Boliatur's Finest Hour

[Northern Cooperative Unions]

Water slowly waded in and out of Boliatur's shores, dawn approaching as the Sun slowly touched the horizon. The beaches were dotted with makeshift barricades and rarely pillboxes. The government of Boliatur had come to decision, as well as the people and military of Boliatur. The citizens either starved or ran, the army deserted or stayed to fight, and the government simply camped under a bunker in an undisclosed location.

The fate of Boliatur lies in the hands of navies, armies, and air forces that have mobilized. Where they come from, what they do, or who they attack is up to the aggressor. The Boliaturian Army is now a small force of approximately 30,000 men dotted at the beaches, with 120,000 partisan forces inland. Both are distinctly unarmed and unequipped. The Boliaturian Navy is a series of fishing barges armed with old cannons. The Air Force consists of 42 old planes, extremely flimsy fighters and inexperienced pilots patrolling the south coast of Boliatur.

The Boliaturians know relatively nothing about where the attackers will strike, how they will strike, or what they will strike with. Nor do they know who will strike them. What is certain is that the Boliaturians now fight for their homeland, desecrated by nearly two months of sanctions and no food, but simply assisted by friends to the south. Refugees have streamed into Karakhstan following war. Piles of bodies wade ashore daily from having been killed by starvation and tossed into the sea to prevent disease.


(I will go into character detail as things begin. For now, roleplay what you will with navies/what not and we'll figure a war moderator.)

 

[Rheinbund]

Bremen, Eiffelland

The "Flotteneinheit Boliatur" was ready to set sail to the seas around Boliatur. It was Eiffelland's contribution to the efforts of the international community to at least let the Boliaturian government take its threats against Royal Families back. A sea blockade would be enforced, and maybe the Eiffellandian Navy would contribute to the Engellexic and Danish war efforts. The Eiffellandians would not take part in a land invasion though. Solaren was enough.

The Boliaturian threat against Royal Families was reason enough for the Eiffellandians to join the international efforts. Another reason was political. Germanic countries, especially the ones in the Germanian League, didn't really have a good name in the world. Eiffelland wanted to find out if it was possible to improve the image of the Germanian League in the world.
Recently the Danish government suddenly decided to communicate with Wieserreich via Eiffellandian diplomats. The Eiffellandian government wasn't prepared for that and didn't like to suddenly get that role, but decided to fulfil it. Eiffelland was in a difficult situation anyway. Talemantros attacked an EDF-country while a Talemantine Prince was going to school in Eiffelland as a guest of the Eiffellandian Royal Family. How to keep both countries satisfied?
But now there was an extra problem. In fact Engellex had dismantled the EDF by attacking and occupying Montelimar. Several peace conferences failed, and now Engellex was busy with occupying and annexing Montelimar. The Eiffellandian Government did not intend to recognise Montelimar as part of Engellex, the Eiffellandian Royal Family did not intend to recognise all the Kings, Grand-Dukes and Dukes the Queen-Empress was installing in Montelimar, or to invite the Engellexic Royal Family in Eiffelland (Prince Johann had developed the bad habit to rail at Engellexics in French (and he used very terrible swearing words for that), for which he had taken French lessons so that his French was so perfectly Montelimarian that even a Montelimarian would believe that he was from Montelimar), the Eiffellandian diplomats did everything they could to avoid Engellexian diplomats at parties and never went to parties organised by Engellexians (apart from the diplomats in Engellex, who simply could not avoid visiting and inviting Engellexians), and now the Eiffellandian Navy had to work under the command of the Engellexic Navy. The Eiffellandians would do so in the name of the international community, but they were determined to make the Engellexians clear that cooperating in the name of the international community did not mean that the Eiffellandians and the Engellexians suddenly had become friends. The Eiffellandians would remain strictly formal and icily polite towards the Engellexians.

 

[Miroslavl]

Armanin, the Soviet Republic of Khitai
Armed soldiers of the Miroslavan People's Revolutionary Army watched as the Kushan workers carefully loaded the last of the ammunition containers into the vast transport ship waiting to set sail for Khitai's close neighbor, Boliatur. The Kushans were doubly careful today - for one, at least some of the unmarked containers contained hundreds upon hundreds of land mines of various types, and for two three Kushan workers had already been summarily executed for accidentally dropping a container of bullets, which had burst and spilled out it's cargo across the loading dock. Their bodies now hung from the cargo crane, a silent and grim reminder that the Miroslavans would tolerate no failure from their Kushan 'allies'.

Finally, after almost a full day's worth of labor, the work was complete. The transport slowly pulled away from the dock, heading out across the sea towards waiting Boliatur. The Kushan workers quietly lined up to receive their wages - extra ration cards, each worth one pound of meat and a loaf of bread, enough to almost double their families' resources for the next week. The two women who had also come to work received double pay, and while some of the men briefly glared, none complained.

They hadn't actually been taking part in loading the ship, after all...

 

[Tulus and Biminis]

Stupetna Sky Force Base
20km west of Stupetna
Republic of Karakhstan

The two globemasters were packed to the gills with humanitarian equipment. High energy biscuits, water, blankets, enriched rice and powdered milk, basic medicinal supplies and much more. The two giant plans taxied to the runway as the final checks were made. Three Suionian-made Gripen jets had taken off a few minutes prior to act as escorts. With so many Western powers en route, the Karakhstan Defence Force was weary of a mistaken attack or threat if they tried to impose no-fly zones.

The early morning light glared off the cockpit of the first cargo plane as its four jet engines revved up and the behemoth powered down the runway before gliding slowly into the blue sky. It's twin followed moments later and the planes formed up above. If they were flying further than Boliatur they would have needed refuelling due to their heavy payloads, but this sortie was due to last no more than three hours for flying time. They would need a few hours on the ground to unload their cargo, refuel and head back to Stupetna where much more was waiting.

Right after the planes took off, the ground crew at Stupetna Sky Force Base began preparing the next pallets for shipment. At the nearby Ground Forces base to the north of the city, truckloads of additional equipment and troops were preparing for a two and a half day journey to Mrysini. The Karakh troops would be charged with coordinating efforts to properly distribute aid in Boliatur. At Zaysan, the small border village, two separate refugee camps were being set up, already receiving thousands of fleeing refugees. On the Boliatur side of the border, efforts were being made to construct two more refugee camps to be administered and run by Karakhstan.

For now a total of 1.700 Karakh Ground Force troops were being sent north with their accompanying trucks and APCs and jeeps. More were at the Zaysan border Checkpoint to run the camps.

Back in Almatii a special office was being set up to run the entire humanitarian operation. In particular some form of payments was expected from Danmark to help defray the expected huge costs of bearing virtually all of the refugee crisis. Discussions were also being prepared with Polasciana, which was hoped to become the number two contributor of the mission, not just with money and equipment but with military transport and assistance as well.

 

[Josepania]

Osiwecim Naval Base
Oswiecim, the Lower Cerulunian Confederative Mezhist Republic

The situation across the sea had not gone unnoticed by the Mezhist Union, and although they were primarily tied up with internal squabbles within its government, centered primarily around a group of youngsters demanding more power from their older, far wiser superiors, there was one thing that overrode all other reasons and excuses to stay out of Boliatur, even at the cost of losing influence there to western powers. That thing was Soviet intention to intervene themselves. The Mezhist Union had pledged for almost a century now that the Soviet Republic would never be allowed to expand without a fight from their northern neighbors, and for the most part, that pledge was firmly upheld. Now, it would be tested again, and as such honored again.

Orders had come down from the Secretary of War and Defense himself: the usual patrols would be expanded in their radius as well as their orders. They were to, if possible, stop and search any Soviet ships they came across for smuggled weapons and/or ammunition. If any were found, said cargo would be confiscated, then the ship sent on its blustering way, perhaps with a kick in the pants. If the Soviet Republic protested, ranted and raved as they were expected to, the Mezhists would stand their ground and dare the Reds to do something about it. As mad as the communists were, the Secretary gambled they weren't stupid enough to escalate things to the point of war over something as miniscule as this.

No, that time would come later, over a much more critical issue, and when it did the Mezhists would finally strike down their mortal foes. But until then, they would content themselves with, as the youngsters so eloquently put it, "cockblocking" the Soviet Republic. If they managed to sink a resisting freighter or two in the process, that could be considered a nice bonus regardless of the overall outcome.

As for Boliatur, a resolution on that would come later, after the meeting of the two Premiers...

 

[Miroslavl]

Miroslavan Transport Ship Liberation, Snieg Ocean
8 Hours from Mrysini

Dmitri Ivanov, captain of the Miroslavan transport Liberation, was silent and grim-faced as he descended into the bowels of his vessel. Following him were three members of his crew, all hand-picked for their loyalty and bravery amongst a crew already selected for the same. Almost all the men on board the ship were bachelors - unmarried, without children, and more than a few of them orphans with no known living relatives. None to mourn them but their proud Motherland itself. They were, to put it simply, expendable, like his aging ship, it's cargo of surplus munitions, and even Dmitri himself, an elderly widower with more than enough grown sons and daughters - and even a few grandchildren - to secure his legacy. To die for the Soviet Republic now would be a great honor for them all, if it came to that.

As the procession entered the vast cargo bay, filled with mountains of stacked, unmarked crates, Dmitri spun about, facing his subordinates, who saluted him crisply. Mostly out of instinct and reflex - the Liberation was no military ship - but also out of a sense of pride and respect. Dmitri returned the salute perfectly.

"You know your duties. Make sure the explosives are in their proper places and can be detonated within a minute - and make sure they can be disarmed and removed quickly if we reach Boliatur. I don't want them being seen. Understood?"

"Yes Captain." the men chorused, immediately splitting off in all directions. Dmitri watched briefly as they set to their work, then quietly left the room, heading back towards the bridge.

In less than an hour they would be leaving Miroslavan national waters. From there even at best possible speed it was a six-hour dash through international waters, then another two before arriving at their destination in Boliatur. Mezhist interference was nearly certain.

If the Liberation arrived at it's destination, cargo intact... all well and good. If not, then they would sadly all be butchered by Cerulunian pirates without resistance. Whether the Mezhists intended on it or not. Certainly Dmitri wasn't planning to stop for inspections, and if the Mezhists saw fit to sink his ship then the crew knew precisely what to do - die honorably for their motherland, their deaths tinder for the eventual fire that would burn the Prime Enemy to ash. And if the Mezhists tried to disable the ship for boarding...

Well, that's what the bombs were for.

 

[Ashkelon]

Krajenka AFB
Krajenka, the Upper Cerulunian Federative Mezhist Republic

Krajenka AFB was a veritable beehive of activity as planes took off in quick succession from the base's many runways, with many others landing. As the primary hub of military aircraft in the northern regions of Upper Cerulunia, it was only understandable that other units being deployed to Lower Cerulunia would make their final stop-overs here before crossing over into their Sisterland. These aircraft were on a simple assignment: transfer to Lower Cerulunia, and from there, patrol the strait that lay in between them and Boliatur. If they spotted any fishy Soviet activity, well... they had their orders to deal with them appropriately.

Once the Federal Council had voted on the appropriate course of action, Generał Dywizji Huchwejda was put in charge of this operation by none other than the Director of Federal Defence. It was only customary for the constituents of the Mezhist Union to assist each other in a beautiful synergy, compensating for each others' weaknesses while complementing their strengths. While the Lower Cerulunian Republic deployed ships and boats to do the actual grunt work, the Upper Cerulunian Republic would provide support from the air if needed, and utterly necessary reconnaissance from the stars.

The Upper Cerulunian EyeStar Network was one of the leading surveillance systems in the world, and without a doubt the best in Sarmatia. The result of painstaking R&D, as well as tech importations from friendly foreign states, the first units were sent into orbit to keep an eye on the Soviets and make sure they never made any strategic movements that weren't spotted. Eventually, the EyeStars found other uses, or rather, other surveillance targets. Whenever tensions rose between the Union and neighbouring states, there was no doubt that several eyes in the heavens would turn and stare down at these countries.

For now, there would not be any hostilities. It was the Soviet prerogative to start a fight. And the conditions for such a fight were very simple, really. If they tried to extend their grubby hands into Boliatur, they would be deterred. If not by the navy patrols, then certainly by the planes that now flew over the strait. And if not... then there would be blood. As there should be.

But as to the fate of Boliatur itself, it was up to the two Premiers to decide.

 

[Josepania]

Lower Cerulunian Destroyer Escort Gornik, Snieg Ocean
Approx. 3 Hours from Mrysini

Wearily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Komandor porucznik* Michal Swirski valiantly tried and thankfully succeeded in looking authoritative on the bridge of the Gornik despite his body demanding he use that authority to withdraw to his bunk for some much needed rest. The time he should've spent sleeping and dreaming of beautiful Cerulunian women and ridiculous amounts of alcohol, as any sailor worth his salt should, was instead spent on this very bridge, assisting as he could in keeping a lookout for any Soviet ships daring enough to try and slip past the Mezhist Union's watchful eye. The orders had come just hours before, to expand the search patrols, and recently there was word that the Upper Cerulunians were contributing to the cause as well with their patrol planes and spy satellites.

For although whatever contribution the Soviet Republic could possibly bring anarchist Boliatur would be pitiful at best, it was partially the principle of it all. Allowing the Soviet Republic a single inch out of the hold the Mezhist Union had over it would result in a collapse of the entire hold... so the higher-ups told those lower on the totem pole, at any rate. Not that they needed much encouragement to make life for the Soviets as hard as possible. The Cold War had been going on between the Mezhists and Soviets for so long, with centuries more devoted to non-ideological dislike, generations worth of hate had been built up in the process to make the sentiment almost second-nature, as though it had always existed since the beginning of civilization. Cerulunians hated Miroslavans, and vice versa.

The historical review was good for Michal's mind, at least for its purpose of keeping him alert. He needed to be now more than ever, as a report had just come in from an Upper Cerulunian patrol plane. There was a freighter with a heading towards Mrysini, and the profile seemed to fit that of a typical Soviet transport, doubtless ready to sink if you so much as sneezed at it. Nevertheless, despite the choppy seas that rapidly cooled as winter grew ever closer, it seemed to be holding up to the elements, and so it was the Gornik's job, being closest to the contact, to confirm and, if necessary, detain.

Sure enough, a radar contact was soon found, and the corvette was now closing with all speed to attain visual confirmation, what visual confirmation could be found with the ghastly weather outside at any rate. Battle stations were soon called and the weapons manned and ready the minute the Soviets tried anything funny. Within minutes, a speck would be seen on the horizon, a speck that would soon grow into a big, fat target if it didn't do the right thing and stop for inspections.

Though honestly, Michal and his crew wouldn't mind terribly if it decided to run.

OOC: *Commander

 

[Miroslavl]

Miroslavan Transport Ship Liberation, Snieg Ocean
2 Hours 30 Minutes from Mrysini

Dmitri Ivanov turned his binoculars in the direction of the approaching Mezhist ship, face expressionless. A destroyer escort may be fairly small in the grand naval scheme of things, but it was more than enough to sink an unarmed civilian transport.

"Helm, go to flank speed." he commanded, his eyes still on the approaching Cerulunian ship. In just thirty more minutes, they would be inside Boliatur waters - perhaps only twenty at flank speed. But Dmitri doubted they'd have enough time. No matter - whether in Boliatur waters or international waters, the Mezhists would have their little sinking, could enjoy their brief moment of 'victory'... For now.

In a few more years, there would be very little for them to celebrate.

 

[Josepania]

Lower Cerulunian Destroyer Escort Gornik, Snieg Ocean
Approx. 2 Hours and 20 Minutes from Mrysini

"She's running, sir." a Porucznik marynarki* reported to Michal Swirski, who acknowledged with a resigned nod. Immediately after visual contact had been obtained, the freighter had increased its speed and began to run, which spoke volumes over its intentions. They barely had to make sure the flag flying was that of the Soviet Republic to know what was already apparent: it was a Soviet freighter, and it had no intention of coming about to be boarded. What was also apparent was that they were close to the waters of anarchist Boliatur, and although the Mezhist Union likely wouldn't mind ignoring rules of conflict when it came to the Soviet Republic, it would probably be better for their reputation and, more importantly, the careers of Swirski and his crew to keep this engagement as clean and in international waters as possible.

So it was with little hesitation that Swirski ordered the gunners to fire a shot or three from the main cannon across the bow of the Soviet freighter, to give them one last chance to come to their senses and be boarded. If they refused... well that's what the missiles were for...

Through the torrent of rain that bombarded both ships as they battled through the choppy seas, the warship gaining slowly on the more bulky freighter, the destroyer escort's main cannon barked once, twice, then thrice, sending the Reds a clear message.

Come about, or be sunk.

OOC: *Junior Lieutenant

 

[Miroslavl]

Miroslavan Transport Ship Liberation, Snieg Ocean
2 Hours 15 Minutes from Mrysini

Dmitri Ivanov calmly fixed his binoculars on the ship firing at them.

"Radioman, transmit the following back to Armanin:" he began, then began to describe the ship following them - it's make, any identification numbers or visible name, confirmation of the ship's Cerulunian markings, and so on. The radioman dutifully relayed the information back to the motherland, ensuring that when the time came the Liberation would have it's revenge against the Mezhists tailing it.

This done, Dmitri calmly placed the binoculars down, walking over to his seat on the bridge and lowering himself into it. The three other men aboard the bridge began to pray.

Dmitri calmly lit a cigarette. "Helm, maintain current speed and heading."

OOC: Small note - the transport would be flying just the Soviet Republic's flag, not the Miroslavan People's Revolutionary Navy ensign, since it's a civilian ship.

 

[Josepania]

Lower Cerulunian Destroyer Escort Gornik, Snieg Ocean
Approx. 2 Hours and 10 Minutes from Mrysini

Michal Swirski lowered his own binoculars as he saw the three splashes, all close enough to the freighter to make their meaning clear, yet the Soviet ship continued on heedless of the peril it was getting itself into. The man captaining that ship must have been very stupid, or perhaps he was brave and deluded enough to think that the Gornik wouldn't dare cause harm to the ship, for fear of Soviet retribution or whatever. Or maybe he hoped for a miracle, that he would make it to the territorial waters of Boliatur and would be safe from Mezhist ammunition.

Whatever he thought, he was dead wrong, and was going to pay the price for it.

"Comms, radio to Oswiecim Naval Base the following message." Swirski ordered, waiting until the comms officer gave him the go-ahead. "Have located and pursued Soviet Republic civilian transport ship, approximate heading for Mrysini, Boliatur. Transport ship has failed to respond to both hails and warning shots. ETA to Boliatur waters approximately five minutes. Requesting permission to neutralize."

There was a minute of silence as the crew waited, counting each and every second that passed of no response, visualizing the window of opportunity they had closing with each successive number. Finally, on the 61st second, the radio responded.

"Permission granted."

The crew sprung to action with no need of orders, the torpedoes the Gornik carried being primed and ready for launch. After what seemed like an eternity, the crew reported the torpedoes were locked on target.

After a moment of mental preparation, Swirski ordered, "Fire."

The launchers beneath the waves hissed as two torpedoes screamed away from their mobile sea platform. Their estimated time to impact was within a minute, which would theoretically catch the Soviet ship still in international waters, but just barely.

The possibility of them missing did not cross Swirski's mind, however, as he muttered, "Drown in hell, you Red heretics..."

OOC: Noted and edited.

 

[Northern Cooperative Unions]

Boliaturian PT-273 Boat, Patrol Group Snieg Strait
Approx. 2 Hours from Mrysini
Horizon of Snieg, in view of Gornik and Liberation, two kilometers out

The klaxons on the ship began to rapidly ring, the rusty junker's old alarms heard among the entire vessel as the yells of the Deck Legénység rang out all aboard the small, sleek vessel. A tiny, old corvette capable of scouting the outer reaches of the Snieg in an attempt to spot the Westerners. The corvette's patrol patterns brought it to a sector of ocean in the Snieg Strait.

Kapitány Szabo fumbled around the bridge, cussing as he searched about piles of paperwork for his microphone and binoculars. No Boliaturian ever believed the navy would even fight in any war. Szabo was a fisherman, not a fighter. A greenhorn, so to say, with a disloyal crew. He saw the flash of his lens, digging through piles of kadét enlistment letters. He pressed the scope up to his eyes, muttering to himself as he scanned the bow of the ship. Off the starboard were two ships.

"Get on long-range, Hadnagy! Get the PRC-147 on Channel 1 and hail Mrysini! Go!"

A man with a precise posture and red uniform standing behind the Captain rushed off towards the long-range radar and radio, sliding headphones over his scalp and onto his ears. Two distinct blips appeared as he calibrated the radar.

"Half-mass! Go slow! Get their channel!"

His yeoman rushed up to the ship-wide microphone.

"Attention, yellow! Yellow alert! Unknown vessels spotted, two kilometers out! Load weapons, find ranges, turn in!"

The Lieutenant flipped to a long-range channel directed towards Mrysini, desperately calling out the words "Fleets in the water!", but only met with static. The ship slowly began to approach the two vessels, far from within firing range.

 

[Miroslavl]

Miroslavan Transport Ship Liberation, Snieg Ocean
2 Hours 10 Minutes from Mrysini

Dmitri Ivanov watched the unmistakeable white trails under the water speed forth from the Mezhist ship and rocket towards the Liberation at high speed. Two of the other men on the bridge bowed their heads and closed their eyes.

The third turned toward Dmitri and saluted. "It has been an honor, sir."

Dmitri puffed on his cigarette once, then returned the salute.

The first Cerulunian torpedo struck directly under the bridge tower moments later, setting off the bombs rigged beneath the tower and in the engineering room below them and virtually blowing the entire rearmost quarter of the ship - and most of the crew - to pieces. A few seconds after that the second torpedo struck amidships, ripping into the cargo compartment and igniting the explosives rigged there, which in turn set off the three hundred anti-tank land mines packed tightly together within. The bottom hull ruptured instantly, spilling the ship's cargo directly into the ocean even as the ship snapped in half with a tremendous fireball.

Only one of the men aboard survived the two initial hits, blown halfway to the front of the ship by the missile strike behind him. He, in turn, calmly whispered a prayer as he struggled to his feet, then threw himself into the flames.

The Liberation sank beneath the waves within three minutes.

 

[Josepania]

Lower Cerulunian

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Gornik, Snieg Ocean
Approx. 2 Hours and 2 minutes from Mrysini

The unexpected force of the twin explosions sent a small, brief wave of shock through the Cerulunians as they looked on with grim satisfaction at their handiwork. They had expected the freighter to be seriously damaged, perhaps even disabled, but to be destroyed completely was not something they expected, even taking into account the propaganda that their ships were piles of junk on the verge of sinking anyway. The explanation was clear to a few, including Michal Swirski: the freighter was indeed carrying military weapons to Boliatur, something that the Mezhist Union could not and, as demonstrated, would not allow. That knowledge gave him a measurable amount of comfort as he ordered the ship to close in on the wreckage to search for survivors, even though an amateur sailor could tell you that such a possibility was next to impossible.

Nonetheless, the Gornik complied, and eased its way towards the wreckage, noting that the Soviet ship had been a mere two minutes, give or take, from the waters of Boliatur. Perhaps some pieces of wreckage had been flung far enough to make it to said waters, but that mattered little to the Cerulunians. What mattered was that their engagement was decisively in international waters, even though Soviet propaganda would inevitably say otherwise.

It was then that the Gornik decided to begin paying attention to the rapidly approaching corvette flying Boliatur colors. Although its presence had been briefly noted during the 'battle', attention had been focused firmly on the now sunk Soviet transport, especially considering the corvette had been out of firing range. Now it was just about to enter that range, so aside from the handful of men assigned to survivor retrieval, the destroyer escort obliged to give its full attention to the corvette. It did not hail, partially because the destroyer escort was busy itself radioing a message back to the fatherland.

"Destroyer Escort Gornik reporting in. Soviet transport was engaged in international waters approximately two minutes from the national waters of Boliatur and subsequently sunk. The force of the explosions has led us to conclude the ship's cargo was military, as we initially suspected. Searching for survivors now."

OOC: To comply with the unexpected but not unwelcome shift towards the fifties, I have talked with Miroslavl and am changing two major things in this post and previous posts. First, the projectiles that connected with the Liberator are not missiles, but torpedoes. Second, the ship that fired them is not a missile corvette, but a

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[Northern Cooperative Unions]

Boliaturian

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PT-273, Snieg Ocean
Approx. 2 Hoursfrom Mrysini

The explosion rocked the destroyer from side to side, waving the ship up and down. Men around the ship stumbled about, struggling to regain balance.

"Holy shit! Get them on the radio, now! Get our guns loaded!"

The destroyer cautiously approached the Cerulunian ship at half-speed, Kapitány Szabo prepared his flare gun. The ship's light continued to flicker and blink the morse code message "IDENTIFY", progressively faster. The crew could not help but wonder what these two ships were fighting about, or why one of the ships exploded in a fiery wreckage.

The radio on the Cerulunian ship would be hailed by a desperate, raspy Kapitány Szabo.

 

[Josepania]

Lower Cerulunian

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Gornik, Snieg Ocean
Approx. 2 Hours and 1 minute from Mrysini

The sailors from Boliatur must've been scared senseless by the brief battle, Swirski thought with grim amusement, as they frantically signaled and hailed demanding identification.

Deciding that his command of Boliatur's language was not up to par (nor was anyone else's) and assuming that the amateur captain on the other ship wasn't well-versed in Cerulunian, he ordered the response be given in morse code with his own ship's light.

The light blinked on and off deliberately, delivering the rather terse message, "MEZHIST UNION DESTROYER ESCORT GORNIK. NO AGGRESSION INTENDED TOWARDS BOLIATUR. PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT OCCURRED IN INTERNATIONAL WATERS. WATCH FOR SOVIET PROPAGANDA SOON."

While wanting to start heading back home, Swirski figured he'd remain on station for a few minutes longer while the Boliaturan ship decided what to do. The survivor search, however pointless (and fruitless so far) needed to be concluded anyway.

 

[Northern Cooperative Unions]

Boliaturian Destroyer PT-273, Snieg Ocean
Approx. 2 Hours from Mrysini


Kapitány Szabo scanned the ship, jotting down the Morse code message as the light flashed in short and long bursts. He stared at the message, his expression grim.

"Alright, lads. Arms down. Stand down and return to your bunks."

Kapitány Szabo would regret his decision, as he did regret every decision he made. He stared at the destroyed ship, grunting as his eyes passed over the Gornik. The ship stood motionless now, Kapitány Szabo would wait for the Cerulunians to make their move and exit their patrol path.

 

[Josepania]

Lower Cerulunian

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Gornik, Snieg Ocean
Approx. 2 Hours and 1 minute from Mrysini

The Boliaturan destroyer acknowledged the message and kept its distance, but remained on station. It seemed as though they were standing down, but they would not back off and return to their waters, at least not before the Gornik decided to do so first.

Well, that was just fine and dandy in Swirski's eyes. Once he got word from the crew that the survivor sweep was complete and, surprise, there were none found, he ordered the Gornik to turn back to its patrol area, slowly. He wanted to make it absolutely clear to the Boliaturans that the Mezhist Union felt safe in these waters, and would be intimidated by no one. Not them, not the ships from the west, and most certainly not the Soviets.

The Cerulunians on the Gornik had no idea what the implications or consequences of their actions would be, but at this point they didn't care. Their mission had been successful and relatively painless, and they'd probably enjoy a few days shore leave as a reward once the powers-that-be went over Swirski's after-action-report...

 

[Touzen]

Elements of the 2nd Revolutionary Airborne Division have successfully conducted their air landing operations in the Bay of Transbalgaa. As expected, this operation did not see enemy contact in the initial phase, with the counter-revolutionary coupists firmly concentrated in and around the capital of Mrysini in the western part of the country. The first and foremost task of the Advance Group is to secure the beaches of the Bay for the awaited landing of further JRA elements that are currently being mobilized and prepared for their intervention in Boliatur. Furthermore, the creation of makeshift air strips will be essential to ensure the future supply of the civilian population with emergency food, clothing and oil deliveries as well as to ensure the efficient transmission of ammunitions and other supplies of war down the chain of command as JRA elements will penetrate deeper into the country to relieve the Boliaturan government as it faces the ongoing military aggression of the Khan's followers and its foreign supporters.

Preparations for the deployment of the 15th and 16th Revolutionary Infantry Divisions and the 3rd Revolutionary Motorized Infantry are to continue according to the schedule decided upon by the General Staff in concord with the Citizens' Cabinet last week. Preliminary moves to prepare for potential mobilization of further elements is to continue across the country. Even though an escalation of hostilities is as of yet not expected, regular air-raid exercises are to be conducted amongst the population of the northern districts, with coastal patrols to be stepped up both on land and at sea. The Revolutionary Navy must not actively engage vessels nearing national waters, but is authorized to take lethal punitive action against suspected assailants, with the entrance of the Western Strait to be given special attention. Coastal defense batteries scheduled to operate as usual.

The approach of winter necessitates a quick and decisive action to remove the counter-revolutionary forces from Boliatur. The restoration of the democratically elected government of the republic is imperative to prevent a humanitarian catastrophe caused by a war footing enforced upon the civilian population by the interventionist powers.

Eastern Command is currently scheduling Operation Beachparty for the first of October, pending changing weather conditions.

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