbase. Or at least, what's left of the place."

[Socalist Republic Of Mercenaries]

The Security Commander turned to look, and nodded. "Eviet. I am Security Commander Alkolov, and this - this is the Mostka Airbase. Or at least, what's left of the place."

"Napoleon is a torrent — but Moscow is the sponge that will soak him up."

— Mikhail Kutuzov of Smolensk

---

Mostka Airbase, Scandoslavia
Nikita Popovich stood at the edge of the outpost, his boots crunching softly against the thin layer of snow that covered the dirt path. The eerie glow of the floodlights cast long shadows across the scene, and the crackling hiss of the vinyl on the record player was oddly comforting amidst the tension. Lev Leshchenko’s My s toboy za etot gorod otvechayem hung in the air, providing a somber soundtrack to the crumbling remnants of the base. His own weighted gray-blue overcoat worn over his kevlar curiass and uniform with his eight-inch Artillery Luger tucked inside a familiar comfort in the bleakness of the landscape.

He could see the figure leaning against the Zlieva Ustanovka—an exhausted man whose uniform, though still intact, looked as worn as the base itself. The damage to the Airbase's perimeter was a physical representation of the growing chaos.

Nikita shook his head, brushing off any personal sentiment as he adjusted the heavy weight of his coat, the pistol tucked away shifting slightly as he did, making his way towards the group.

As he reached the entrance to the tent, he noticed the Security Officers standing in a loose circle, gathered around the record player. The faint smell of burning wood mixed with the sharp scent of cold metal, and he had a momentary flash of distaste for the fragility of it all.

He halted before the man in the greatcoat. His posture was firm, shoulders squared. He was used to the cold now—both the literal chill of the snow and the bitter cold of war as it slowly set in.

Nikita cleared his throat and, without preamble, introduced himself.

"Nikita Popovich, I am the Stratusian operational commander in control of the peacekeeping force. I'm here to ensure coordination between our forces and yours."

He paused momentarily, looking at the vandalized gate with phrase "Death to the SPRP!" all over it, sighing softly.

"I've been given responsibility for the perimeter defense, but I need a full understanding of the current situation. What are the standing orders I should relay back to my complement?"

His voice held the calmness of someone who had seen too many battles, but also the quiet command of a man who had not yet lost his will to fight.

[The Scandoslavic Empire]

snipping your post

Perimeter Crisis Command Post, Mostka Airbase

Alkolov spoke with authority, but he didn't attempt to hide his immense frustration with the situation.

"I'm sorry about the rather degraded state of the capital... it's usually not like this, of course."

He took a moment to look out at some of the vehicles stationed around the Airbase, considering possibilities for deployment.

"As for standing orders, the best thing to do as of right now is to build off of the current crisis control plan. Perimeter control groups need assistance, and we've got no word from the inner city. We need to get closer to the crisis zones, but securing the area around the Airbase is the first step. As you probably could tell, the SIM did a Hell of a number on our front gate. Rammed an articulated bus through it - which we're now using as a blockade on the road just outside. Additionally, several patrol groups have reported seeing an Ustanovka in the streets. We suspect that the SIM hijacked it from one of the People's Guard detachments that were ambushed. It's assumed that they're hiding it somewhere near the airbase, using a combination of the Ustanovka and MANPADs to take down incoming aircraft. We're almost entirely in the dark about anything beyond the Airbase perimeter. One of our SVP-2s went out on aerial reconnaissance, and radioed back some vague info regarding some sort of commotion on the Mostkavna Embankment, but we lost radio contact shortly afterwards. We're assuming they were brought down by SIM forces. If you want to dispatch a patrol, we should combine units. Despite the chaos, we still have a decent amount of People's Guard vehicles stationed here for use. We've obviously got the Ustanovka behind me, but she's a bit preoccupied with serving as a mobile command base at the moment. There's a good few dozen 2125As lying around, and if you need heavy fire support, we've got just the thing. There's a 220A that came in for emergency repairs, and two Obsineva 162s from the other side of the city that managed to get separated from their detachment. We recently acquired four TAV-30Cs for perimeter control, which in hindsight was a good choice. That's the brunt of our forces, and we've got remnants from various infantry regiments of the People's Guard as well."

[The Kaisers Syndicates]

Command Supervisor Chelsovik spun around, surprised that the Kaiserin helicopter had gotten through without any trouble. He hid his shock and calmly spoke to the Staff-Captain. "Insurgents around the base have been assaulting aircraft, and there's no word from inner Mostka. We're in the dark about the ongoing events within the city itself." he said, grimly.

Reginald nodded, reaching for his walkie-talkie again."This is Tango Kilo Serria Zero One to Kilo Serria Alpha Hotel. I just got some news that these insurgents have MANPADS over." 

The radio crackles back

"Kilo Serria Alpha Hotel here. We got your message, sir. Putting on flares now. Over."

Reginald answers back. "We also need some eyes in the sky to get Foxtrot twenty-two ready for an air sweep over."

The radio finally crackles back. "Got it, sir. They'll be up in 15 minutes with our next supply drop. Over."

Reginald finally says, "Alright, got it out," and turns his radio back off. Turning back to the Scandoslavic commander, he says, "I'll have some eyes in the sky in an ETA of 15 minutes; it should help with finding our attackers positions."

[Socalist Republic Of Mercenaries]

Mostka, Scandoslavia
Konstantin and Larissa had just finished performing pre-flight checks on their EF-410M-3, the hum of the engines echoing across the frozen tarmac. The dim, yellow floodlights cast sharp shadows on the fuselage as the cold night air bit at their faces. Despite the tense atmosphere, they had grown accustomed to the routine of flying combat missions. But this time, something felt different.

As Konstantin finished his final inspection, he climbed into the cockpit, followed closely by Larissa. She adjusted the straps of her harness and checked the feed from the IR camera, her eyes flicking over the controls. Just as Konstantin began running the engine startup sequence, the radio crackled to life, interrupting their thoughts.

"EF-410M-3, this is Nikita Popovich," came the voice, steady but filled with the tension of the situation.

"Hold your position, don't take off just yet."

"Ah, was ist los??"

"Do not pull onto the runway. The area is still too hot—SIM anti-air activity is too concentrated around the perimeter. The Scandoslavs lost a recon craft earlier, and I'm not about to add you to the count. Change of plans. I need you and Larissa to join the infantry on the Kolesnitsa. They're setting up near the perimeter. We'll regroup and secure the airfield before anything takes off."

Konstantin frowned, exchanging a glance with Larissa, who shrugged slightly before returning her gaze to the darkened airstrip ahead.

"Understood," Konstantin replied, his tone clipped but resigned.

"We'll make our way over then."

"I guess we're walking," Larissa sighed under her breath.

"Yeah," Konstantin said, his voice laced with annoyance but tempered by practicality.

"Better safe than sorry. though..."

After a brief pause, they unstrapped themselves from the cockpit and crawled out of the pressurized tandem canopy, the cold night air hitting them immediately as they made their way toward the ground. They started toward the Kolesnitsa, their boots crunching on the snow as they moved.

The Kolesnitsa sat in the distance, its silhouette illuminated by the faint glow of scattered floodlights. As they approached the dingy container serving as a makeshift fighting compartment, Konstantin could already hear the muffled sounds of conversation and the occasional clink of metal against metal. He climbed up and into the container, followed closely by Larissa.

Inside, the space was dimly lit by a few hanging bulbs that flickered intermittently. The floor was littered with spent shell casings and crushed aluminum cans, a testament to the soldiers' long hours stationed here. A handful of beanbags were scattered about, providing the only semblance of comfort in the stark environment.

One of the infantryman, clad in Ratnik gear, looked up from his position near a crate and gave them a nod. He handed Konstantin a can of Stratusian lager without a word and then turned to a weapons rack, retrieving an AK-103. The rifle's matte finish glinted faintly as he held it out.

"For you," the soldier said simply, his voice muffled slightly by his helmet, his smile creasing the worn fabric of the balaclava he wore.

Konstantin accepted the rifle with a curt nod, glancing briefly at Larissa, who already had an AK-104 slung across her shoulder. She gave him a faint smirk, the faintest hint of her usual dry humor breaking through the tension.

"Guess we're properly outfitted now," she giggled.

Moments later, the door to the container creaked open, and Nikita stepped in, his coat dusted with snow. He glanced around briefly before making his way toward the pair, nodding in acknowledgment. His expression was serious but measured.

"Good to see you both here," Nikita began. He leaned against a crate, his voice low but commanding.

"Here's the situation. The standing orders are to comb the airfield and secure the perimeter. SIM has been using whatever they can get their hands on, including hijacked Ustanovkas and MANPADs. The priority is to neutralize any threats still lurking nearby, especially anything that could take down incoming reinforcements or evac. We'll move out in combined units. Infantry will cover ground, and the vehicles will provide heavy support."

He paused, scanning their faces for any sign of hesitation before continuing.

"The airfield's a mess, but it's our foothold in this region like Khmeimim for the Russians. If we lose it, the whole operation falls apart. Be ready for anything."

Konstantin gave a sharp nod, adjusting the strap of his rifle as Larissa checked her ammunition. The faint hum of the floodlights outside mingled with the distant sounds of sporadic gunfire, a reminder of the battle still raging just beyond their makeshift haven.

"Jawohl, Herr Komendant." Konstantin replied.

"We'll do our part."

[The Way Sun Cooperation]

Private contract, Inbound to Mostka Airbase

---

---

As crisis sprung out across Mostka the capital of the Scandoslavic Empire , many of the cooperates elites and politicians sat back satisfied to simply observe the situation as it developed in a nation they had little concern for. This was until Nation M a fierce cooperate ally chose to intervene, with the official government policy being not to intervene and the general public having no interests in what they would consider a backwater far from the glitz of Deonec and their wallets. But to members of the Central Intelligence Directorate and Devlon holdings saw a lucrative opportunity both to support their ally within Nation M and to gain intelligence alongside the profit which ussually motivated Nation M's plans..

Soon after a secretive midnight meeting, a contract was quickly drafted and sent to the Politika Arms Groups headquarters in Deonec. Back by the CID and unofficially by the Way Sun Cooperation's government. A detachment of some of the groups best would be loaded onto plains and sent towards Mostka and trouble...

Inside the transport planes main compartment it was a mess of crates with trucks loaded with equipment so the group could quickly unload and begin there mission, the aircraft was worn out, dirt lurked in every crevice. Having several patched bullet holes in the wall it did little to satisfy the fear of some of the newer troops. But to the veterans this was simply a sign the pilot knew what they were doing, if they can survive a few shots and get back its better than being one of the aircraft which failed to return. A few troops gathered in a corner sitting atop crates as the plane rocked through the night sky discussing what had forced them to disembark so quickly from there barracks within the cooperation. "Well standard issue shit, we are woken at the crack of dawn ordered to set up for intervention and we still don't get to know who hired us" a disgruntled man said his rough appearance was only reinforced by his weeks worth of stubble, his name tag revealed his name, Corporal Hammond. "After all we are the ones risking our lives in... where is it Mos-ka?" he made hand gestures towards his squad mates preparing to speak again, a sharp cough could be heard.

A set of men in the grey uniform of the CID had walked over, the one in the centre wearing a long winter coat began to speak. "Sorry Gentlemen, but you should get ready and start doing your jobs. Unless you are to busy warming your crates up while on company time" this smooth voice seemed to be oddly intimating when paired with the CID reputation. The squad quickly moved away leaving the Corporal. "Mr. Hammond its not your concern to ask question. Your jobs to complete your contract and get the job done, so prepare your troops and stop with the conspiracy theories. And get your damn job done and collect the cheque" he quickly walked away accompanied by his entourage. Leaving the corporal annoyed, alone and extremely pissed off. "Who were they to give him flak for simple questions they weren't the one paying him" he began to grumble until a shout came across the speaker. "Gentlemen, it is time for you to prepare for our arrival at Mostka Airbase" after a pause he added onto it "Thank you for choosing Banshe airway, and remember my jobs to get the plane back not you" this line got a collection of moans and laughs from the cargo bay as soldiers packed.

The plane soon began to descend towards Mostka Airbase, preparing to make contacts with Nation M and the Scandoslavic Empires officers....

[Nation M]

Private contract, Inbound to Mostka Airbase

---

---

As crisis sprung out across Mostka the capital of the Scandoslavic Empire , many of the cooperates elites and politicians sat back satisfied to simply observe the situation as it developed in a nation they had little concern for. This was until Nation M a fierce cooperate ally chose to intervene, with the official government policy being not to intervene and the general public having no interests in what they would consider a backwater far from the glitz of Deonec and their wallets. But to members of the Central Intelligence Directorate and Devlon holdings saw a lucrative opportunity both to support their ally within Nation M and to gain intelligence alongside the profit which ussually motivated Nation M's plans..

Soon after a secretive midnight meeting, a contract was quickly drafted and sent to the Politika Arms Groups headquarters in Deonec. Back by the CID and unofficially by the Way Sun Cooperation's government. A detachment of some of the groups best would be loaded onto plains and sent towards Mostka and trouble...

Inside the transport planes main compartment it was a mess of crates with trucks loaded with equipment so the group could quickly unload and begin there mission, the aircraft was worn out, dirt lurked in every crevice. Having several patched bullet holes in the wall it did little to satisfy the fear of some of the newer troops. But to the veterans this was simply a sign the pilot knew what they were doing, if they can survive a few shots and get back its better than being one of the aircraft which failed to return. A few troops gathered in a corner sitting atop crates as the plane rocked through the night sky discussing what had forced them to disembark so quickly from there barracks within the cooperation. "Well standard issue shit, we are woken at the crack of dawn ordered to set up for intervention and we still don't get to know who hired us" a disgruntled man said his rough appearance was only reinforced by his weeks worth of stubble, his name tag revealed his name, Corporal Hammond. "After all we are the ones risking our lives in... where is it Mos-ka?" he made hand gestures towards his squad mates preparing to speak again, a sharp cough could be heard.

A set of men in the grey uniform of the CID had walked over, the one in the centre wearing a long winter coat began to speak. "Sorry Gentlemen, but you should get ready and start doing your jobs. Unless you are to busy warming your crates up while on company time" this smooth voice seemed to be oddly intimating when paired with the CID reputation. The squad quickly moved away leaving the Corporal. "Mr. Hammond its not your concern to ask question. Your jobs to complete your contract and get the job done, so prepare your troops and stop with the conspiracy theories. And get your damn job done and collect the cheque" he quickly walked away accompanied by his entourage. Leaving the corporal annoyed, alone and extremely pissed off. "Who were they to give him flak for simple questions they weren't the one paying him" he began to grumble until a shout came across the speaker. "Gentlemen, it is time for you to prepare for our arrival at Mostka Airbase" after a pause he added onto it "Thank you for choosing Banshe airway, and remember my jobs to get the plane back not you" this line got a collection of moans and laughs from the cargo bay as soldiers packed.

The plane soon began to descend towards Mostka Airbase, preparing to make contacts with Nation M and the Scandoslavic Empires officers....

"Commander...", a young medic hands him a phone patching a line with inbound CID. Downloading of the equipment had been done hastily, for the looming threat of another attack lye in wait. Though reading the faces on the Scandoslavs, there didn't seem to be much concern.

The Kaisers Syndicates had arrived unscathed, as have the Stratusians which seemed to be a step ahead in mobilizing their forces. "Be advised hostiles in the area have been using manned portable air-defenses, they've already downed a rotor...not ours...we're going to secure the Air Base - see if we could reinforce the area and set up primary checkpoints along the main entryways...we'll see you soon".

"Lieutenant Commander Atrius Rex at your service Sir" he salutes Command Supervisor Vyachelev Chelsovi and motions for his men to speed up their efforts. "For a moment there we thought we'd lose the first objective before having set foot on solid ground. Where do you need us the most as of now?". His head turning subtly to either direction taking in the layout of the field "secure the aerodrome first and foremost and establish a patrol route, possible checkpoints...that's what we'd be looking at now".

[War Command]

OPERATION TORCHWOOD

Outskirt of the capital city Mostka. An inhabited area.
Some 50km away from the city center. 0200H.

They arrived secretly and swiftly in the dead of night. Several waves of tactical utility transport aircraft delivering the Quick Reaction Force into Scandoslavia. The first few light planes carried the light infantry elements and their equipment, it performed a short landing on the open and the first wave of WARCOM operators Commanded by Major Izrael, and his almost 180 strong unit disembarked. They took over several hectares of open field not too far, not too close to the capital city - with distance just about right - and turned it into a makeshift forward operating base for the PMC. Upon arriving they camouflaged their positions; hide their assets put out sentries and patrol. UAV patrol overhead to ensure no one came close within light weapons range. A special engineering team quickly establish a tactical runway, reinforcing them with ground matting so the slightly heavier plane can safely land. Next came their vehicles; 14 infantry fighting vehicle; and their other materials. Weapons. Ammunitions. Medical. MRE Rations. And portable showers and loo. Let us not forget the portable showers and loo.

Their Scandoslavia liaison officer came into the WARCOM perimeters.

Major Izrael Nakano: Sir. I am the Commanding Officer for WARCOM battlegroup in this Operation. Like what we done to this real estate? Thank you for having us."

Scandoslavic Liaison: "You know, Major, you and your people can just come in from Mostka Airbase or Mostka International Airport you know. It's still... safe."

Major Izrael Nakano: I know, but figured it's too crowded for now with all the other mercenaries coming into that same area - plus we don't know who's who yet in this fight. The enemies might be watching those sites and with too many personnel, that's just a good target rich environment. Better safe than sorry. So, what do you have for us? What's the SITREP in the capital for now?"

Scandoslavic Liaison: [[insert reply]]

[The Scandoslavic Empire]

Mostka Airbase, Scandoslavia

---

Alkolov trudged slowly alongside the war-torn Obsineva 162, crushing the frosted ground beneath him. Despite its immense size, the 162 seemed to glide lightly across the pathway, its six tracks leaving imprints in the snow. Alongside him, a group of twenty People's Guard troops, and two clearly overworked Voynakone 2125As. The twin war machines glistened in the otherwise dull moonlight, led by the lone Obsineva 162, as they headed towards the location of the Kolesnitsa and the container being used by the Stratusians. Alkolov motioned for the group to stop when they neared the crate, and he wandered over to Nikita with his hands tucked into his coat.

"Joint patrol units from the People's Guard are ready to be deployed. When you're ready, we are." he said, pointing behind himself to the group of vehicles and infantrymen.

"The 2125As are a bit on the rough side, and so is the 162, but they should work fine for now. We don't have time to give them full repairs, and these are the most expendable vehicles we have at the moment - except for the 162 - it's rather important." Alkolov finished, keeping his statements rather short and to the point.

snip

Chelsovik sighed and turned around, looking out at the Airbase for a moment.

"I'd recommend talking to the Security Commander, Alkolov, near the perimeter outpost. But otherwise, you've guessed quite accurately what our plan of action is for now - control the perimeter, and push onwards into the city through a series of coordinated flanks." he said, a bit upset at the fact that the Lt Commander had answered his own question.

Major Izrael Nakano: I know, but figured it's too crowded for now with all the other mercenaries coming into that same area - plus we don't know who's who yet in this fight. The enemies might be watching those sites and with too many personnel, that's just a good target rich environment. Better safe than sorry. So, what do you have for us? What's the SITREP in the capital for now?"

Scandoslavic Liaison: [[insert reply]]

(Lil OOC Note: If you haven't noticed by now, I try to match formatting to other users. So for you I'll be using that format, with SRoM I use a variant of their style, et cetera.)

Scandoslavic Liaison: Well, quite honestly, we don't know what the situation in the capital is right now. The BTA can't get any sort of communications out, and the SIM is suspected to have downed most of the radio towers in the inner city by now. We do know that People's Council members are being defended by only a small amount of People's Guard members - who undoubtedly are running out of supplies. The SIM has been confirmed to be using MANPADs, which really isn't too bad. It's the fact that they've also stolen several Ustanovkas, so air support has gone - quite frankly - straight down the damn drain. It's not like we're going to get around them, either. Unless we can flank them from the side roads and work our way inwards, cleansing by the city blocks, we're not getting into Mostka itself. And this Intel is solely from the outlying Airbase - because like I said, we've got no connection to the inner city,

[Leitzmark]

Voragoda
The Bulk of the Leitzmarkic peacekeeping force has arrived by boat, 140 soldiers and three light tanks, as well as some 3rd generation Werpin U3s (Literally civilian cars). A journey all the way to Mostka would be risky, but possible.

Troops set sail at 14:00 at noon, hoping to reach the bridge at 18:00, where they would create a temporary outpost to reach out to Mostka Airbase, as well as the Leitzmarkic government itself, awaiting more orders.

Mostka Airbase
The few troops in the airbase under the command of Olåv are currently trying to join a larger force of troops led by another nation. Since most of them are snipers, these Leitzmarkic troops are possibly suitable for ambushes until the main force arrives.

(I will keep this short)

[Cerespasia]

(Note: this is supposed to happen earlier)

---

Arrival of CNMC Marines into Scandoslavia

Five CNAF C-5M cargo aitcraft attached to the 49th Air Mobility Wing, 12th Airlift Squadron out of Honecker NAFB, carrying the marines, equipment and rations of the 14th OEU descend from the clouds after a grueling 21 hour-long trip, slowly approaching Mostka Airbase as part of Operation Cold Resolve, the codename for the Cerespasian peacekeeping operation into Scandoslavia, undertaken by the National Marine Corps as well as a few elements of the National Air Force. Aboard the lead aircraft, 70238, the man at the center of this operation, Lieutenant Colonel Adam Gaines, sits in the crew compartment, gazing out the window of the immense cargo aircraft as it approaches the Scandoslavian landscape.

Overhearing the pilots pointing out that Mostka Airbase's control tower is now within view, LtC. Gaines takes a peek out at the front, and sure enough, Mostka Airbase is within view. The Scandoslavic air traffic controllers up the tower have certainly noticed the five immense Cerespasian descent, as within less than a minute, the pilots and air traffic control exchange information, culminating in the go-ahead to land onto one of the airbase's aprons.

Once landed, LtC. Gaines' marines spare no time getting all of their heavy vehicles out of the gargantuan aircraft, while he sends his second-in-command, a Captain Hutter, out to inform the "one in command of this base" of their arrival.

Neither LtC. Gaines nor the marines sent out to Scandoslavia that day will be catching proper sleep the following night, for there was a lot to be done, and this is just day one of it all.

[The Kaisers Syndicates]

Reginald's radio crackles to life.

"This is Tango Kilo Serria Zero Two calling Tango Kilo Serria Zero One. Come in, Zero One. Over." He quickly reaches for his radio and answers back.

"This is Zero One. Go for it. Over," his radio crackling back in response. "We've got sight of some hostiles to the south of the air base. Shi- [Missile Lock] deploy flares! Jesus H. Christ, we're coming in. Foxtrot twenty-two is behind us. He's going to perform an air sweep looking for hostiles over."

Reginald responds as the helicopter lands. "Alright, I'll tune my radio out." As more men scramble out of the helicopters, he directs them to the southern area of the airfield to get a better sight of their attackers.

[War Command]

LIAISON OFFICER: "Well, quite honestly, we don't know what the situation in the capital is right now. The BTA can't get any sort of communications out, and the SIM is suspected to have downed most of the radio towers in the inner city by now. We do know that People's Council members are being defended by only a small amount of People's Guard members - who undoubtedly are running out of supplies. The SIM has been confirmed to be using MANPADs, which really isn't too bad. It's the fact that they've also stolen several Ustanovkas, so air support has gone - quite frankly - straight down the damn drain. It's not like we're going to get around them, either. Unless we can flank them from the side roads and work our way inwards, cleansing by the city blocks, we're not getting into Mostka itself. And this Intel is solely from the outlying Airbase - because like I said, we've got no connection to the inner city.

MAJOR IZRAEL: "So, basically, you've lost your capital City?" the WARCOM commander sighed. The fact that these insurrectionist turned rebels had gained access to Ustanovkas long range air defense system seems surely doesn't sound good thing. It's a good thing the Company staged their entrance quite a way from the capital.

"Sir, our Company space sensors is orbiting overhead in Low Earth Orbit, completing a pass every 30 minutes. I can share our intel with your HQ once we analyze them. In the mean time, I suggest your military HQ tighten up their ranks, and ensure no more leakage. If those Ustanovkas missiles can easily be captured by these SIM rebels, then what else might they they get a hand of?"

"Anything from the army side? I suppose you want us to go in and support your army?"

[The Scandoslavic Empire]

"Sir, our Company space sensors is orbiting overhead in Low Earth Orbit, completing a pass every 30 minutes. I can share our intel with your HQ once we analyze them. In the mean time, I suggest your military HQ tighten up their ranks, and ensure no more leakage. If those Ustanovkas missiles can easily be captured by these SIM rebels, then what else might they they get a hand of?"

"Anything from the army side? I suppose you want us to go in and support your army?"

LIAISON OFFICER: "Orbit? What the Hell? You have satellites going around, previously unannounced? You're damn lucky that Mostka is in such a crisis, or the People's Council would be having a fit. You'd better hope that thing doesn't get detected by any of our systems nationwide, or there won't be much left of it to report any intel. And yes, we're trying our витятовский hardest to make sure our equipment stays in the right hands. Additionally, it's not the missiles that are being captured alone. You said that... strangely. The vehicles themselves, the Ustanovka missile trucks, were stolen. They only got a hold of them because they were out on patrol and were ambushed. Otherwise they would've been under protection and secured, away from those traitorous idiots. As for the army, they're busy assembling a sizable force to assist Mostka's People's Guard.

Once landed, LtC. Gaines' marines spare no time getting all of their heavy vehicles out of the gargantuan aircraft, while he sends his second-in-command, a Captain Hutter, out to inform the "one in command of this base" of their arrival.

Neither LtC. Gaines nor the marines sent out to Scandoslavia that day will be catching proper sleep the following night, for there was a lot to be done, and this is just day one of it all.

Chelsovik, the Command Supervisor and overall overseer of the base, was sought out by the Cerespasian Captain. Chelsovik, previously in the ATC tower and now idly wandering the sprawling base, was busy checking in with another group of interventionists when the Captain approached him. He snapped briefly at the Captain for interrupting him, before realizing his allegiance and national alignment and quietly awaiting his statement.

[Cerespasia]

Once landed, LtC. Gaines' marines spare no time getting all of their heavy vehicles out of the gargantuan aircraft, while he sends his second-in-command, a Captain Hutter, out to inform the "one in command of this base" of their arrival.

Neither LtC. Gaines nor the marines sent out to Scandoslavia that day will be catching proper sleep the following night, for there was a lot to be done, and this is just day one of it all.

Chelsovik, the Command Supervisor and overall overseer of the base, was sought out by the Cerespasian Captain. Chelsovik, previously in the ATC tower and now idly wandering the sprawling base, was busy checking in with another group of interventionists when the Captain approached him. He snapped briefly at the Captain for interrupting him, before realizing his allegiance and national alignment and quietly awaiting his statement.

"Captain James Hutter, 14th OEU, Cerespasian National Marine Corps." The Marine Captain identifies himself to Chelsovik before continuing with "Sorry for interrupting you, the uhh...Lieutenant Colonel wanted to see you, so he um- sent me here to inform you of our arrival and have some exchange about y'know, the current situation, how we should be handling things, just to name a few. Now, may I lead you to the Lieutenant Colonel?" By now, the rest of the marines are midway in the process of unloading the vehicles and crate fulls of supplies and equipment they brought along with them on their journey on the other side of the airbase, unaware of what will transpire in the following hours.

[War Command]

"Orbit? What the Hell? You have satellites going around, previously unannounced? You're damn lucky that Mostka is in such a crisis, or the People's Council would be having a fit. You'd better hope that thing doesn't get detected by any of our systems nationwide, or there won't be much left of it to report any intel. And yes, we're trying our витятовский hardest to make sure our equipment stays in the right hands. Additionally, it's not the missiles that are being captured alone. You said that... strangely. The vehicles themselves, the Ustanovka missile trucks, were stolen. They only got a hold of them because they were out on patrol and were ambushed. Otherwise they would've been under protection and secured, away from those traitorous idiots. As for the army, they're busy assembling a sizable force to assist Mostka's People's Guard.

"Sir, calm down, all of our satellites are registered to the WA/UNOOSA as per the international space treaty. I am sure your high command can learn of our space based sensors rather easily. What's important now, is that we need to coordinate this properly, since I do not want to be shooting at your good guys and I do not want to be shot at by your own guys just because we are not in the loop. Now let us report to your commanding general and get us into the play as soon as possible. "

"In the meantime, I request an update on your city map."

---

---

The first satellite made a pass over the inner district of downtown Mostka long before the frst WARCOM planes made landfall, and continues to gather data through its various sensors even after the full force landed.

In general, WARCOM space intelligence apparatus utilises modern state of the art electro-optical, IR and Synthetic Aperture Radar sensors. However it is not without flaw, being stationed at Low Earth Orbit it only managed to capture images for the 10-15 minutes before it passed an area through to complete another round of rotation along its orbital path, but it was more than enough for the SAR high frequency radar to provide high resolution for analysts to convert into 2D or 3D image. Some of those satellites carried MASINT/ELINT kits to intercept radio spectrum in the lower atmosphere. Several earth observation satellites had been assigned for this particular operation alone, so coverage was not a problem. When there is a gap, Medium Earth Orbit sensors pick up the slack to maintain persistence 24/7 coverage.

Within 180 minutes, and several satellites pass, a complete picture of what lay ahead before the WARCOM battlegroup had been gathered. Also captured in the intelligence gathering are location of surrounding forces in their staging areas, and concentration of SIM forces in the inner city. All that data is marked to the WARCOM operators' battlefield management systems. Now all they had to do was to filter out and determine whether or not these were friendly forces, SIM rebels or non combatants civilians. Something that is conducted way back home in Aeyariss.

It also showed the damage already done by the earlier fighting between the People’s Guard and SIM rebels. Showing bodies in the streets. Burning fires.