Peace Through Infamy [Solaren Theatre]

[Rheinbund]

Southeastern Solaren

Staatsschutzkommissar Waldmann knew that policemen and rapers had a very bad position in prisons. He also knew what could happen to rapers and policemen in prisons. But what had happened to Siciliano was worse than he had considered possible. At first, Siciliano had a good position in the PoW-camp because of his high position in the old regime, but suddenly he became the policeman who had misused his position for his own good. And a raper. After the prisoners had beaten him up, he had to be taken to a hospital with severe injuries. After he had woken up from his operation, he was visited by Waldmann.
“Porca miseria Eiffellandese,” Siciliano said to Waldmann. “Testa di cazzo. Brutto figlio di puttana bastarda.”
“Why are you calling me names? I didn’t do this to you,” Waldmann said.
“Don’t tell me fairytales,” Siciliano said. “I’m a policeman myself. I know how these things go. You know that you can’t torture me, so you let my fellow‑prisoners do the job. That’s a trick I myself often did, when torturing didn’t work. I’ll let you bleed for this,” Siciliano said.
“What are you talking about?” Waldmann asked.
“What did you tell the prisoners so that they became so mad at me that they wanted to kick me dead?” Siciliano asked.
“What are you accusing me of?” Waldmann asked sharply. He exactly knew what Siciliano accused him of, but he didn’t want to show that.
“You know exactly what I mean. You told the other prisoners that I’m a sodomist and a raper. Or you let the guards spread the rumour. I’ll tell it to my barrister. When am I going to see him by the way?” Siciliano asked.
“We are not there yet. Currently you are a PoW. Indeed we will trial you, but we will do so as soon as the war is over,” Waldmann said.
“And who is watching my rights now?” Siciliano said.
“We are treating you according to the international treaties on how to treat PoWs. That is perfectly checkable,” Waldmann said.
“International treaties my ass. Apparently they don’t protect me against leaky guards,” Siciliano said. “And what about being innocent until proven guilty?”
“You know the playing rules of contitutional states quite well for a high‑ranking police officer of a dictatorship,” Waldmann said.
“Lick my ass,” Siciliano said. “I want to be replaced to another PoW‑camp.”
“That will be difficult to arrange,” Waldmann said while putting up a face indicating that he didn’t know how to do that. “Very difficult.”
“I know what you want. Vai all’ inferno, pezzo di merda,” Siciliano said. Maybe the seizure of his goods would work in EDF-countries, maybe even in Breotonia, but definitely not in Danzig. He knew the Danzigers well enough to know that for sure. At least they were clear in their intentions and didn’t do anything in the dark, like the Eiffellandians.

“I can’t believe this,” Sauerbruch said to Marco. “The tests on the second samples tell the same. You are HIV and HBV negative. Those viruses had all the chance to spring over, but they did not. This is the final proof that God exists.”
“But I’m gay. Why would He want to save me?” Marco asked.
“Apparently He doesn’t care that you are gay. And that means that the people writing the Bible made some mistakes,” Sauerbruch said. “But that has been my opinion for several decades. Continue the treatment for the syphillis, and then you are completely cured. Come, let’s do the round.”
“You once said that the Universe may be too big for God to handle. Why would He protect me then?” Marco asked.
“I don’t know, Marco. Maybe helping out some individuals is the only thing He can do. Learn one thing from me. The most important things in life are being good to other people and sticking to your word. That is also the spirit behind the Bible. Everything else does not matter, especially not those strange rules on sexuality,” Sauerbruch said. “But let’s move on now. The patients are waiting.”

It was the first day since he had been admitted to hospital that Lieutenant Matthias Weiss was completely awake and aware of his surroundings. Therefore, it was the first time for him to notice that Sauerbruch and Marco formed such a strange combination. So today he started to laugh when he saw them doing the daily patient visit.
“Good morning, Herr Leutnant, why are you laughing?” Sauerbruch asked, amused but not understanding.
“I’m awfully sorry, Herr Professor, but the two of you look like Mini & Maxi,” Matthias laughed while referring to a famous Eiffellandian comical duo.
“I don’t know if I have to consider that a compliment, Herr Leutnant, but your current behaviour shows that you’re recovering, and that makes me happy, How do you feel today?” Sauerbruch asked, amused.
“I must say that I’m feeling better, like you said, Herr Professor,” Matthias grinned.
“Good to hear, Herr Leutnant. Now let’s examine you,” Sauerbruch said while taking his stehoscope out of his pocket. He also let Marco listen.

From this day onwards, Marco sometimes visited Matthias at his bed after his “duty”. Matthias always greeted him with “Mini” and Marco always acted as if he was hurt by that, but when that act was over, they talked about everything and had a lot of fun together.

“How is Maurizio doing, gentlemen?” Duke Stefano di Perugia asked.
“We have to be honest, Your Highness,” Dr. Camici said. “Your son’s condition is still critical. Improving but still critical. The treatment we give him fights the tumor but takes a high toll from his body as well. And he was already in a very weak condition, not to say close to his death, when we first saw him. It is a God’s Miracle that he survived the transport to here. He will need a very long time to recover, if he recovers.”
“The good news is that the tumors are regressing,” Dr. Simiak added.
“But how will he come out of this?” the Duke asked.
“I don’t know for your son’s specific case. Actually, I have never started chemotherapy or any other curative treatment in a patient who was already as ill as him. Of course I often saw patients in such a bad condition, but those patients were always untreatable, and therefore I only made sure that they suffered as little as possible. Even to me this is an experiment,” Dr. Simiak said.
“Like we told you, most patients come out of it healthy, but not all. The risk of the treatment is high, but we have to take it, because it is the only way to give a patient suffering from cancer a chance. We are doing everything we can,” Dr. Camici added.
“No indeed, you have to take it,” the Duke said. “But nevertheless. I am worried.”
“I know that you are worried, Your Highness, but at this moment we can’t take your worries away,” Dr. Camici said.


West of Testono

“Using women and children as a human shield. Bastardo codardo. Vigliacco figlio di putana,” the Eiffellandian Sergeant said to the Testonoer insurgent while slapping him in the face. “This is the first time in my life that I would want to impale a man, because I know how you would feel humiliated when I’d do that to you,” he continued while slapping him in the face again.
“I don’t believe that this is the first time in your life that you want to have sex with a man. Like all Eiffellandian men, you are a perverted sodomite. But I’ll kill you if you try to fuck me,” the insurgent said while spitting the Sergeant in the face.
“Don’t worry, I won’t fuck you. I’m not that desparate. Besides, do you really think I want to get all the venereal diseases you got from your priest?” the Sergeant replied while punching the insurgent in his belly.
“Tu brutto,” the insurgent said while kicking the Sergeant in his balls. That drew the attention of several soldiers.
“Ey! Basta!” one of them shouted while pointing his gun at the insurgent, who put his hands into the air.
Then the sergeant took his pistol and shot the insurgent in his knee. “Missgeburt,” he screamed.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” a Lieutenant shouted. He was informed by the soldiers and the Sergeant.
“Korporal, the fact that those insurgents have the moral instincts of barbaric cavemen does not give us the right to behave like that as well. You shot the man into his knee while the others already had him under control. That was totally uncalled for, and cowardish. Keep yourself under control next time. I’ll watch you from now on. And now give him a bandage,” the Lieutenant shouted in German.
After the insurgent had been bandaged, the Lieutenant pointed at two other insurgents and screamed in Italian: “You, and you, carry him.”
“He will need medical care, Lieutenant,” one of the insurgents said.
“He will get medical care in the PoW-camp. Now take him and walk,” the Lieutenant screamed.

Generalleutnant Westfeld overlooked the situation and concluded that the capture of Testono would inevitably turn into a humanitary disaster. He would become the butcher of Testono. He decided not to take part in the celebrations after the end of the war. Hopefully God would forgive him for what he was going to do.
The discovery of chemical shells among the people coming out of the tunnel was a shock to the Generalleutnant, although he knew that the Solaris regime possessed them. He saw no way to spare the civilians anyway, so then he had to try to spare his own people. He had already decided to take the whole blame for it. So the capture of Testono would be the end of his career.
Meanwhile, tunnel after tunnel was discovered and closed. Insurgents taken prisoner were rapidly taken to PoW-camps and kept separate from the other Pows. Captured civilians were also sent to camps, but separate from the PoW-camps. Wounded civilians were sent to field hospitals and normal hospitals in the parts of Solaren that were already occupied.

One more time, flyers were spread over the city, stating the following (in Italian).

Our attack on Solaren will start soon. We will use all the force we have, and will take the city at any price.

It is still possible to surrender. White flags will be honoured even during the battle. However, we will react without mercy if a white flag is used as a trap.

The plane spreading the flyer flew so high that it could not be reached by the Testonoer anti‑aircraft equipment.

As soon as the Generalleutnant had got the confirmation that the Carentanians would cover him and that all tunnels from Testono had been closed, he gave the signal to start the attack. The armoured infantry vehicles were used to chase the people between the Eiffellandian troops and Testono back into the city. Tanks and armoured infantry vehicles moved forward while the people in front of them ran back to the city. Attack helicopters took over at the moment that the troops were just out of reach of the Testonoer artillery. The Eiffellandians did not start artillery fire yet so that the people fleeing for the Eiffellandians would not get paralysed while seeing the city in front of them burning and knowing that the Eiffellandians were behind them.
It took half a day to chase all the people in the lands in front of Testono back into the city. Then scouts crouched forward to find the Solaris positions and guide missiles to them.

Westfeld had 25,000 people with equipment to his disposal. He decided to keep 8,000 people with their equipment in reserve, also to make sure that new tunnels dug behind the Eiffellandian lines would be closed.


Trier, Eiffelland

“Generalleutnant Westfeld is capturing an enormous amount of radical fighters. What are we going to do with them? They will never abandon their radical beliefs, so releasing them will be out of the question. But we can’t imprison them, either,” Minister for Defence Daniel Wolzow said during the cabinet meeting.
“I don’t know. I’m afraid we have to discuss that with the EDF and Carentania,” Chancellor Matthias Graf von Seydewitz said.


OOC: Vai all’ inferno = Go to hell.

Missgeburt = Bastard.

“Codardo” and “vigliacco” mean “coward” or “cowardish”.

Missgeburt = Bastard.

Korporal = Sergeant

The other Italian texts are abusive words.

About the comical duo Mini & Maxi, IRL there is a Dutch comical duo called Mini & Maxi. It consists of two musicians: A small violinist and a very large pianist.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Syracuse

Orteli sat uncomfortably in the outer office. It was perhaps the most uncomfortable room he had ever been in. The gray linoleum looked at least 25 years old and a lot of the office equipment looked like it had been carried in when disco was dominating the airwaves. Orteli tried to focus on the stack of papers in the folder in his lap. He shifted slightly as the pleather-clad metal chair squeaked. He avoided the homely secretary trying to catch his eye.

Finally, the door opened and he was ushered into the office. It occurred to him that he had no idea whose office it was. It wasn't the director's. No, he had never seen this man before. The man was thin, almost gaunt, and was clad in a suit that 10 years ago would have impressed stock traders. The thinning gray hair revealed high widows peaks under which 2 brown and hawk-like eyes followed Orteli to the single chair in front of the desk. The thin man waved the assistant out. The office was spartan but a few awards hung on a far wall and pictures of the current and former King hung behind the desk. The desk itself seemed to be a cherry wood and Orteli noticed it was almost bare except for a stack of papers and a lime green tea cup. The thin man, looking more Slavic than Nicosian, opened by offering Orteli a drink. Orteli shook his head and was surprised at the man's smooth voice. "Not many know what it is I do here" began the thin man, holding up his hand to keep Orteli from speaking. "I started working here in 1974. I've seen it all and heard it all. Mr. Orteli, let me be frank, I make decisions. I don't push paperwork, I don't offer my opinion. I make decisions on the highest authority" said the thin man, lightly turning and craning his head towards the pictures of the monarchs. Orteli remained quiet and looked around before understanding. The office was barely worked in. This man came in on occasion when a matter was delicate. He hadn't spent his days here since 1974, he spent the occasional day here since 1974.

"So Mr. Orteli, tell me what you believe you know and I will tell you what you do not" said the thin man. Orteli was taken aback but slowly started by explaining where his postal list came from and the pattern he was seeing. Orteli spread the small map on the man's desk and showed him Santuaro and nervously explained the rest of his theory. When he finished, he finally sat back and looked at the thin man. Orteli couldn't even tell if the man had heard one word until he slowly started nodding. For several minutes, the room was quiet and Orteli assumed the man had dismissed his theory. Orteli began to fold up the map but was stopped by the thin man's voice. "Whom else have you told?" asked the thin man. Orteli was caught off guard. Telling Lippeso and Argabe wasn't against protocol but such a thing was frowned upon in cases such as these. "I told 2 analysts and Caparro" said Orteli. Caparro was a fat and useless department manager whose uncle was a somebody in the Army. Caparro was unfortunately Orteli's direct supervisor. "You formed all of this yourself?" asked the thin man.

Orteli took a breath and nodded. The thin man made a small frown and opened up a desk drawer and produced a crisp white sheet of paper and slid it across the desk. "I trade you papers" said the thin man motioning for Orteli's pile of evidence. Orteli set it on the desk and picked up the sheet.

"Dear sir,

Allow me to extend to you my greatest thanks for your service.

Signed,
Alexander IV"

It was plain and impersonal. The signature was the only thing written by hand. Orteli stared at it a moment before realizing the thin man was staring at him. "Should I go now" asked Orteli. "Yes, but first let me tell you that you do not know anything that you have just told me. Neither do your chums in your department. Your department head has been dismissed. Should you have any questions..." said the thin man now glaring almost through him, "which you DO NOT, you may call this number" concluded the thin man, sliding a business card across the desk. It was plain except for the phone number. "I wish you a good day Mr. Orteli" said the thin man, spinning around in his chair to face away from the lowly analyst.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Syracuse

Once Orteli left, the thin old man packed the stack of papers into his worn leather briefcase. It had once been a rich brown but now was turning to a cracked tan, the brass colored accents long tarnished. He felt his bones creak as he stood. He should have retired from this game long ago. He thought at the end of the 80's would have been a good time. The last of the good spying era. He sighed and strode to the door closing it behind him. He had secretly been the director of the SIO for nearly 10 years. The only person that knew were the department heads and of course the fake director who was really his number two. He rubbed his chest as he walked down the hallway. Heartburn. He hated it. He opened the door to the stairs. The old man despised elevators, mainly because they were deathtraps.

His bony hand gripped the rail as he ascended three flights, ending on the top floor. He opened the door and said hello to Betha, the assistant to the 'director'. They all stood as the old man entered the room. He urged the department heads and his number two to sit as the numerous doors were closed and the white noise machines in the air ducts clicked on. The old man heard the briefings of the day. Most operations and attention were on home and Solaren. Nicosia never really focused on foreign intelligence and instead focused on mainly security intelligence. Luckily this kept most of the SIO's few agents off of radars and they enjoyed more flexibility than most around the world. The old man listened as each completed their daily reports. So far it was a normal....or what had become a normal day. The old man smiled and the room became awash in the sound of the noise machine. Nobody stirring coffee or tea, nobody shifting in their seats, nobody cracking their knuckles. The old man rarely smiled. Holidays, births, weddings....they all got a warm genuine smile from him. Rarely did anything day-to-day cause him smile. It took him a moment to realize they were staring at him.

Casually he reached down and opened the old briefcase. He slowly stood, contents in hand. He held the stack of papers out at arms length and dropped them onto the large walnut table. "Urban" he said softly. Some nervously drank coffee and some murmured to themselves. The last Urban operation had ended in fiasco. Slowly, they quieted down. "Operation Lunar Cycle. Make it happen folks" said the old man. A young guy, department head of Oceania spoke- "Who comes up with these names anyways?" said the young department head. The veterans all turned to look at the old mans reaction. A white eyebrow raised and the young department head shrunk in his seat as it became clear that the old man picked them, or at least this one.

"Now, we believe he is hiding in a small town in the mountains, disguised as a Bishop. We have enough evidence here to send a team. HRH wants this one alive as per before. I say we send a team ASAP. This is of course of the highest priority. Unless it is a Grade I threat, everything else takes a back seat. Clear?" asked the old man before explaining how they came upon the information.


48 hours later. 5 miles outside Santuaro

The four agents moved slowly over the poorly maintained mountain road. 2 agents rode beat up bicycles and the other two, posing as man and wife, road in a cart fitted with a car axle and pulled by a lone horse. The cart was filled with shovels, picks, rope, and numerous other tools along with their clothing and various other knickknacks. Their kit of firearms and a radio were securely stored in a false panel on the cart. The story was that the three men were brothers, driven from their home by the war. Their Solaris papers identified them as such and listed their professions: 2 laborers, mason, and seamstress. They dressed as peasants and even spoke like them. They were by far the largest team Nicosian intelligence had ever fielded. 2 agents were the norm. They passed the occasional military vehicle, doing their best to pay it no mind. Santuaro slowly came into view.

 

[Khemia]

TESTONO COUNTRYSIDE

Iulia was a simple peasant woman who was living in the countryside. Of course, she had her own beliefs, her own ideals, but these were nothing in the scheme of things. Weren't they? In a world so great, where armies of thousands fought to determine your fate, what did your voice mean? Her life was pointless, but still she had to make it mean something. When her husband Felix had told her to pack her things, the farm was going to be infested with troops and tanks, she quickly rounded up her five children and set out for wherever her husband felt was the safest place to go. She had known this day would come, the armies were drawing a noose around the defenders of Testono, and in her mind she prayed for their souls. She knew they were damned, they would all eventually die. The country was falling apart at the seams, the defense force had completely failed to hold any major city that was attacked, nothing was going to make Testono any different.

Iulia approached her husband with a smile, kissed him on the cheek and looked to his baggage. He had packed a few simple things into a backpack, an old beat up thing that her son Herod had taken to 7th grade not too long ago. It could hardly carry everything that Felix cared for, but she saw the look in his eyes as he gazed at her and knew that he believed he had everything right there in that room.

"Do you have the deed?" he asked.

She nodded.

He turned to address the kids. "Alright, time to go," he said, rifling with the edge of his pants. She could tell he had hidden something there, but she knew her five children wouldn't be able to tell. "There's a caravan passing nearby, refugees from the city. We can go with them."

The kids seemed worried as they picked up their bags and the family filed out of their house. Iulia could tell, they were not their usual energetic selves. Nicon wasn't attempting to punch his brothers, and Adelia's hair was messy, utterly uncharacteristic for the precocious 8 year old. As they left the house, Iulia approached her husband, who acknowledged her with a glance.

"What do you have in your pants?" she whispered.

Felix grinned at her and Iulia couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"I saw you adjusting something in your pants," she glanced to his butt and then back to him. A shot of concern played across his face, inciting her curiosity even more.

"I didn't know if we'd meet bandits, I don't know who to trust in the country anymore," he looked at her, and she could tell he had taken the pistol from the nightstand. "I didn't want to risk it, not when we've already given up everything."

They approached a meandering rabble that seemed to be proceeding along a small dirt road towards the rest without any sense of leadership among them. There were a few shifty looking people, some who carried items that they did not look like they could afford. Looters, no doubt. Others bore scars, or were youthful but steely eyed. Deserters, for sure. A few others seemed to be alone, and each of them had a different face. But they all wore the same concern heavily upon their brows. The future was uncertain, and the unknown was to be feared. The mysterium tremendum. Well, not quite; this wasn't exactly what meeting your maker would be like, she imagined. Still, though, it seemed like the end times were upon them, and she didn't know whether or not to lay down and let God take her, or to struggle through and ensure the safety of her family. She pondered the question for what seemed to only be minutes, but Adelia's scream woke her from her stupor. She looked around; the farm was long gone. The terrain had changed from flat farmland into hilly country, and around them stood dozens of strange foreigners in uniform. One among them had grabbed Adelia and put a pistol to her head, and her husband drew his pistol to retaliate. The soldiers fired on Felix, uncertain of his intentions, and the blood splattered across her white blouse. She shouted to her kids, but fury came next. Fury at the man that held Adelia. Adelia wasn't large enough to provide him safety from the soldiers and their rifles, and the bullet that carved through his head sprayed bits of grey fat and skull into Adelia's unseemly hair. Adelia, in shock and horror, dropped to her knees as if to scream, but no sound came out. The soldiers quickly moved in to secure the weapons, and the rest of the crowd was too afraid to fight back.

Iulia and her sons quickly came to Felix's side as his chest rose and fell with each breath. She could hear a gurgle as he inhaled, and she knew his lungs were filling with blood. She leaned over, tears dripping from her face onto his, and gave him a kiss goodbye. "I'll see you soon," she said to him, before one of the soldiers tore her away from her husband.




TESTONO

The first waves of the Eiffellander attack were merely probes. Small squads of men scouting out major resistance. The Solaren troops, however, were not ignorant of the approaching threat. Plain clothes scouts watched and reported back the enemy activity as the infantry hurried past. Some of the men even feigned smiles and waved at the troops, knowing that they were walking down roads that had homemade explosives underneath drainage ditches that ran across intersections, or in trashcans along major streets, or in dirt alleyways where pressure plates were used as triggers. Claymores were set up along particularly narrow roads, and fine, non-reflective fishing wire was used to trigger them. The entire town was a giant trap. As the troops passed by, they had only seconds to notice well covered wires that ran towards a house where a lone civilian working with the military watched. It'd take him half as long to push the button, detonating the artillery shell jury-rigged as a bomb, and killing several men. The wounded, however, were more valuable. For every soldier wounded, two were required to carry him to safety, effectively taking three times as many men out of combat.

It was clear that the Eiffellander outnumbered the Solaren forces, though by how much the Solarens could not determine. They were not alone, however; much of the area of the city that wasn't being protected by the military was under the effective control of a super-fanatical cult, a cult which had up until now avoided firing on the Solaren army because of the approaching threat. Both feared each other - the Solaren military felt the Army of God was nothing more than an unorthodox lawbreaking organization, and the Army of God felt that the Solaren military were heretics and traitors condemned by God to failure and an eternity of suffering in Hell. It was also clear that those regions not controlled by the Solaren military were falling apart. Dead civilians littered the street, often beheaded. The heads stared down at passerby's from nearby windows, or hung by the hair from power lines above. Crosses had been carved, or burned, into the executed men and women, signs that they had given up their faith in the most trying hour. This battle, they viewed, was a test given to them by God, and those that failed were killed. Often, those that died had glanced at the leaflets distributed by the Eiffellanders, and those leaflets were sown into the flesh of the dead like marks of shame.

The chaos of the ultra-religious group had caused many of the civilians to seek safety in the military held regions, which were now areas overcrowded with tents and refugees. The civil defense did what they could for the people, the rice delivered by the Yujin convoys had been diminished, but was still in sufficient quantity to keep the people fed. The biggest problem was clean water, dysentary had begun to spread, and cholera seemed to be becoming a threat as well. The military couldn't afford to give away their rationed medical supplies, especially as reports filtered in that Eiffellander troops had begun probing the defenses. The explosions of the IED's sent shockwaves across the city, and with every detonation the aura of apprehension intensified. A lot of people were going to die, and there was nothing the Solaren could do to stop it.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Santuaro

The four agents had rented a small apartment on the north side of the small town. The men all had discharge papers from the army, stating they were either medically unfit or were distantly related to one such important person or the other. Thanks to Cardinal Cortez, if the team was challenged, they could make a simple phone call and all would be right.

The apartment was small even by Nicosian standards. A bedroom, a large closet, a bathroom, and a kitchen that acted as the central room. The female agent shared the bedroom with the agent acting as her husband. Of course, he slept on the floor and the two posing as brothers slept on cots next to the table in the kitchen. They played the part of peasants well but by no means lived in squalor. The tan stucco walls flaked and the sink constantly dripped...not to mention the ever present smell of body odor from the previous tenant. It was fitting for the four. Slowly, the four began to learn the layout of the town. The market, the shops. It was an odd feeling to see such a place without young men. The three male agents were among a small minority of young men that could walk Santuaro's streets. The rest could only walk the front.

Aldo Portillo was the most senior agent and played the part of the husband. He had been an officer in the fledgling military intelligence before SIO recruited him. His ability to speak the regional dialect of the south made him a chief candidate for deployment. His biggest handicap was his stuttering. The man had endured many insults and many laughs as he attempted to move forward with his career. His modest 5'7 frame did him no help either. Being a runt and having to stutter had given him confidence issues in his youth but now, he had worked past it. At 36, he was still young and had a rather angular face with strong cheekbones and a notably Breotish looking nose. His olive skin was offset by his gray eyes and full but trimmed beard.

As Aldo stepped from the street corner, Lucian and Anton followed. Having just left the depressing market, the three male agents had food for the apartment tucked under their arms. Food was scarce due to the war and the men knew they would go mostly hungry until the job was done. The three vaguely had known each other before the assignment and had minor interactions but now, they would break bread together. Rena, the last of the agents, was doing her best to meet the neighbors as was customary. She went up and down all four flights of stairs, knocking on all 11 doors, before heading back to the tiny apartment. The building was full of pensioners, widows, and a young storekeeper that had lost his leg to EDF shrapnel.

As the men headed towards the building on the town's main road, they began noticing a lot of military traffic and picked up their pace. It became evident to the men that it was a routine military convoy and they began to wave politely. The soldiers half motioned back. The war was not going well for the Solaris Kingdom indeed. The men didn't look beat or enthusiastic. They merely looked tired. Aldo exchanged glances with Anton. They wanted to smile but they knew now was not the time. They turned off of the main road and followed a number of alley-ways, memorizing the path. They did their best to be unpredictable but they could tell that they were not be followed. Santuaro was dead. The people too. They were merely going through the motions in this isolated community. The jobs long gone just like the men. They came to their street and two boys were play Oporza, a Solaris wall ball game. Aldo motioned for the other two agents to continue to the apartment. As they moved away, Aldo called out "Boy" and made a motion with his finger. The closest child, about 10 or so, came over. The boy stood silently and appraised the man.

"Boy, where is your father?" asked Aldo sternly. The boy shrugged and looked at the ground for a few moments before he said "fighting". Aldo nodded and patted the boy on the head. "Your father is a brave man" said Aldo, crouching to the boy's level. "You live around here?" asked Aldo. The boy turned and pointed at a building perhaps 20 meters from where the team was lodged. Aldo nodded and smiled. "We are new here. Tell me. The old castle, how does one get there?" asked Aldo. The boy looked at him suspiciously. "I am not going to tell your mother. I just want to know. I have never seen it" said Aldo. The boy nodded and quickly told Aldo the route.

Santuaro was once a provincial capital and once was home to one of Tiburian Catholicism's greatest Bishops before the schism. Santauro Castle was once a home to the great Bishops that ruled the province. Now, it was mostly in ruins.

 

[Rheinbund]

Testono countryside

After Lieutenant Hasenstein had overlooked the situation, she quickly gave orders to keep the group under control. Then she went over to the group of soldiers that were still holding Iulia.
“OK, what exactly happened here?” she asked.
The sergeant told everything. At the end, he said: “To be very honest, this is nothing else but a tragic incident. What are we going to do now?”
Hasenstein looked at Iulia for some moments. Then she said: “I thank you for your honest answers, Sergeant. We have to report this, not to blame you, but to learn from it. I stand behind you and your patrol, and I will take the blame. I don’t think the woman is an insurgent, but we have to separate her from the others. Not from her children, by the way. The tragedy will only become worse when she also looses her children after having lost her husband, and now the children have only one parent left. I will give another patrol the order to guard them by the way. Make sure that it is perfectly traceable where they are and what happens to them.”
Then she explained to Iulia what was going to happen, and told her to wash Adelia’s hair. After Iulia had done so, she and her children were handed over to another patrol that was going to guard them. Hasenstein ordered to treat them well and to make sure that the other refugees could see them.
After that, Hasenstein adressed the other refugees and explained to them what was going to happen. They would be disarmed and transported to a refugee camp. Hasenstein told the refugees to make sure that children remained with their parents, and that people who wanted to remain together sticked together as well. Then the refugees were accompanied to the place where they would be put into the plane that would take them to a refugee camp.


Testono

When the Eiffellandians entered the city, they were soon confronted with the mines that had been prepared for them. Several soldiers lost their legs, or their lives while suffering severe pains. It was also discovered that there were hardly any people in the city. Reconnaissance flights made clear that there were lots of tent camps in one part of the city. It was not clear why they were there, but apparently that would be the part of the city that would be guarded best. It was also discovered that the Solaris army had more or less mined everything that could be mined. It would be merely impossible to demine the city after it had been conquered.
The fact that almost all the civilians had fled to one part of the city made it easier to Generalleutnant Westfeld to order the bombing of all the city quarters in which reportedly no civilians were present and in which there were no essential buildings like hospitals or installations like water purification installations or water pumps. And that was what he did. Soon after that, the air force bombed the city quarters that had been cleared for bombing. Westfeld hoped that the mines would explode in the fires. It would be easier to demine he remaining quarters.

Westfeld ordered a couple of bulldozers to free the route into the city once the bombings were over.


Southeastern Solaren

Lieutenant Matthias Weiss was discharged from the hospital. He still needed to recuperate, but given the fact that as many hospital beds as possible had to be made available for the wounded soldiers coming from Testono, all the soldiers that strictly didn’t need hospital care any more were either sent elsewhere or given a holiday to recuperate in Eiffelland. Matthias took the latter decision. But he would go back to Solaren after two weeks. He promised Marco that he would visit him as soon as he would be back. But nevertheless Marco felt sad. He had enjoyed the talkings with Matthias very much. He had the feeling that he would miss him.

Meanwhile, Prof. Dr. Sauerbruch was a happy man. Apart from his job as ward doctor, he had managed to reorganise public health care in Southeastern Solaren, together with some old friends from Eiffelland. Public health care was functioning again in Southeasten Solaren, and even treatments that were new to Solaris doctors were introduced. Even more, the concept of preventive health care was introduced as well.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Santuaro

The four agents placed their feet carefully. The abandoned castle was in ruins and not a sole could be found roaming its dark and almost creepy halls. For a time in the 1950's, it had been an abbey. Now, the south wall had collapsed to form a ramp to the top ramparts. The four slowly came down it in the dark, carefully placing their feet. There was no way Urban was hiding in the great castle. Judging from the empty bottles, it seemed the only people there in the past months were drunkards. The four were deadly silent as they walked down the road towards the heart of Santauro. They all felt something. They all felt that feeling in the gut, almost a tickle. He was close.

Aldo looked down at the road as they came down the small hill. It was paved, but full of cracks and holes. He carefully balanced himself along a crack, one foot behind the other as if walking a line. The failure of the night was half expected but still they felt defeated. "What do look for now?" asked Lucian, gazing up at the sound of an invisible jet overhead. Aldo shrugged in the fading light. Rena spoke softly, "we keep looking. He is here, somewhere. Its only a matter of time before we have it sealed".

Aldo stopped and turned, staring at Rena. He said nothing but smiled and resumed walking along cracks.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Anton sat at the cafe, slowly sucking down the cigarette. The main road through the town was for the most part dead. The occasional car drove by and the occasional horse drawn cart went by. By far, the most common vehicle appeared to be the scooter; the riders weaving harshly to avoid potholes. Anton gazed out the window. The four agents had fanned across the town's cafes and kept watch. Anton sipped the weak teat that was highly overpriced because of the war. He was a tall lanky man whose high cheekbones gave him a handsome appearance that was also somehow almost grotesque. His slouch hat and rolled up sleeves offset his mid-thirties age. Dressed as a man of perhaps 25, Anton looked almost silly. But then again, everything in this g-d forsaken country was silly or psychotic. Anton spotted it. Its deep green camouflage offset by the key and quill pen symbol on its bumper. The military postal service was the only operating postal entity in the entire country. Anton threw a few bills on the cheap plastic table and exited the cafe.

The rusting scooter at least turned over, coughing to life and struggling to move all of Anton's 165 pounds. The single cylinder was enough to pull Anton behind the truck which stopped at the local post office. Anton watched carefully as the local postal clerk loaded bag after bag into the rear of the truck. It struck Anton that he was only following the transit vehicle and not the delivery vehicle. He cursed before he saw the truck move a few doors down and stop. The thin two story row-house was of a granite. Perhaps in the 1800's, some upper middle class trader lived in the home. Now it was a decrepit home. It was by no means a poor mans home but it had definitely slipped. Out of it, crept the only military officer Anton had seen in the town. The officer handed the driver a stack of envelopes and then scurried back inside. Only then did Anton know.

 

[Rheinbund]

Testono

Generalleutnant Westfeld was concerned that the firestorm resulting from the bombings would set the areas of the city that needed to be spared to fire. Therefore, he decided to have the fires extuinghished as soon as they would come too close to the city quarters where the civil population had fled to, or to hospitals, power plants, water pumps and comparable structures. Soon after that order had been issued, fire fighting aeroplanes flew over the city to fulfil it. They were covered by attack helicopters.
Meanwhile, enormous amounts of Oral Rehydration Solution were sent to the troops around Testono together with a medical team to fight a possible outbreak of cholera. The Eiffellandian soldiers had all been vaccinated against all possible diseases that could spring up in an unhygienic area, so only a few casualties among them were expected.

The fires had a tremendous effect on the city. After the firestorm had faded out and the fires near the places that were intended to be spared had been extuingished, it appeared that the city had been turned into a collection of ruins. The Eiffellandian soldiers were well‑trained, but nothing could have prepared them for this kind of destruction. All had already seen it, but on pictures. Many of those pictures were part of the inheritance of the Great War, in which cities were massively bombed. Cities that had been devastated. But no matter how terrible those pictures were, the real image of a bombed out city was worse. Generalleutnant Westfeld looked at it horror‑struck. Like his soldiers. He still thought that he didn’t have a choice, but nevertheless it was horrible.
The ruins would also form a problem in the next phase of the operation. Most mines would probably have exploded due to the heat of the firestorm, but instead roads were blocked with heaps of debris. Those heaps formed nice hiding places for Solaris soldiers and militionmembers and made it more difficult for tanks and armoured infantry vehicles to pass. On the other hand, without the mines the Eiffellandians could fight a normal city battle.
As soon as the fires had faded out, scouts were sent into the city to explore the situation.

It was expected that many people would become homeless after the battle for Testono. Therefore, equipment to set up refugee camps for several hundreds of thousands of people were sent to the theatre. Also food and clean water were sent.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Santuaro

Rena was halfway up the stairs when she felt like she had been kicked in the chest. She would have thought so if she hadn't seen the man wielding the ancient shotgun at the top of the stairs. It barely registered as she was flung back, finally falling to the foot of the stairs. She felt the pain to to numbness, and then suddenly, nothing.

6 hours earlier

The four agents walked and pretended to look at the trees. The small wooded park was at the center of Santauro and ran along the main road. More importantly it faced the aging home they suspected. They had bitterly argued if they should risk the feat on a hunch. The argument was long and drawn out, the four arguing late into the night. Rena pushed for it more than anyone. Aldo eventually backed her. While Rena was technically the team leader, Aldo had the most experience and as a result the two junior agents were inclined to go with his choice.

The four had set a rudimentary plan but most of what they would do would be on a whim. Anton had been sent around noon to buy a car. Nothing flashy, but reliable and safe. People were more than happy to sell their cars with the country's economy in shambles. They had waited to the last minute, but it was another calculated risk. Peasants suddenly appearing in town and suddenly buying a car may raise eyebrows. Since they waited, news that so-and-so had sold their car to the new residents could not get far. The red Ampi was a Frankish car made by a company no longer in existence. It was made in the mid 1980's and had a 100hp 4 cylinder engine. It was a normally pathetic car but under the circumstances, it would do. Parked in a nearby alley, Anton would pull the car around just before they made entry. When all four were confident that they had learned the layout of the neighborhood, they returned to their apartment for dinner. Aldo poured each of them a very small portion of fortified wine and gave each a piece of sunflower and sesame chicken. They sat quietly. It seemed most were not hungry but they each eagerly drank their wine. Only Aldo calmly cut into his chicken, scooping it eagerly into his mouth. Rena, Lucian, and Aldo all stared at him. Aldo was well aware of their stares and tried to ignore them. Finally he dropped his knife and fork and tore the napkin from his collar. "Listen, if you don't eat your food you'll regret it. There are people around here that can't afford a chicken's foot let alone chicken breast. These people have been crushed by this war. Eat your fucking chicken" said Aldo, obviously annoyed. He calmly stuffed the napkin back into the collar of his plain white dress shirt. Lucian was the first to start eating and slowly, Rena and Anton also began to eat. The meal was almost silent except for one asked for the salt or the pepper.

They stacked the plates and started a fire in the small fire place. Into the flames they threw their spare clothes and their Solaris identification. Cardinal Cortez had come through and provided the agents with new identification. All four agents were now identified as members of the Solaris High Court as the Solaris equivalent to defense attorneys. As High Court Protection Council's, the four agents could move anywhere in the country without much suspicion. Aldo checked the apartment for anything else before they left the apartment. With the agents standing around the table, Rena handed each agent a semi-auto .380. They each racked the slide and tucked the guns into their waistband. They left a stack of money on the table for the landlord and closed the door behind them.


2315 hrs, Santauro

Anton started the aged Ampi and stared at the dash. He tried to control his breathing as he put the car into drive to pull out of the alley. He slowly put his pistol next to him on the houndstooth bench seat. As Anton began to pull the car around, the three crouched in front of the old two story house. They could hear laughter inside. The front of the house was composed of two bared windows on the second floor and one large window on the first, 4 feet from the ground. To the right of the window, was a forest green colored door with pealing paint. Aldo, Lucian, and Rena crouched below the window. Its light illuminated the otherwise dark street. Santauro was deadly quiet and only a few lights were on around the town. Lucian slowly raised himself so he could see into the window. Inside was a large kitchen with 4 soldiers seated at a table. They were playing cards and laughing. One, who Lucian presumed to be the Sergeant, passed out cigarettes before pointing at a soldier and muttering something. Lucian watched as the young boy stood up and brought back a glass of water before sitting back at the table. Lucian lowered himself. The Sergeant was somewhat facing the window and Lucian decided he would be the target. Rena and Aldo pulled their pistols and held them low. Lucian held the M33 Fragmentation Grenade in his hands and looked at it, taking a deep breath. He looked up to Rena who nodded. Lucian pulled the pin and stood. He released the spoon and counted "1, 2" and with all of his might he threw it through the window. While he had aimed for the fat sergeant's head, it still struck him in the shoulder. As Lucian ducked back down he continued to count- "3, 4..". Before Lucian could get the word 'five' from his mouth, the rest of the glass blew outward. Aldo cursed himself as they were covered in glass. He should have known better, Rena too. They all had ringing ears as they shook the glass from their bodies while running for the door.

Rena was about to shoot the lock but to her astonishment, the door gave with a simple turn of the faded brass nob. The 3 agents moved quickly inside. They could smell the acrid smoke from the grenade. Inside, along the right hand wall, stairs leading upward. To the left of the staircase was a foyer that opened to the large kitchen/dining room which appeared to run the length of the the home on the left-hand side. The agents moved quickly into the kitchen. It's aqua colored tiles had been thrown from the walls and the cheap composite cabinets were either thrown from the wall or were in shreds hanging for their lives on the wall. Towards the window, the soldiers lay. Two moaned and were trying to crawl. Lucian and Aldo quickly ran up and put two rounds into each of their heads. Rena moved quickly out of the kitchen to the back of the house. She could see the bathroom was empty and as she moved to the living room, Aldo and Lucian caught up. Before Aldo could ask her to slow down, she whizzed past him saying "It is clear! Upstairs! Upstairs!". Aldo and Lucian looked at each other before turning to catch up. Just as they got to the foot of the stairs they heard a boom and saw Rena fly back. They saw the movement at the top of the stairs. Aldo emptied his .380 as Lucian stood and stared at Rena's lifeless body. The man at the top of the stairs crumpled as four of the six .380 rounds. Aldo looked at Lucian as he replaced his magazine. Aldo grabbed him by the shoulder and got in close. "Shes gone, lets go" said Aldo, inches from the mans face. The two ascended the stairs, Aldo in front. He held the little .380 low with both hands.

The man at the top of the stairs was the home owner guessed Aldo. The homeowner was dying in front of an open bedroom door. Aldo could hear the man gargling and drowning in his own blood. He tried to ignore him as he pointed the gun into the empty room, trying to register if anyone was inside. He decided their was not and looked to his left to see if the only other door on the second floor was still closed. Indeed it was. Aldo looked down at the homeowner. He looked to be an older man, wearing corduroy pants that were much to short and were held up by suspenders. His shirt was a blue button down but was soaked red. Looking higher, Aldo could see that at least one round shattered his cheekbone and entered his head. He swallowed deeply and pointed at the other door. Lucian nodded. They took up positions on either side of the door and listened. Their ears were still ringing from the gunshots and the grenade from earlier. Aldo held the doorknob and looked at Lucian. Aldo mouthed "One...Two...Three".... The door swung open as Aldo stepped into the doorway. Three cracks filled the room as one of the rounds slammed into Aldo's shoulder, plunging him back into the hallway. Lucian stepped calmly into the doorway, .380 raised and fired until the slide locked back. The Solaris major fell to the ground, seven of the eight .380 rounds smashing into his torso. Aldo cursed in the hallway as he struggled to his feet. The room was lit by a single bulb and was filled with old pieces of furniture in rough condition. However, on the bed sat a man in robes and in a mask, hands on his knees. The polished metal masked looked at Lucian and at Aldo as he stepped into the room. It looked at the cocked to one side, like a dog trying to analyze a command.

"You are coming with us" said Aldo through gritted teeth, pointing his pistol at the bed. Lucian tried to reload but fumbled with the magazine. It fell to the ground with a thud. He bent down and slid it into the gun, pointing his also at the bed. The mask cocked straight and he slowly stood. The masked man approached slowly. Too slowly in Aldo's opinion. Aldo rushed behind him and literally kicked him in the ass- "MOVE!" screamed Aldo as the silent man stumbled forward. Lucian moved out of the way. The silent man paused in the doorway as Aldo kicked him again. Again, the silent and masked man paused at the top of the stairs and looked down, inspecting the body of the home owner and looking down at Rena's body at the foot of the stairs. This time Aldo did not kick him. Aldo looked down at Rena's body, now surrounded by a larger pool of blood. "Lets go, come on" said Aldo softly, still speaking through gritted teeth. The pain was becoming unbearable and Aldo knew his blood loss may soon be an issue. The three descended the stairs and Lucian paused to get Rena's false identity papers, stuffing them in his back pocket.

The three came out the door and Lucian opened the Ambi's rear door. Aldo, despite immense pain, shoved the masked man with both hands. Stumbling, the man fell into the rear seat and hauled himself into what somewhat resembled a sitting position. Lucian quickly jumped in next to him, holding the gun on him. Aldo shut the door and went to the front. "Where is Rena?" asked Anton, who looked as nervous as a cat in a doghouse. "Just drive" said Aldo calmly, grunting from his shoulder wound. Aldo looked in the mirror at the house. They had been in the house for only a matter of minutes and several lives had ended. The little red Ambi bounced northward on the rough road.

 

[Papist Solaren]

TESTONO
The fires continued to rage in many parts of the city - it would take days for them to die down, regardless of the efforts of airborne relief units. Tens of thousands who had hidden in bomb shelters had died, baked alive in the heat as the firestorm had sucked the oxygen out of their hiding places and turned them into crispy corpses. The Eiffellander troops had not seen their heat signatures because they had hidden, a mistake made in war that someone would have to live up to. The fires had indeed blown apart most of the IED's, but the nations stockpiles of artillery sells were vast, and what had been blown could easily be replaced. Now that the terrain provided lucrative areas to bury bombs with even the most rudimentary of triggers, it did not take the Army and terrorist militia's long to begin replanting the bombs and mines while skirmishing forces kept the enemy at bay. It was here, in this burning hell, that Solaren would dig in her teeth, and the first rounds of the battle of Testono were fired. Snipers hiding in blown out structures fired rounds at soldiers as they weaved in and out of rubble cautiously checking for undetonated ordnance. Women and children screamed and ran towards crowds of unsuspecting soldiers who were completely unaware of the explosives strapped to their chests, suicide bombers desperate to make every foreigner pay. Members of the Army of God hid within mass graves of executed heretics extremely large bombs, hooked up to wires that detonated when the triggerman saw the soldiers passing by. Those troops who were fortunate enough to live were covered in the gore, bones, and bits of their comrades; and within moments were quickly fired upon by fanatical zealots dressed as refugees or civilians.

Even the Solaren Army soldiers themselves had largely abandoned their green and brown fatigues in favor of dark grey sweaters and blue jeans - plain clothes soldiers were harder to distinguish from civilians, and the darker, duller colors of their new clothing blended them in better with a charred landscape. Faces covered in soot, they hid in nooks and crannies in rubble, some firing rifles, others acting as living mines to throw themselves at passing enemy squads. Within the 'safe zones' where the majority of Testono's population had taken refuge - over two hundred thousand souls - artillery shells were loaded into howitzers which were targeted at various locations that were deemed to be the most 'likely' approach path for the Eiffellander troops; areas that weren't on fire and areas that were not so dense in rubble that retreat and medivac were still possibilities. What was worse, the fortified homes and structures surrounding the military objectives which had been barricaded, both inside and out, with jersey barriers, sandbags, machine gun nests, barbed wire, and all other types of nasty contraptions, were the only route into the city that did not expressly involve fighting through crowds of civilians living in tents, some - perhaps many - of whom were willing to sacrifice themselves to kill just one soldier.

WEST OF TESTONO
Iulia wasn't sure where she and her children were heading. Though the troops spoke her native tongue, it was a butchered overseas dialect that she found confusing. That was to be expected, she knew - it was amazing that the cultural separation between the two states have even allowed any semblance of linguistic compatibility to survive. Her fingers absently stroked the blood stains on her blouse, and the vision of her husband being penetrated by bullets, blood spilling from the exit wounds like gushing fountains, simply could not be erased from her mind. The abstract horror of her idle thoughts caused her to neglect the pain her children felt; she knew it was wrong to dwell on her own thoughts when her children suffered so, but she had lost something so dear to her. Was it really so wrong to be selfish, for just a little while? Her children were young, she rationalized. They'd recover on their own.

The truck she and her children were in ambled over rugged roads, jaunting and jostling the kids who were too afraid of the soldiers 'escorting' them to mutter their frustrations. Soon, she knew, they would be at a 'refugee' camp. She was afraid of what she would find there, the people she would meet. The country was becoming desperate, many people had lost their homes and possessions, but others had simply lost their minds and humanity. Adelia, her shirt still stained red from the blood of the terrorist, tugged on Iulia's sleeve. "Mama, how long do we have to be here? When can we go home?"

Iulia stroked her husbands blood one last time before looking up to her daughter. "We're not going back home, sweetie. We'll be okay here, just stay with me and everything will be fine."

ACROSS SOLAREN
Military resistance to the combined EDF-Carentanian offensives were crumbling, for two reasons. The first, and most obvious - desertion - was not as widespread as one would believe. Of the sixty to seventy divisions that had been mobilized to fight back the invaders, most of the men and conscripts had abandoned their nation and returned to their families. The average divisions was only three to four thousand men strong; but these men had fought alongside their commanders and for their country, despite the odds, for half a year now. They had been often been given the opportunity to desert as their commanders had, but instead chose to stay and been reassigned to more loyal units. The divisions that continued to resist Carentania were haphazardly combined outfits with little coordination but fierce loyalty to their commanders. So, no, the Solaren resistance was not crumbling because of desertion - instead it was a second reason. The Solaren commanders had realized that the days of conventional warfare were quickly coming to an end. Many units had left the front lines and raided their own supply depots, pulling equipment and munitions and rations out and embedding themselves into loyal villages and towns, often away from the city where too many people with beady eyes and loose lips were prone to live. They brought with them trucks and vans and cars, bombs and bullets and chemical weapons.

They bided their time, created new places to hide their weapons, and built friendships with the locals. They were organized forces, and they provided absolute security for the residents of the towns where they lived. Many of these men and officers became connected with the local church officials, many of whom were quite hardline and anti-foreigner. These pockets of 'resistance' to the occupation were thorny villages which became hotbeds for embittered refugees who wanted to live their lives like they always had, and would not be happy in being told what to do. Those officers who had chosen to demobilize their units and build these assymetrical paramilitary forces often kept in touch with each other - a loose organization of leaders who were ready to negotiate with the invaders for favorable terms - or spark an insurgency of their own.

What resistance was left was focused around the heart of the Sacred Kingdom - Torrence. Here a large force of units which had been held in reserve awaited to make the final stand in the name of God, Country, and Pope. Included among these were the Sacred Kingdom's most elite soldiers, Urban's personal protectors - the Papal Guards. They were supported by a smaller force of loyal army soldiers, who themselves were bolstered by large numbers of conscripts who only fought because their families would suffer the consequences if they did not. The farmland surrounding the city, the dirt roads, and many other areas surrounding Torrence had been mined with everything from anti-personnel mines and anti-vehicle mines to IED's made from soman and sarin gas shells, 105 and 155mm shells, simple dynamite, and even homemade explosives and napalm. Civilian traffic was rare, and those who did drive were often unarmed scouts posing as civilians. A few among these even carried large amounts of semtex and other explosives; VBIED's driven by faithful fanatics willing to die to save the Church.

Urban himself, however, had not been seen by his troops for ages. Whether or not he was still alive did not matter; Urban's lessers had convinced the military that he still lived, and that it was their duty to die in his name. He was the living will of God, and it was His will that the men and women of Torrence died fighting, or burn in Hell forever.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

La Spina, Northern Solaren

Aldo had turned a ghastly white. He had lost a lot of blood in the initial hour of the car ride. The little Ambi was could do no more than 45 mph on much of the mountain roads, seriously neglected by the prisoner's regime. Every so often, the car would have to slow so it could crawl through a maze of potholes. Aldo hung his head and did his best to focus on the radio and staying conscious. If he felt tired, he would take a drag or two from one of his compatriots cigarettes.

Finally, after 2 and a half hours of driving the Ambi slowed. Anton looked at Aldo and Lucian. The Papal Kingdom ended a few hundred yards ahead. Beyond thee bridge was Free Solaren. Beyond the bridge a Nicosian helicopter sat, ready to take them away. The three Nicosians sat in wonder. The bridge crossed the Holy Ravine of the North and stretched nearly a half mile. The ancient trestle bridge was almost completely dark. EDF forces had stopped their advance on the North side of the bridge, knowing the condition of the roads past it. As a result, only a handful of Solaris conscripts guarded it. After all, it was partially set with explosives. The agents talked it over for what seemed like an eternity. Finally the decision was made.

The car, lights off, slowly made its way towards the bridge. In the moonlight, the agents could make out Solaris positions on the hillside. On the opposite side of the bridge, they could see nothing. Anton looked at each of the people in the car as it rolled closer to the Solaris positions. He did not want to be the one driving. Right then, he wanted none of it. He instead could be driving a tank somewhere or arming a Nicosian fighter but instead he was here. Soon the Solaris soldiers would hear the rattle of the Ambi's little engine. Anton knew it was time, he floored it. Driving by the light of the moon, Anton felt the car start to move under him. He could vaguely hear the shouts from outside the car and the sound of the engine, but it was all taken over by a buzz in his head. He was in zoned in. After a few moments he heard the rumbled of the wooden bridge under the car's wheels. Just wide enough for two cars, Anton for one reason or another, hugged the left side. Halfway across the bridge, he flicked the lights on. He became conscious that he was doing almost 60 miles an hour and stared at the speedometer. They had almost made it when their world went to hell. Flashes erupted on the Nicosian side, the bridge became a dance of tracer rounds. Just as they neared the end of the bridge, rounds punched into the the grill and hood. Anton jerked the wheel to the right and to the left, honking his horn. Finally, the car jumped a bit as the car hit earth again but it would soon leave the road. Just as soon as they had crossed, rounds slammed into the car and Anton once again jerked the wheel, the red Ambi slamming into a massive boulder. The fire faded as the Nicosian and Lorrainian troops descended on the wrecked car.

 

[Rheinbund]

Testono

The story about suicide bombers spreaded quickly among the Eiffellandian soldiers. As a result, many of them didn’t want to take a risk any more and shot at everyone that came running at them. Many suicide bombers died in this way, but also many real refugees. The battle for the city was severe. Many Eiffellandian soldiers lost their lives. Grown paranoid because of the guerilla tactiques of the militiamen, the Eiffellandians shot at everything that moved and was not clearly recognisable as Eiffellandian or Carentanian.
Recognition flights were carried out above the “safe zone”, especially along its border. As soon as the Howitsers were discovered, they were precision‑bombed. Furthermore, cans with fresh water were dropped above the “safe zone” to try to prevent an outbreak of contagious diseases. It was hoped that the people in the “safe zone” would trust the contents of those cans and would use them.
Recognition was also carried out in the remainder of the city. This revealed that the “safe zone” was guarded by the Solaris army, but that there also seemed to be some radical militias active outside the “safe zone”. Recognition flights carried out outside the “safe zone” revealed some builkdings that seemed to be used as storages by those radical militias. Precision‑bombings targeting those buildings followed. The same happened to the larger barricades built up by the militias or the Solaris army.

Generalleutnant Westfeld saw himself confronted with a problem. On the one hand, he understood his people’s fear for suicide bombers. On the other hand, shooting at civilians was something he wanted to prevent. He knew that that would be difficult to explain. Extremely difficult. Journalists were explicitly warned not to go into Testono because of the danger, but forbidding them to enter the city was impossible, because that would be explained as if the Eiffellandians had something to hide. Furthermore, prohibition or not, there would always be a handful of daredevils that would enter the city. And those daredevils would be extra triggered with a prohibition.
Westfeld knew about the problems of Oberst Böck at Il Cancello. He also knew how the latter had solved them: All the soldiers at Il Cancello carried tasers to defend themselves against civilians with pitchforks and frypans. Westfeld considered that a good idea. Therefore, he ordered an enormous load of tasers so that his soldiers could use those against people that were not easily recognisable as soldiers or militiamen. Further orders remained the same: Shoot at everybody that clearly carries or operates a weapon. So people operating a machine gun were shot at. People who were caught napping while installing mines, boobytreps or comparable explosive constructions were shot at as well.
Westfeld was also informed that the radical militias apparently had a reserve load of mines, boobytreps and comparable explosive devices, and that they were very busy with installing those. The debris appeared to be a good place to do so. He got the idea to use bulldosers or shovels to clean up the debris, but rejected that idea after a few seconds—The bulldozers and shovels would fall through the ceilings of the cellars. Instead, he ordered tanks, infantry fighting vehicles and attack helicopters to go into the city. They had to fire at machine gun nests and ambushes. Furthermore, the attack helicopters had to check for snipers and attack them. The soldiers also used their hand grenades against machine gun nests and ambushes.


West of Testono

The group of refugees Iulia was a part of was transported to a refugee camp. There they were registered and ordered to wash themselves. After that, they got a set of dry clothes and were ordered to wash their own clothes. Ill and wounded people went directly to the lazaret. Food, water and milk were present there. Order was maintained strictly but respectfully. To fight boredom, the inhabitants of the refugee camp were stimulated to take initiatives to either entertain or develop each other. There were schools for the children as well.

 

[Socialist Commonwealth]

South of Testono

The battle for the metropolis was waged without Carentania thusfar, despite the Revolutionary Army having amassed forces in fair and safe distance to the city a while ago. Initially it was hoped that the defense of the city would be weakened by the Eiffelländer offensive, but their own casualties force the EDF to reorganize their units. Carentanias plan was for this window of opportunity to be used for an own offensive, seizing the city from right under the nose of Eiffelland. However, such hopes had become a thing of the past now, following a succesful negotiation with Eiffelland that secured the future, liberated Testono as a supply base for the final Carentanian offensive on Torrence. A much more important battle to be fought with the EDF on the sidelines, much as Carentania was now watching Testono being fought over.

On the sidelines, but no longer uninvolved, as Carentanian howitzers and rocket artillery assumed positions within striking range of the city, well protected against raids by Carentanian infantry and tanks. Eiffelland was aware of this and being informed of every troop movement it needed to know during the battle for Testono. Additionally, Carentanian fighters, based on airfields on Capraria, stood ready to strike on targets as requested by Eiffelland. The Revolutionary Army would serve an auxilliary role in this battle and in return, Eiffelland would do the same during the Carentanian offensive on Torrence. This had the additional benefit of sparing the Carentanian troops a very exhausting and destructive urban fight in one of Solarens largest cities. Right on the eve of the battle for Torrence, this would prove useful. Carentanian forces in the southern half of Solaren could, the hunt for Partisans and occasional raids on distant positions notwithstanding, take a break from war and catch their breath.

Throughout the Carentanian zone of operation, a network of small outposts had been established. Those "watchtowers" could deny partisans free movement through rural areas, disrupt their supply chains and operations through randomized patrols in the surrounding areas and engage them directly wherever spotted. Air cavalry and close air support from larger bases allowed for the rapid deployment of heavy firepower wherever Solaren partisans could muster stronger resistance. Additionally, the collectivization of agricultural land, albeit unpopular and cause of resistance by the expropriated farmers, allowed for tighter control of the liberated areas, as the larger agricultural collectives incorporated both SNC supporters and Carentanian advisors - either of which would report any irregularities that hinted to food being supplied to partisan forces.

 

[Rheinbund]

Testono
Present day

“Watch out,” one of the soldiers under Lieutenant Matthias Weiß screamed when he saw another child running towards them. Weiß was fast enough to grab his taser and fire it at the child. Then the machine guns started rattling. Weiß and his men dunked into hiding and opened fire from there. It took a couple of minutes, but they managed to defeat the machine gunners.
Then the child woke up again. He was ordered to stand up and take off his clothes, so that the soldiers could check whether he wore a bomb belt. But instead he started to run to weiß’s group again. One of the soldiers pointed his taser and fired. The child fell to the ground again. One of the soldiers wanted to run to him, but Weiß stopped him.
“No. He probably wears a bomb belt. You never know what happens if we try to take it off. Maybe it blows up then. I’m awfully sorry, but we can’t do anything for him now,” he said.


Eiffelland and Southeastern Solaren
Somewhere in the past

Lieutenant Matthias Weiß had spent two weeks in Eiffelland to recuperate. He had visited his family in Sterzhausen, a small village near Marburg. Originally this village was a collection of farms, but it was extended with a villaquarter in the 1970s and 1980s. This was the place where Matthias grew up. He was born in a hospital in Marburg in 1987. The forests, hills and fields around Sterzhausen were his playing field. On hot summer days, he swam in the Lahn. He climbed the highest trees, cycled the highest hills and was good at soccer and hockey as well. Also at school he got the highest notes in gymnastics. That gained him some respect among the farmer sons, although he was never completely accepted by them and he never became friends with them, because he was from the villa quarter. But Matthias didn’t mind. He had enough friends.
Matthias had his first boyfriend at age 15. When that became known in Sterzhausen, some of his former class mates from primary school (farmer sons to be precise) wanted to beat him up, but that ended with Matthias beating those former class mates up. Since then, homosexuality was accepted in Sterzhausen. His family didn’t mind at all, and neither did his friends from the villa quarter or his friends at secondary school, a Gymnasium (grammar school) in Marburg.
Matthias’s father was a fighter pilot, serving at the air force base near Marburg. Matthias himself wanted to join the air force as well, but his eyes weren’t good enough for that, so he chose for the army instead. After his Abitur in 2006, he went to a military academy. He absolved it in 2010, after which he started to work as a lieutenant at the military base in Villach.

“You talk a lot about that nurse in Southeastern Solaren,” his mother once said while they were walking through the neighbourhood. “Are you in love?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I am. The guy is so sweet. But I am also afraid that he turns out to be a second Rolf,” Matthias had said. “For him, I am the rich Eiffellandian. I don’t want another lazy profiteer as my boyfriend. And then something else. He is from Solaren, a country with a completely different culture than ours. Indeed, Eiffelland is a better country for gays than Solaren. It will take years, maybe even some decades, before homosexuality is accepted there. His homosexuality will be accepted here, but for the remainder Eiffelland will be a complete culture shock to him. I could stay in Solaren for him, but we won’t stay there permanently. When the country has been stabilised, we will go back. And what then?”
“Do you know if he is in love with you?” his mother asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve never asked. But we have such a good contact with each other, and he always comes to me after his shift. And he was really sad when I said him goodbye,” Matthias said.
“You do not always have to ask things, you know,” his mother said. “In any case, you are important to him.”
After a minute, she continued. “You are thinking too much into the future. The two of you already talked a lot, but that doesn’t mean that you already know each other. Give it some time, and try to get to know him a bit more. If he indeed turns out to be a second Rolf, you can always quit.”
“But I don’t want to be hurt that way any more,” Matthias said.
“You can only defeat Rolf if you become happy yourself. If you let your bad experience with him determine your love for somebody else, he will win. Don’t let that happen,” his mother said.

When Matthias returned to Solaren, he visited the hospital first to see Marco again. They had a joyful afternoon, until Matthias told that he had to go to Testono. At that moment, Marco started to cry. Matthias didn’t want to do anything else than take the guy in his arms, but he knew about Marco’s history, and he doubted if that was the right thing to do with somebody who had been raped in the past. So he didn’t do it. Marco asked him several times to promise to come back alive. Matthias did. And that was a promise he certainly wanted to keep.


Southeastern Solaren
Present day

“We have good news for you, Your Highness,” Dr. Camici said to Duke Stefano di Perugia. “We managed to stabilise, and even improve, your son’s condition.”
“Does this mean that he will survive?” the Duke said.
“I can’t give a guarantee yet, but the chances have improved very much,” Dr. Camici said. Then he gave a large update on Maurizio’s health status. At the end, he said: “You may visit him now, but I have to tell you some things. Maurizio is still unconscious, so you can’t talk to him yet. Furthermore, don’t frighten up because of all the devices he is connected to, and because of all the tubes in his body. You will also see that Maurizio has lost all his body hair. He has become bald. That is a side‑effect of the medications he gets.”
“My first concern at this moment is that he survives. All other things we’ll deal with later. I would indeed like to see him if that’s possible,” the Duke said.

Meanwhile, daily live had resumed in Southeastern Solaren. The situation was close to normal again. An important measure of the Eiffellandians was abolishing school fees so that education would be given for free. That cost a lot of money, but it was anticipated that that money would come back on the longer term in the form of economic growth. Also health care had been restructured, with a focus on prevention programs. Non‑smoking campaigns were started up. Also safe‑sex campaigns were started up and condoms were introduced to Southeastern Solaren, against the will of the Church.


Testono
Present day

The Eiffellandians were very pleased with the support by the Carentanians, who carried out precision bombings in the city and also gave other needed air support. The precision‑bombings carried out by the Carentanians had destroyed a lot of storages used by the radical factions.
The Eiffellandians were conquering the city quarter by quarter. That was difficult to do, because the radical militia had been able to place new mines at quite some places. Often machine gun fire sprayed out of the ruins. When that happened, a hand grenade was thrown into the ruins or a neighbouring tank sent a grenade into the ruins.
The Eiffellandians made progress, but it went slowly. Up to now, about 20% of the city had been conquered by the Eiffellandians. Not many people were captured, but that had mainly to do with the fanaticism of the radical militia. The city’s main water supply installation had been conquered by the Eiffellandians. It was possible to cut‑off the city’s water supply, but that did not happen because of the possible spread of contagious diseases. Instead, the waterworks remained filled.
Meanwhile, enormous amounts of wounded people were transported to the field hospitals in Southeastern Solaren, soldiers from both sides but also civilians and militia‑members. There were also many casualties, among the Solaris but also among the Eiffellandians. Furthermore, it could very often but not always be prevented that civilians were killed. The problem of the suicide bombers had been adequately dealt with. Now the soldiers used tasers against all civilians that ran to them. In that way, a lot of suicide bombers were stopped.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Outskirts of Torrance

The flurry of activity was immense. Solaris soldiers were busy packing away paintings, documents, and books. Cardinal Cortez's small palace, really more of a villa, was nearly packed full of soldiers helping to evacuate. The one quiet room at the moment was the dining room. Its tapestries had already been packed and the only thing remaining was the chandeliers and a large cherry wood table. At each end of the table sat two very different but very similar Cardinals. Cardinal Jose Rodrigo Cortez and Cardinal Blas Vivar sat, slowly eating their meal of lamb and fresh vegetables. Cortez slowly chewed his lamb. The two had been eating in silence for the past few minutes, the distant rumble of airstrikes rattling the chandeliers. Soon, either communist or EDF forces would be desecrating this dining room and making off with the silverware.

Cortez broke the silence. "This stays here of course but my sources tell me that Urban has been caught" said Cortez, shoveling more lamb into his mouth. Vivar blinked waiting for more. It was obvious Cortez was savoring the moment. Vivar put down his fork and knife and sat back, crossing his arms. "He was captured by Nicosians in the mountains. Holy Mother Church is in complete disarray" said Cortez. Vivar tried not to smile; the entire country was in disarray. The population under Solaris control were about to face a serious food crisis. The population in the North were slowly arming as well as the population in the South. The Solaris peninsula was ablaze with madness. Cortez continued eating. Vivar's eyes got big and seeing it, Cortez smiled and wiped his mouth. Cortez stood slowly, carrying his wine to the other end of the table. Cortez sat on the table, only a few feet from Vivar. "I need you Blas. You need me. If you come with me, we can build Holy Mother Church to new heights" said Cortez with a smile. Both of the men knew that Cortez really didn't care about the Church. Cortez just did not care about the institution. He cared about himself, his image. Vivar was never really sure if Cortez actually believed in the religion as he did. For the moment, it did not matter. Vivar needed Cortez's support to have himself and his banished counterparts accepted back into the loving arms of the Holy Church.

Vivar pushed his plate away and looked at Cortez. Vivar knew then, just then, that this man was a snake. However, Vivar also knew this man would be necessary in a post-war Solaren. "What will become of the Holy Father?" asked Vivar. Cortez opened his mouth and with a single gulp, finished his wine. "Urban will either hang or rot. He will not see Solaren again" said Cortez, standing upright. He walked to one of the several sets of double doors that dotted the large dining room. He opened it and looked out. The soldiers were now moving large cardboard boxes. He sighed and turned back to his guest. "My dear, dear Blas. We cannot be in Torrance when they come. We must be in the last of Free Solaren when the curtain closes" said Cortez with a smile that could make a mass murderer shiver.

 

[Rheinbund]

Testono

Apart from the “safe enclave” where the Solaris army and the civilians had fled to, the city was a ruin. Because of the militias of fanatics, the city had to be conquered block by block. And that procedure was often complicated by the mines that had been reinstalled. Most of them were dismantled by specialists who had to do their work while the bullets were flying around their ears. They were covered by the other soldiers, but that did not always help. Some of the mine dismantling specialists were killed—by the bullets, not by the mines.
Still the Eiffellandians did not manage to make many prisoners. The fanatics fought themselves to death. And the suicide bombers tried to fight themselves to death but didn’t succeed thanks to the tasers the Eiffellandians carried. Sometimes the soldiers recognised the suicide bomber that was running at them, because they had tased the same suicide bomber a couple of days earlier. Real bullets were used against people carrying weapons. And also against machine gun nests.
Tanks were rolling into the city to destroy bullwarks of the fanatics. Some tanks fell victim to the anti‑tank equipment the fanatics appeared to have, but apart from that bullwark after bullwark was destroyed.
The Eiffellandians enjoyed success, but that success came at a high price. There were many casualties and even more wounded. The mines had taken their toll of limbs, and the Eiffellandian surgeons often failed to attach those limbs again. The worst were the soldiers who had lost parts of their faces. Generalleutnant Westfeld had already decided not to celebrate this victory, but he became more and more convinced that that decision was the right one. Meanwhile, 50% of the city had been conquered.

While the fightings in other parts of the city were still raging, excavators, shovels, bulldozers and sand trucks were cleaning up the debris to make the roads to the harbour free. That harbour, or better its remnants, had not been conquered yet, but the roads to the harbour were already prepared so that the Carentanians would be able to send in their equipment for the conquest of Torrence. Furthermore, a refugee camp was built outside Testono to house the civiilians, who had lost or were about to loose everything they possessed. The first refugees from Testono already arrived in that camp.

Matthias Weiß fought an enormously stressful battle but managed to stay alive. And unwounded.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Liparo, Central Solaren

The small crossroads town of Liparo was being transformed. At the foot of La Spina, Liparo had played many minor roles in history but was not internationally recognized for achievement. With only 10,000 residents, Liparo was a quiet little city. The biggest employer had been a textile mill but now most of the men had gone off to war. At the center of town was the proud city hall, built with donations from the textile mill in the 1980's. Its gray marble floor made the sound of the footsteps echo as the two Cardinals made their way through the lobby and up the modest staircase. Cortez and Vivar had arrived at an important moment. Liparo was quickly becoming a center of the Solaris Church. Torrance was beginning to feel the strain and like Cortez, many senior clergymen had begun to flee. Some, had stayed. The line in Torrance was being drawn between politicians and clergy. For years, the lines were blurry.

Now, with many of Urban's right hands either fleeing, captured or dead; who exactly was running unconquered Solaren was unclear. Who was running the church was equally unclear. Jose Rodrigo Cortez was one of the few non-political leaders in the Church and one of the most respected. Few knew that he was really a snake and probably the truly most ambitious man in the Church. Those that knew him never really understood if he was truly religious or just considered the clergy as a path to power. Bishop Antony Gulota was as political as he was religious. In his youth, he had been a fanatic. Now, he was almost as fanatical. In his late 50's, Gulota had spent the last 6 years in charge of the Morality Enforcement Service, Urban's private police force. The Morality Service was well known for spying on Solarens and taking them away. Once taken, few were ever heard from again. Rumors of secret prisons were rampant. Now, Gulota had been quietly placed himself in charge of the Holy Interior Ministry and to an extent, Solaren. It was not something the other Cardinals agreed with but many accepted it. Cortez was not one to accept things that displeased him.

"My dear Blas, you must understand something. This nation is not what it was when you left. Proud Cardinals such as yourself have become either sheep or wolves. You, are a sheepdog and protect the people that are the sheep. Holy mother church has been controlled by a wolf and he placed all the power in the hands of other wolves. Sheep dogs were hunted until it was only wolves and sheep. I intend to be a wolf to protect the sheep dogs" said Cortez to Vivar as they had exited their small car. Now, ascending the stairs, the two headed for what had been the Mayor's office, trailed by the entourage. In the days before, Blas watched in amazement as Cortez had taken over a small and isolated villa. Cortez simply handed the elderly homeowner several large stacks of money. When he awoke the next day, Cardinal Blas Vivar was shocked to see that their were two guards standing outside his door, each of them wearing brown berets with a sky blue ribbon. "The new Cardinal's guard, do you like them?" Cortez had asked with a small smile. Over the days, Cortez had acquired quite the number of assistants and bodyguards. He had spent much of his time attempting to track down bishops, abbots, and of course those who wore the red.

Now, Vivar and Cortez stood outside the former office for the mayor of Liparo. Gulota's secretaries and bodyguards, clad in disgusting forest green suits, had been quieted by threat of automatic weapons from the uniformed Cardinal's guard. Cortez simply opened the door slowly and stepped in. Vivar followed cautiously. Vivar had learned that for now, the time for questions was often after the fact. The floor was covered in an awful black and white checkered linoleum and the gray metal desk was cluttered with folders, loose paper, and a half eaten ham sandwich.

Behind the desk sat Gulota, speaking into a cheap black phone. His eyes flicked up and upon registering who had intruded, Gulota stopped talking immediately. Without a word, he put down the phone. "You cannot just barge in here. This is now an official ministerial office of His Holiness's government" said Gulota. Vivar turned to look at Cortez. His eyebrow was arched and his head shook side to side slowly. "Tisk tisk tisk" began Cortez, smoothing out his wine red cossack vestment. "Now my dear Bishop, you forget yourself. I am a Cardinal, appointed by the will of the Almighty" finished Cortez, holding up his arm which was bent at a 90 degree angle and palm open. Gulota's face twisted at the sarcastic statement. "Now, we have some issues to discuss" finished Cortez, sitting in the cheap wooden chair in front of the desk. "Who is HE?" asked Gulota, pointing to Vivar who was dressed in the garb of a simple priest. Cortez looked at Vivar in the manner of a father looking at his child, waiting for him to apologize. At that moment, Vivar finally knew he completely and wholly disliked Cortez and everything he stood for. "I am Cardinal Blas Vivar, formally exiled by His Holiness" said Vivar taking a seat in the other cheap chair. "Exiled? This is preposterous. I will have you both arrested at once!" roared Gulota, standing.

"SIT DOWN BISHOP!" said Cortez. Vivar was even suprised. Cortez had jumped out of his seat as well and jammed his finger in Gulota's chest. Gulota stepped back and the door opened. One of Cortez's guards stepped inside the room and the two Cardinals watched as the Bishop's eyes grew wide. "I am the Minister of the Interior and you both have just dug your graves. Vivar looked up at Cortez who was still standing. Cortez slowly began to shake his head. "You know who I am, what I can still control. Do you know what I know, I know everything Cardinal. I know about that whore. So you listen, and you listen hard. You will walk out that door and go back to whatever hole you climbed out of before the Solaris people find out the truth" said Gulota, sitting and crossing his arms. "I....am the people" said Cortez, producing several folded sheets and holding them dramatically in front of his face. "Let me see, let me see.......blah blah blah....charged with blah blah blah........ah here it is. I, Holy Justice of the Court Paul Oscarri, have found Antony Gulota guilty (in absentia) of crimes against the church and treason. Antony Gulota is sentenced to the maximum penalty......."

BANG BANG BANG

The guardsmen fired three 9mm rounds into the chest of Gulota whose face was one of shock. Cortez dropped the sheets onto the desk. Vivar had not known about this. He was almost as shocked as Gulota. Vivar only hoped he had not created a golem.

 

[Rheinbund]

Testono

The city was in the hands of the Eiffellandians, apart from the “safe enclave” where the Solaris army and the civilians had fled to. Or better said, the remnants of what used to be a large and proud city were in the hands of the Eiffellandians. Like Generalleutnant Westfeld had expected, the city could only be taken by completely shooting it to pieces. All inhabitants of the city had become homeless or were about to become homeless when the attack on the “safe enclave” would start.
In the parts of the city that had been conquered, all the ruins were cleared away, so that they could not be used to start a guerrilla‑war as soon as the attention had been weakened. The archives at the city hall had been found, completely with pictures of how the city looked like. As far as possible, it was the intention to rebuild Testono like it was before the war.
The harbour of Testono had come under severe attack during the first phases of the battle. The bombardments had mainly been focused on the warehouses of the harbour, but the wharfs had been hit as well. A lot had to be done to make the harbour usable again. And the harbour needed to be usable soon, so that the Carentanians could unload the equipment they needed for the battle of Torrence. Quickly but thoroughly the damage to the harbour was measured. Materials and equipment were ordered so that the harbour could be rebuilt soon.
The “safe enclave” had been surrounded. The sewers were guarded with cameras so that people trying to escape through them would be immediately discovered. Closing them was not an option, because that would be a guarantee for a massive outbreak of diseases. The plans of the sewers throughout the city were also in the hands of the Eiffellandians. Soldiers equipped with antiseptic suits and oxygen cilinders were positioned on strategic places so that they could rapidly go into the sewer when anyone tried to escape through there.
Cans with fresh water were dropped above the “safe enclave” again. This time with a note: “The attack will begin at a timepoint determined by us. We will be lenient if you unconditionally surrender before that timepoint. If you don’t surrender, we will attack. We will do everything we can to spare civilians when we attack, but we can’t guarantee that we will always succeed in that. Surrender unconditionally, because you don’t have a chance.”


Southeastern Solaren

The Eiffellandians had demonstrated to be lenient masters. That had helped in stabilising Southeastern Solaren. Most Solaris people had accepted the new situation, and life had become more or less normal again. Partisans and insurgents had been dealt with.

But not with all of them.

Soon after the news about the capture of Pope Urban became known, riots arose in some cities. Especially the ones in Tegeata were severe. It took several days before everything was quiet again.

Meanwhile, a small group of radicals was preparing something.

 

[Rheinbund]

Testono

Lieutenant Matthias Weiß had learned one thing in this war: Everything is always different from what you learned at the military academy. And nothing could have prepared him for a situation in which the warriors can’t be distinguished from the civilians. He knew that he and his men had shot several civilians. He didn’t blame himself for that. Both the fanatics and the regular soldiers had dressed themselves like civilians, and often there was simply no time to check whether the “civilian” carried a gun or not. Matthias considered it a miracle that the number of casualties under civilians had stayed relatively low, given the circumstances. But nevertheless, the fact that he had shot civilians was something he would carry with him for the rest of his life.
The Battle for Testono had ended. The Eiffellandians were victorious, but at a large price. Matthias had lost a quarter of his men. Another quarter had to be treated for severe injuries. The city had been shot to pieces. A few buildings were still standing, but none without damage. The inhabitants of what used to be Testono had become homeless. A refugee camp had been built near the city. Matthias and his remaining men assisted in leading the survivors to the refugee camp, and in maintaining order there.
There were so many corpses, that it had become impossible to identify them all. The soldiers could easily be identified by means of their identity discs, but it took too much time to search the deceased civilians for anything that could give an indication of their identity — much to the regrets of the Eiffellandians. There was a very big chance that the people gone missing were dead, but there was still room for uncertainty about that. The question “is he really dead” would haunt the survivors during their whole lives.
The only way to prevent that the many corpses would cause an outbreak of diseases was to bury them in mass graves. This happened to both the known and the unknown victims. Plans for a monument were already made. On that monument, the names of bothe the dead and the missing people would appear. It would also be indicated on that monument if a person gone missing appeared to have survived. Also the rebuilding of Testono was planned.
But those plans would be carried out later. Now the Eiffellandians were busy with repairing the seaport of Testono and clearing the debris from the main roads so that the Carentanians could transport the people and equipement they would need for the Battle of Torrence.
Humanitarian aid was sent to the refugee camp near Testono. It was a huge logistical operation to get food and water for several hundreds of thousands of people on the spot, but the Eiffellandians managed to do so. Preparations were made to tackle a possible outbreak of diseases. Fresh water was distributed in enormous amounts. Sea water was used for flushing the toilets, and purified sea water was used for showering and washing clothes. There were also huge field hospitals in the refugee camp.


Southeastern Testono

One of the consequences of the war had been hyperinflation in Solaren. Meanwhile, the Solaris Lira was worth nothing. Apart from the fact that it was unclear whether the Solaris National Bank could still guarantee the value of the Solaris Lira, it had become more difficult to get all necessary goods into Solaren from a logistical point of view. Military and civilian supplies had to compete with the harbours’ capacities to handle cargo. Soon after Southeastern Solaren had been occupied, a distribution system was put into force. Everything was under distribution for the Solaris. Priority was given to vegetables, bread, water and milk, so that the Solaris would not starve. As a result, other products (like sugar, coffee, tea, but also clothing and fuel) were scarce.
This could, however, not prevent the Solaris Lira from loosing its value. Because of that, a new currecny had been introduced in Southeastern Solaren: The Southeastern Lira. This currency was backed by the Eiffellandian Central Bank. It was also clear that this could be done by Eiffelland only for Southeastern Solaren, not for hte remainder.