Striking the Balance

Discussion in 'The World Stage' started by Beautancus, Jul 24, 2010.

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  1. Beautancus

    Beautancus Well-Known Member

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    ISSN (Imperial Submarine- Nuclear)-777, Awangarda (Vanguard)
    Eastern Implarian, 600 miles southwest of St. George, Freiheit
    2200 Makai Time​


    As was tradition in nearly every submarine service on the planet, much of the hull of the Vanguard was choked with tobacco smoke. Combined with the spectral green and red lights of the various monitors lining either side of the CIC, creating an otherworldly atmosphere that only further punctuated the gravity of the mission that the crew of the Sarmatian Empire's premier nuclear submarine had been tasked with.

    Wiceadmirał Kazimierz Ostrogski glanced down over the shoulder of the Comm-Officer, satisfied with the pace that the Vanguard, and her two sister subs were making their approach of the southwestern coast of the rogue-state of Freiheit. Originally set to patrol the Western Implarian for the next six months, protecting now vital routes to the Imperial enclave of Cenubixazariya- an infant "nation" carved out of the battered hide of Milliyetci Barazi. As far as anyone outside of the Imperial Secretariat of War knew- the entire "troop surge" was still on its way to Barazi, or already there in part. Such was most assuredly not the case- and had not been for two days.

    Having chewed upon the rather cheap Wazistani cigar for the better part of two hours, Ostrogski discarded it for another, and paced to the next terminal- helmed by another communications officer, this one responsible for monitoring all the pertinent Freiheiter military channels, and all the major civilian channels as well. Thus far it was impossible for the Wolnyniemcy (Free-Germans) to know what was coming for them, and it was debatable that they would be able to determine that even after the fact.

    When the Imperial Oikawan Embassy in Stary Hrodino had passed off satellite imagery of the Niemcy moving the nuclear weapons that by all rights should have passed into the more than capable hands of the Rus' to silos in their mountainous region, and into heretofore undiscovered sites under their major metropolitan areas. It was a gamble all in all- but one that the Empire- and in truth, the world- could not afford to pass upon, with the threat that "loose nukes" presented to civilization as a whole.

    Marszałek Rola had ordered every available vessel, including a full Carrier Task-Force and the considerable weight of the Vanguard and her sisters into the Eastern Implarian, and had gone so far as to contact Ostrogski personally. The Imperial Secretary of War had not failed to impress the importance of this mission upon him either. The Vice-Admiral smiled around his new cigar- he supposed that Rola hadn't finally attained that post by virtue of charisma alone.

    Whatever the case, the Vanguard and her sisters were well within striking range of their targets- half of the silos in the Grau Mountains, and St. George, where every major key point of infrastructure (that was yet still intact) had been carefully targeted and accounted for, in some cases designated for more than one "barrage." Ostrogski had been issued orders for such an operation years ago, when he was still a Kapitan- and he'd studied them closely then, and again now. He had been provided with an extended plan of action for operations in this region of the world again two years prior- though truthfully, that plan had been drafted with Anglyn and Guiana in mind, not Freiheit. Still, they would serve well enough now.

    Checking his own pocket watch against the various clocks scattered around the CIC, the Imperial Vice-Admiral finally paused to light his cigar. Rolling the roughly rolled tobacco around above his lighter, he found himself paying closer than usual attention to the way the tobacco twisted and warped beneath the heat. There'd be a lot of that going around soon.

    "All stop." Though he had spoken quietly, seeming more a whisper amidst the various clamor of the CIC (though all of that was human in origin, as the sub itself was more or less silent), nearly every ear within fifteen feet of him had clearly discerned that simple command. Silence and stillness overtook the Vanguard, alone save for her sisters in the depths of the Implarian. "Bring us up to firing depth Mr. Slupski."

    "Aye aye, Skipper." Though he was most positive that the other submarines in his attack group were doing the same, the Vice-Admiral forced himself to check with his Deck-Officer, perched behind the Electronic Warfare and Countermeasures Suite, just to satisfy the irritating, mocking, child-like voice that had grown to a shriek behind his eyes. Though they'd all been running under a virtual communication's-blackout, it was still possible for each of the subs to keep track of their siblings by virtue of the GPS tracking systems that were included in their EWCS, and which would remain online until just minutes before the missile hatches along the spine of the sub's blew open.

    Taking the ascent slowly, and carefully, the Vanguard would have plenty of time to react to any sudden developments from the Niemcy, though again, that was as unlikely as the sub "springing a leak all on its own." Ostrogski and men like him had the unique chance to import all that was good in the Sarmatian martial tradition into this new Imperial Culture- whilst completely abandoning the chaff, and such would be accomplished with displays of the utmost professionalism in situations just like this one.

    "Wladysław, how's the feed from those drones?" Several flights of Reconnaissance Drones had been launched some hours prior, to double-check the pre-calculated firing solutions that the individual subs had been issued by the Imperial War-Marine's Admiralty- and were sure to be more accurate, likely down the ten-thousandths place, than anything the sub's computers would be able to string together. Again though, thorough professionalism would assure the future dominance of the Empire above all else.

    "Clean and clear Skipper. ETA seven minutes to Primary Targets."

    "Very good. If anything at all changes- if it looks like a heavy wind is going to compromise those solutions, I want to know, and five minutes before it happens."

    Stalking back down the other side of the CIC, Ostrogski went over the status of the Vanguard's primary payload- a compliment of ten retrofitted Trójząb-II (Trident II) SLBM's, lacking a conventional package of multiple warheads, they were instead outfitted with a super-dense tungsten core with a delayed reaction HE submunitions packet- creating a submarine launched kinetic impact weapon more than capable of completely compromising the Niemcy's missile silos in the Grau's with a concentrated impact of 130,000 lbs of super-dense metal and high explosives. The remaining six SLBM's were outfitted with more..."unconventional" loads, in case of the need for an overwhelming retaliatory strike at a later point in this campaign. The payloads for the Vanguard's sister subs were identical, and were reckoned capable "of doing the job" in one fell swoop.

    Ostrogski was so absorbed in his last minute checks that the reported seven minutes slipped by almost unnoticed. With a great rush, the Vanguard had broken through the waves, now 560 miles off the coast of Freiheit. There was an eerie calm, nearly matching that within a funeral parlor, as the crew made their last minute preparations, and a string of last minute transmissions were made between the vessels in the group, which included three attack-sub escorts, alongside the Vanguard's two identical sisters.

    "Increase speed by four knots on our current bearing for another...minute and a half- and then make ready." Ostrogski consulted his watch again, and inhaled deeply from the cheap cigar he was now again furiously chewing upon. His mind crept back across the Implarian, and across the vast expanse of Tōyō, to Stary Hrodino, where a veritable army of technicians and satellite officers were no doubt engaged in a activity of a similar nature and intensity. That was more of a calculated move than these initial submarine-based attacks, but would likely send an even more resounding message to Freiheit- and the world. Ostrogski didn't know how many ICBM's the Secretariat of War was devoting to this attack, but he didn't doubt that it would be a significant number- enough to convince the Niemcy that they'd embarked upon an entirely foolish path to self-destruction.

    At last the moment had arrived. Vice-Admiral Ostrogski felt himself, and heard himself giving the orders to "blow" the missile hatches. He heard himself double-checking that the missiles were "hot." And he paused, a great cloud of vanilla-scented tobacco smoke swirling around his leonine head. "Fire on my mark."

    Those few seconds drew out into an eternity, as the true breadth of what he was accomplishing here today exploded upon his consciousness. How would the men of tomorrow judge him, and his actions in this moment? Surely, he would be remembered well in his beloved homeland...but how many thousands, how many tens of thousands of Niemcy would soon perish in fire, and under the crushing weight of their own buildings? How would they remember Vice-Admiral Kazimierz Ostrogski? And in that instant, the unrepentant "Imperial" smiled, a serene savagery overcoming his soul, as it had so many of his counterparts throughout the history of the Sarmatian people.

    "...two...one...mark."

    And the initial volley of 15 penetrator-missiles roared up from all three of the submarines in the Vanguard's attack group- lancing out at Freistadt, St. George and the southern cluster of nuclear missile silos in the Grau Mountains. The tremendous growl of destructive force that washed down the hull of the Vanguard, and up into the feet of the nearly ecstatic Vice-Admiral was beyond description. The sheer might that he had unleashed with a word was the sweetest drug he'd yet tasted, and he rightly couldn't wait for the next opportunity to rain destruction on these uncouth, mute barbarians.
     
  2. Beautancus

    Beautancus Well-Known Member

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    Strategic Missile Command
    Mount Koswinski, West-Central Greater Sarmatia
    1600 Sarmatian Central Standard Time​


    The atmosphere in the cavernous headquarters of what was arguably the Empire's most powerful martial service had grown well beyond tense some few days ago, when the first copies of the satellite images the Oikawans had passed along arrived. Everyone present at that conference had immediately known what it meant for them- and for their nation. This was an eventuality that they had been remotely aware of, though it had been assumed that the Rus' would resolve the situation, or would be moving upon it already...which, apparently they were not.

    Though the level of activity hadn't been nearly as intense as that experienced by the crew of the Vanguard and her fellows, it had highly stressful- to say the very least. Similar levels of smoke as that found on each of those subs could be found in nearly every chamber and cavity in Mount Koswinski- and nearly every curse available in Sarmatian, Khazar, and Ziv could be found wafting along the thermal drafts of the network of serpentine shafts carved into the heart of the great mountain.

    The strain on the staff of the Strategic Missile Command had only been increased- by several hundred fold- with the arrival of not only Marszałek Rola, but Korona-Książę (Crown-Prince) Tadeusz as well. The presence of the former had been expected- but the presence of the latter was as great a shock as could have been given. The man was amiable enough, and was doing his level best to stay out of the way- while still observing the various comings and goings around him. Rola, on the other hand, was taking a very active role operations, and was currently engaged in a lengthy- and rather heated "discussion" with the commanding officer of one of the launch-facilities that would be involved in this "operation."

    Porucznik Andrea Wladymyrówna, the most junior officer assigned to Strategic Missile Command in its long history, was awestruck by the whole affair. Surely, it was the most stressful experience she'd ever undergone in her life- and she'd been a part of the staff responsible for the thermobaric bombing of the Milliyetci Regime's most important structures in that war. It had been her superb performance in that conflict that had earned her this assignment- and now, less than three months(?) beyond the resounding victory in that war, here she was again- responsible for communications with her former launch facility.

    Abstractly, she knew what sort of destruction she would be assisting in unleashing upon an unsuspecting nation half-way across the world. Abstractly. She had even seen some of the footage taken at "ground-zero" for the most intensive bombing in the Barazi War...but she'd forced herself not to form an emotional response. She was doing her level best to do the same now- but was slowly failing.

    She hadn't smoked before she'd come here, to Mount Koswinski, but had now taken to the habit with the zeal of most new converts. Shakily, she managed to pull another cigarette from the pack stashed just below her monitor and sparked it to life. She too glanced at her watch, this one a cheap wrist-watch mass-produced in some Far Eastern sweatshop on behalf of some fancy, foo-foo Danziger. Three minutes.

    Three minutes before...she didn't recall exactly how many, 28 maybe...10 ton fuel-air "conventional" packages to various targets throughout Freiheit. There'd been rumors that those last three would have something more than a conventional payload- with the debate ranging from nerve gas to some white phosphorous super-explosive. Andrea feared it would be the former...the Empire had one of the most extensive Biological and Chemical Weapons Divisions of any military in the world- and it was only logical for them to flex those muscles now as well.

    "Porucznik Wladymyrówna!" The voice that snarled behind her was much like gravel rolling down a granite hillside, and surprised her so badly that she dropped her cigarette altogether.

    "Sitrep." She wasn't familiar enough with the Pułkownik that loomed over her to know how to proceed with him, so she simply reverted to OCS standard lingo, rattling off the vague statistics that indicated that "her" launch facility was prepped and ready- and would be "popping hot" in forty-five seconds.

    "Well enough Porucznik, carry on. And enjoy the fireworks...and don't let that cigarette burn out."

    Andrea blushed and scrambled for the cigarette, and then transfixed her gaze on the screen before her. Almost lost in the stream of seamlessly updating statistics, the crackle on the other end of the channel her headset was attuned to again startled her.

    "Andrea?" The tinny voice called through the static. It was her on-again-off-again lover, Hannibal van der Merwe- the XO of "her" launch facility.

    "We're almost there Andrea..."

    "Indeed we are Ham..." With five seconds to spare, Andrea activated her final readiness indicator, and exhaled sharply as those dozens of missile silos scattered across the vast grass-sea of central Sarmatia flamed to life, massive semi-divine columns of ruin pushing up through the air, trailing great pillars of milky smoke- into the lower atmosphere, where they lost a portion of their mass and their secondary engines took over their propulsion.

    Roaring down on the already chaotic nation, and targeting the largest military installations in Freiheit, the government and civil service centers of St. George and Gilrae. Some several thousand feet above the surface of the earth the individual missiles seemed to explode- only to have several smaller, but equally murderous fuel-air explosive and VX gas warheads tumbling down over the two aforementioned cities, and the ruins of Freistadt, a deathly mist brushing gingerly across the face of the nation's major metropolitan areas.
     
  3. Sheridan

    Sheridan New Member

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    Admiral Anthony Huit looked at the charts laid out on his desk. He was the Admiral of the FNS Shveer, one of the few Aircraft carriers in the Freiheitian navy. He joined the navy becuase of his famly tradition of naval service, hell that was the biggest reason people had for joining Freiheits military.

    "Sir, the fleet is ready to move out." spoke one of the lesser officers walking by his open door.

    "Great, tell them to pull up the anchors, cause we're moving out in five minutes." The fleet of ships consisted of 1 aircraft carrier, 1 amphibious assualt ship, 2 destroyers, and 1 battleship. Hofheim had promised sub support until the fleet had passed Tyrilse The fleet was decent size, bu Huit doubted it would even make an impact on the Sarmatian navy. The goal of this strike was to get to Groszow, onc ethey were there the amphibous ship would drop off its soldiers, while the Shveer's aircraft would start bombing the city. If they coudl take the city they could start making some dents in the Sarmatian defences.

    As he felt the ship start to move, he sighed. There was a huge chance that none of these ships would even make it to Sarmatia. Thankfully most of the soldiers didn't share Huit's pesismistic look on this war. Freiheit was furious, and the soldiers were equally as furious. Freiheit didn't exactly have a history of surrendering, but then again they had never faced missiles coming from across the ocean.
     
  4. Touzen

    Touzen Administrator Staff Member

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    "It seems that the satellite images that we have submitted have proven to be quite successful in assisting our Sarmatian friends in their endeavors, I take it. Sure are some fireworks."

    "You could say so. Even neglecting the Freedom State's media hyperbole, one does not have to be an expert to assess that the damage caused to their installations quite clearly crippled their retaliatory abilities. They won't be able to bring the fight anywhere. The fight will come to them."

    The admiral switched off the array of screens in the back of the room that, in silent mode, showed dozens of news programs from all over Europe, all showing the same images of smoke and fire in Freiheit over and over again.

    "Even then, while this whole Freiheit business is well, not our business, it seems as if it might come to turn into our business. The Freedom State, located strategically to our east, does not pose a threat to the Empire, but an unchecked influence of other great powers in the area could prove to be a liability to the Empire that, especially considering the security situation in Jizhou, we cannot risk. The Eastern Sea must continue to be a green area for the Imperial security system. Seen this?"

    The admiral flicked over a newspaper. The other, younger man, gave him a questioning look before taking a glance at the headline detailing the offer of the Commandry to aid the government of the Freedom State with dealing with the effects of the latest attacks.

    "So they are in this as well."

    The admiral nodded firmly.

    "So what do you propose?"

    "Invasion is out of question. Both in the eyes of our population as well as the international community. Instead, we will assist the Sarmatian operations indirectly - on the seas, in the skies. If we can cripple their commerce it should suffice to give us a beneficiary position in the postwar settlement. And that settlement surely won't see the same regime in Freiheit still in power. Even then, we will have to be prepared to stack up our efforts should a change in the situation require it."

    "And when will you present this proposal to Yoshikawa?"

    The admiral smirked.

    "His Excellency is already fully involved in the planning of this operation. In fact, the preparations have already begun."
     
  5. Frescania

    Frescania New Member

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    OCW Autokrata/ISS Autocrat
    Eastern Implarian Ocean


    The smoke from his cigarette rose slowly towards the ceiling as he looked outside at the Sarmatian fleet. He could hear everyone carrying out their tasks as the Implarian waves hit the ship.

    His black coat covered him completely, showing no sign from where he came from with the exception of a small letter with the Coat of Arms of the Republic for verification purposes with Sarmatian authorities. He had been warned about this job before he took it: he would destroy any evidence connecting him to the Republic and would not be rescued if he was captured, even if the chances of getting caught by the enemy were small.

    Even as an observer, he knew that el ministro and PUFA were already well informed of the situation via their satellites, in fact, he was willing to be the Tysk representative that was sharing the same room as him knew this. He had gotten along with him, but since the show had began, he had been silent.

    He finished his cigar and put it down as another wave hit the ship. He was starting to like the Implarian Ocean.

    Ministry of Defense
    Frescania


    “As you can see, the damage done by the Sarmatian attack will surely make the situation harder for the Freedom State's military capabilities.”

    “Not only this, but the country's government is in a chaotic mode. They have already stated the Otchis can have their own nation if they help them fight Sarmatia.”

    Rodriguez looked at the images giving to him by the army. He could only see the destruction from the sky, yet combine with news from all over Europe showing the attacks with its own accord, he could see the destruction more clearly.

    “Didn't Tibur and Zivotinje join?”

    “Yes Mr. Secretary. Zivotinje and the Holy Tiburian Empire have joined Sarmatia. The latter due to an alliance, while the former was done due to solidarity. We can only assume the Freedom State will be crippled quickly.”

    “And what about our northern ally?”

    “We are still in contact with them regarding what Hertha should do.”

    Rodriguez got up and gathered the papers in front of him.

    “Good, keep me in touch with the situation and let me know what they say. General Santander, come with me, we are to inform the president about this.”
     
  6. Collectivist Union

    Collectivist Union New Member

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    The Palace of the Imperators, Monteferrato

    The Holy Tiburan Empire of Oltremare, Italo-Sarmatia


    10:00 Local Time, 25/7/2010

    "So... gentlemen and ladies of this council, we are officially at war with the Germanic Freedom State of Freiheit, as my Imperial Chancellor has informed me." were the opening words to the meeting now taking place in the hallowed halls of the Palace of the Imperators.

    The mood was subdued, almost gloomy, helped in part by the images of destruction in the major cities of Freiheit that were displayed on the telescreens surrounding the people involved. Initial reactions to the images had ranged from shock to pity, the overall reaction voiced best by the Imperial Marshal, Stanisław Dormanski, "Our allies are quite brutal."

    The Holy Tiburan Emperor of Oltremare, Francesco VII, had remained silent leading up to this meeting, masking his true feelings on the subject behind a business-like demeanor, albeit a very tense one. The truth was, he did not desire war with Freiheit, and felt his ally's pre-emptive strike was wholly unnecessary. But he knew also, that with Freiheit's declaration of war, the Holy Tiburan Empire would have to honor the obligations of the old alliance between the two Sarmatian states. To do otherwise was unthinkable, unacceptable.

    "Marhsal Dormanski, does Freiheit have any ability to bring the war to our shores?"

    The Sarmatian Admiral leaned forward, "By themselves, Your Imperial Tiburan Majesty? No, I believe any capability they once had has been completely neutralized by the Empire of Greater Sarmatia. The conflict should be restricted to their land, sea and air."

    Francesco nodded in approval. "Excellent, and how goes our mobilization of the armed forces?"

    Here the Marshal grimaced for a brief moment. "According to schedule, Your Imperial Tiburan Majesty. However, it will take some time before we will be able to send any forces abroad to Freiheit, considering the distances involved, our lack of notable, friendly stop-offs between our nation and Freiheit, and the simple fact that initial forces will not be very significant. For now, this will be our ally's war, and the best we can offer at this time is support."

    "I doubt they will be very angry about that Marshal. As long as we make sincere efforts towards supporting their expeditions, they will be happy." the Imperial Chancellor, Giuseppe Emmanuel, remarked. "I am somewhat concerned though, Your Imperial Tiburan Majesty, about what the international world will do. No matter how unpopular Freiheit's regime actually is, we are not well-loved ourselves, and our ally is making their way into the same situation day-by-day."

    Francesco VII nodded in agreement, as he had the same concerns himself. In fact, those had been his greatest concerns surrounding war with the Germanic nation. "Your concerns are shared by me, Chancellor. However, my Constable informs me that those concerns, while they cannot be simply dismissed, can be diminished, if you would explain Constable?"

    Enrico Vizzini, the Imperial Constable, folded his hands before responding, "Certainly, Your Imperial Tiburan Majesty. Recent reports regarding the Empire of Greater Oikawa have indicated that they are sympathetic to our cause. Any efforts in the Council of Nations beyond a simple condemnation will likely be stalled by their ambassador, and declarations of war against us by third parties should be deterred by Oikawa's support. For now at least, we should be safe against serious reprisals."

    Francesco sighed, in relief? Sadness? Even he couldn't tell at this point. "Then our mobilizations will continue at full speed. Let us pray, councilmen and women, that this war is prosecuted swiftly, so that there is minimal loss of life, and great gains for the forces of good."

    As those assembled bowed their heads in prayer, Francesco darkly thought, 'Hm, "minimal loss of life"? Unlikely, with the Sarmatian dogs of war unleashed...'
     
  7. Pohjanmaa

    Pohjanmaa Well-Known Member

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    OCW Autokrata/ISS Autocrat
    Eastern Implarian Ocean
    Marcel Müller was the man sitting next to his counterpart from Frescania. The Frescanian smoked a cigarette. He didn't smoke like most Tysk citizens because the Government played such an active role in trying to eliminate cigarettes during the Communist Era. It was a fairly successful campaign, but people now took out their frustrations with beer or vodka. Although it was nice to occasionally have some Frescanian wine. Something he had been hoping that the Frescanian had brought along with him for the ride.

    Müller opened his flask and took a swig of his vodka. He was trying not to finish it so quickly because he was worried that the Autocrat's mess hall wouldn't have anymore. Plus it was not standard to be drunk on the job, tipsy was okay though.

    Closing his flask he remembered when he heard the reports of the damage and he was shocked. He didn't think total war existed anymore. His own grandfather had died in the Great War and he had heard the stories from his grandfather's mates who occasionally showed up when he was young to see how his father was holding up with grandmother. Apparently some things in the world never changed. He had yet to contact his superiors, but in all honesty he wasn't in a hurry. They had the satellite coverage and likely been able to see the damage first hand. A report on his observations likely wouldn't be needed aside from the official aspect that he was actually doing a job and to get paid he'd need to file a report.

    Finally closing the flask tight, he put it into his pants pocket. Unlike his Frescanian counterpart he wore a more traditional outfit for a man in the Navy. His uniform was a dark navy blue and featured badges of his rank and name.

    Marcel turned to his counterpart and finally asked, "So how do you feel about this so far? Does it not strike you as wrong?"​
     
  8. Breotonia

    Breotonia Forum Elder

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    ISS Jan Husz
    Eastern Implarian Ocean


    Vice Admiral Ackerson stood inside the control room of the Samartian destroyer. While it was an older vessel, Mniszech-class he was told, it had been updated to serve as an electronic warfare ship which meant there were some distinct advantages to Ackerson being on this ship as opposed to some of the other warships in the area. The Vice Admiral was leading a team of Breotish to observe the naval aspects of the conflict. Calling it a team was probably somewhat misleading considering it consisted on only three men, Ackerson included. The other two men were is adjutant and a naval officer with an engineering background. Given the Jan Husz's capabilities of an electronic warfare/command ship Ackerson was afforded the closest thing to a god's eye view of the whole affair. It was also necessary that the Breotish be on one of the smaller more out of the way vessels. There presence was to be kept as secret as possible and there were other foreigner's observing.

    They had arrived only hours earlier. Having flown from Lunden to a carrier task force on patrol in the Implarian and then taking a helicopter from the aircraft carrier HMS Armageddon's Edge to the Samartian fleet.

    The general purpose of their observation was no different than any other nation's. To see how the battle played out and make notes of what was successful and what wasn't and come away with a keener understanding of how naval tactics will need to evolve. At the same time there was a more specific concern. Breotonia was in the middle of constructing the world's first 21st Century battleship. The keel of the HMS Valiant had just been set down and its slow creation was underway. Battleships had been largely absent the seen of major naval conflicts since the Great War where they had been usurped by aircraft carriers. If Ackerson wanted his country's newest endeavor to succeed he would have to learn what he could here. Any of his findings would be taken into consideration in the Valiant's construction.

    Satellite imagery had shown the presence of an older battleship possibly setting sail with the rest of Freiheitian naval group being formed to meet the incoming Samartians. If it did indeed take part in the engagement every expectation was that it would quickly succumb to missile fire but the chance to learn something was too great to pass up. As soon as he had learned of it Ackerson had the Defense Minister contact Greater Sarmatia and see if a Breotish presence could be arranged. He was happy to find that they were willing to accommodate them.

    His pocket vibrated and he turned away from the screens. Reaching into his jacket he withdrew something like a cellphone though it was somewhat bulkier than any civilian model. It was, in fact, a satellite phone with the capability to makes calls globally and securely. He excused himself from the room and exited to the deck.

    He answered, "Is this line secure?"

    Harold Simm, the Defense Minister, replied, "Yes. Are things going as expected?"

    "Yes sir. I'm aboard the Jan Husz. Our guests are being very accommodating."

    "Good. This whole affair is rather lucky."

    Ackerson glanced about him just in case he was being overheard, "And the other affair?"

    "As planned. Colonel Hadley has a special forces team doing practice runs at Camp Currahee right now. They've built a replica of the necessary parts of the Defense Ministry. It's rather impressive on such short notice."

    "So it's been decided that we'll do it there? I still think the prime minister's residence would be easier."

    "No, if we do it at the ministry we can control the whole situation."

    "You're the boss minister."

    "Yes I am. Call me as soon as something happens."

    The line disconnected and Ackerson walked back to the control room and resumed his position viewing the monitors. Everything was quiet and calm now. Very soon though, if everything went as planned. The sea would be littered broken steel and dying men. But that's war.
     
  9. Sheridan

    Sheridan New Member

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    A Secure Missile Shelter in Freiheit

    "Son of a bitch! The fleet moving towards Sarmatia is not going to make it. We need to start getting our forces here to hold out until the Sarmatian's and their allies reach our lands." said Chancellor Faust, who was currently not a very happy man.

    "I agree sir, our naval and air forces are not very advanced compared to the rest of the world. However our infantry are all highly trained guerilla's. We also have some pretty advanced weaponry. If they bring the fight to our shores, we will be able to start blowing holes in their militaries." agreed Hofheim, Minister of Defence.

    "I still don't like the fact that we are training Otchi soldiers Chancellor." spoke Christoph Denever, Dirketor of the secret police.

    "Do not worry Denever, we will use them in all the suicidal missions and what not, when we give them independence they will most certainly not have a military.

    "Whatever you say Chancellor."

    Outside of Freistadt

    In the outskirts of what had once been Freistadt, massive amounts of refugees were gathered listening to government sponsored rallies.

    "The Sarmatians think that they are all big and bad striking us from their safe little bunkes across the ocean. THEY ARE COWARDS! They wouldn't dare attack us personally, becuase they know that we Freiheitians are strong! We would crush them in combat..." was just some of the angry messages being spread from one of teh speakers mouth.

    What the Sarmatian government didn't consider is the fact that from a very small age, Freiheitians have been bred to be hateful, and to respond to threats with anger and violence. It isn't the Faust dictatorship that started this either, since the founding of the country in the 1500's Freiheitians have been like this. If Faust were to surrender then they would overthrow him, they need war with their attackers, they need Sarmatian blood to be spilt.
     
  10. Beautancus

    Beautancus Well-Known Member

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    OCW Despota (the Despot), Imperial Class Super-Carrier
    Eastern Implarian Ocean - Initial Deployment Against the rogue "Free Niemcy State"
    1630​


    The order had come through some six and a half minutes ago, but it had been anticipated for almost five hours. The crew of the Despot- the pride of the Imperial Fleet and one of the largest super-carriers currently pounding through the waves- was one of the best trained, and surely best prepared crews in the Imperial War-Marine, and it had been groomed for scenarios very similar to this since the ship had been in existence- since 1992. It had borne a different name then, and had served under a different flag, but many of the same old hands still served aboard her regal frame.

    It was nearly impossible for Admirał Eliasz Wojownik to keep the mischievous smile from his weathered old face, which bore more of a resemblance to that sported by most wild-eyed Old Testament prophets than anything else. His eyes betrayed the level of cruel intelligence that lurked beneath that otherwise jovial demeanor, and some of that bled through now, as followed the icy-blue afterburners of the Kara-18E's as they transitioned over to that lovely, radiant orange- and were out of sight, racing in on a mostly unprepared enemy to wreak God only knew what sort of havoc.

    The same routine was no doubt underway on the Despota's sister-ships, the Tyran (Tyrant), and the Autokrata (the Autocrat), amongst countless other preparations on each of the ships of the Implarian Task-Force- having lurked sullenly within Oikawan Imperial waters for some days until news came that the initial attacks against Freiheit had been launched. With that news, the Implarian Task-Force had pushed forward, relentlessly in most cases, to reach a distance suitable for launching attacks against the Niemcy forces.

    As the last of the Kara-18's disappeared from sight, Wojownik turned his attention back to the honored guest he would be so lucky as to entertain throughout the course of this conflict. Rear Admiral Hiraku Fukushima was standing just to the rear of the central communications station, obviously very deep in thought- taking in the collection of information eagerly presented to him. "I would pick your brain for a moment, Hiraku-san, if you would permit me." Wojownik paused to light his pipe, waiting for the Oikawan to wrap up the last bit of information he had been passed.

    "Indeed Eliasz-san, and might I add that you have more than impressed me with the level of professionalism I have witnessed- in all operational arenas. This crew is a testament to your leadership abilities- and to the worthiness of your nation as a whole." Fukushima joined the larger Sarmatian as they strolled out of the CIC and down onto the rather bulky stairwell that led down to the deck, their uniforms a study of contrasts and styles, with the more conservative cut and much lighter white and blue of the Oikwan's uniform, and the rather anachronistic cut of the Sarmatian's deep- almost black- green uniform.

    "You don't have to humor me Hiraku- though I understand that was a compliment more for the crew than it was for me, and I do appreciate that." Wojownik's gaze was distant as he spoke, falling out on the northern horizon, where one of the missile cruisers "attached" to the Despot was passing by- and apparently preparing to launch.

    The smaller man smirked and nodded his ascent. The two had known each other for decades now, nearly all of their professional careers and had maintained their friendship even during the period when Mniszech's Idiocy nearly ruined the alliance between their nations- which had already endured for more than a hundred years. Wojownik wasn't sure how Fukushima had managed to gain this assignment, but he was glad that he had. There were few men in the world that the Sarmatian Admiral would rather have at hand on such a high-stakes mission. Victory was assured- and had been assured the moment the Oikawan surveillance images had been passed along...but it was all a matter of covering the time in between the first salvo and the last.

    "How long do you expect it to be before your fighter-bombers are engaged?"
    Pulling the pipe from the corner of his mouth for a moment, and carefully considering the question- after glancing in the direction that his aircraft had disappeared, Wojownik finally spoke. "I'd give it another five or ten minutes. And that should be about how long it takes to finish the job, once it's started."

    The Oikawan nodded his understanding- he'd long known that Wojownik was a deep-thinker, and one that chose every phrase very carefully...a level of self-discipline that was often not found in "foreigners." He was about to speak again when the missile cruiser which they'd both been watching intermittently exploded into action, a sound not unlike the ending of the world buffeting the already clamorous Implarian waves.

    One, and then two missiles streaked upwards from the "opened" back of the cruiser, racing out to greet their targets with impossible speed and precision.

    In an almost reverential tone, Fukushima finally spoke. "The wonders of modern warfare, eh my friend?"

    "Wonders indeed, Hikaru, wonders indeed. I can only hope that this attack will be enough, and that we aren't forced to pull out all the stops. I am painfully aware of the collateral damage that this operation will do...though you know as well as I that this is one of the least concerns of this whole affair. This," and upon this, Wojownik spread his massive arms- symbolically encompassing the world, "...this is merely the beginning. We, we Titans amongst men, have slept for far too long Hikaru. We've let the world slip too far, and it will take more than we will be comfortable with unleashing to right it again. Such is the way of things, for us- and our nations. It is our duty, a celestially ordained duty, to maintain order in the face of chaos and spiritual degeneration. It is only this that allows me to take the most supreme pleasure in these otherwise murderous actions."

    Fukushima nodded again, patting the larger man on the shoulder. "Indeed Eliasz. I am sure that these are the same words that our grandfathers uttered more than sixty years ago now."

    "Admiral!" A young warrant officer, a Khazar by the looks of him, was half-stumbling half-leaping down the stairs to the deck, obviously harried.

    "Report man, but catch your breath first."

    Not waiting, the warrant officer spoke even as he stooped down to catch his breath. "The Kara's have engaged the Niemcy fleet Sirs. I thought that you might want to return to the CIC to observe."

    "Indeed we do, now lead the way."
     
  11. Frescania

    Frescania New Member

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    OCW Autokrata/ISS Autocrat
    Eastern Implarian Ocean


    The question was still ringing inside his head as he stood there in silence. What is wrong in war? he thought, but better not seem as if he was avoiding Marcel.

    “Obviously the Sarmatians want everyone to know they mean business when they feel threaten, and we should keep that in mind.”

    He looked towards the moving waters before continuing.

    “As for this being wrong: We should feel sorry regarding the people of Freiheit, but not its government.” He finally turned to Marcel.

    “I think the real question is what our governments plan to do about this situation, taking into account what the future geopolitical structure of this region will look like.”

    Miraflores
    Frescania


    “So the Freedom State is pretty much doom you say?”

    “Yes. There is no way they can fight off so many states.”

    President Gutierrez took a drink of wine as he listen to Rodriguez. The situation in the region was key to the new Alliance, and while friendly relations with Sarmatia was a main objective of the Frescanian foreign policy, advancing its own interests was the main one.

    “What do you recommend Santander.”

    “Sir, we should stay in touch with our Tysk allies and see what they deem necessary. They do have the island of Fjalladrottning in the area.”

    He sometimes wondered how the Tysks could speak with such combination of words, but he was not interested in languages right now.

    “Rodriguez, I want a fleet ready to go up there within twenty-four hours. I also want two special units ready to depart with them.”

    Both Santander and Rodriguez were surprised and the latter was about to speak when Gutierrez got up.

    “Inform Hertha that Fortaleza is going to visit the frosty north once more. And tell Martinez to get in here, I will need the Government in order.”

    Santa Maria Naval Base
    Puerto Azul, Gerpaza, Frescania


    The order had just arrived, and he was still surprised. A fleet to Tyskreich?, at this time?. He put it down as Admiral Pedro Alpaz called his secretary over.

    “Yes sir?”

    “Order the crew to get ready. We got orders to leave tomorrow morning to the North.”

    “To the north?”

    “Yes, we are visiting our Germanic brothers.”

    As the secretary left Alpaz stared to the main carrier of the fleet, ARF Terrastania, he realized this was the first time in decades the Frescanian Navy would be going north.
     
  12. Sheridan

    Sheridan New Member

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    Krei Island, North of Freistadt

    The other Amphibious Assualt Ship, the FNS St. John was currently being loaded with soldiers. The St. John was being filled to its maximum capacity of 1,000 crew men, and 2,275 soldiers. There was also a good amount of Havoc Attack Choppers being loaded on.

    The St. John was not the only ship in the fleet being gathered off the shores of Krei Island. 4 Destroyers, and 2 Corvettes, were preparing for Freiheit's newest military objective. Fjalladrottning, an island owned by Tyskreich, was a threat to Freiheit. This fleet was specially selected for its ability to shrug off missile attacks, seeing as almost every ship picked for his assualt had missile shields.

    The young commander of Operation No Mercy, Admiral Heely, knew first hand how vicious the enemies of Freiheit were. His fiance had been on 23rd Street when it collapsed from a Sarmatian missile strike, her car was at the bottom of a huge pile-up, and she died a slow painful death.

    Heely walked onto the deck of the St. John, and looked at the fleet that was preparing to move. the Operation was scheduled to begin in one hour, and it was estimated that they would reach the island in about 12 hours. Sub support was garunteed the whole way.

    "It is a sad state of affairs when our ex-Great War allie turns its back on us." said a voice behind him, a voice that belonged to Captain Shepard(ME2!!), the captain of one of the Destroyers.

    "We will show them that we do not take betrayal very lightly." said Heely confidently.
     
  13. Breotonia

    Breotonia Forum Elder

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    Naval Communication Service
    Encryption Code: Red
    Classification: Restricted
    Public Key: file/farthest_outpost/

    261639Z JULY 26
    From: NAVCOM/FLEETCOM - Admiral Harold Stanforth
    To: EASTFLEET command ship HMS Armageddon's Edge (CVN-80)
    Subject: Fleet Reassignment


    To create a more direct Breotish naval presence in the area surrounding Freiheit to deter interference by the warring parties of neutral commerce and to expidite our response should it become necessary to maintain the freedom of commercial traffic by force EASTFLEET is to reposition and carry out amended orders as follows:

    1. EASTFLEET is to keep its present formation but repositon its center to within Grid Position F4 at LONG 23°N56'30'' LAT 11°W18'38''.

    2. Objective is to monitor civilian and military naval and air traffic and report to NAVCOM. Known major military presences in the area (excluding local armed forces and warring parties): OIKAWA, FRANKEN

    3. NRDS engagement protocols. Engage the enemy only in selfdefense. If hostilities do occur report directly to HIGHCOM.​
     
  14. Sheridan

    Sheridan New Member

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    The fleet was now moving, and with it, Operation No Mercy. Private Cole Younger was part of the soldiers that was going to participate in the attack. He was 18 and one of the many newer recruits in the Freiheit military. He was laying down in the crew quarters playing cards with a few of his mates.

    "Damn I'm glad this war is happening during the summer time, I hear it's fuckin cold up there." said one of the other privates playing cards.

    "Yeah, I'm glad we finally get to strike a blow in one of Sarmatia's allies. I mean techinically they aren't an official ally of Sarmatia... but we all know given time the would be." Younger repied.

    "Yeah, better now than later." said the private.

    Younger looked at his surroundings... it was nothing but bunks and soldiers. All were talking or joking around. Younger smirked as he thought of victory. Younger had grown up like any other Freiheitian boy, gone to highschool and been bred to hate. First it was the Otchi, now it was the Sarmatians and their supporters. He had been skeptical of the 'Supreme Chancellor' until this recent turn of events. Faust handled things like a true Freiheitan, and didn't let anyone step on Freiheit without a good ass-kicking in return. He knew that this war was almost immposible, but still... it was comforting to know that his nation was still determined and optimistic for victory.
     
  15. Pohjanmaa

    Pohjanmaa Well-Known Member

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    Akershus Festning, Fjalladrottning—Akershus Naval Base, Satellite Control Center
    1522 Fjalladrottning Standard Time
    The men managing the Satellite Control Center in Fjalladrottning had been in constant contact with Frescanian operations since the war began. It was the job of all of them to try to monitor the traffic of ships in and around the war theater. The goal was to make sure no one planned to do anything silly and attack any Tysk held islands in the north or the west. They might be perceived as great launching points for invasions and the SCC:FJ was instructed to treat Sarmatian ships as if they may be possible invaders, despite the fairly warm relations between Greater Sarmatia and Tyskreich they could not take any chances. The Sarmatian attack was real, too real. The destruction left behind was a frightening thought and any impending attack on Tysk soil needed to be prevented before it started.

    It was then around 1522 FST that the SSC:FJ received a phone call from Frescanian operators. "Hello?... Yes, we've been notified that a Frescanian carrier fleet is on it's way to Fjalladrottning. We've got their current position on monitor... what?... Yes, we've noticed a small Germanic Freedom State cluster of vessels a little further north than normally expected... Yes, we've been tracking them too... It's not very big, so we're not too worried, but yes the military is on alert... Thank you... Goodbye..."

    The phone operator turned to his XO. "Should we do something? The Frescanians seem a bit more worried about it than we are. They cite the fact that they seem to be following a straight course for Fjalladrottning."

    His commanding officer sighed and nodded. "Fire up a couple of jets and see if they can't get them to turn around. Just to be safe, make sure our fleet is on call and in position to intercept them just as they enter our maritime boundaries. I don't know what those crazy freaks down south are thinking, but this isn't Age of Empires. Sending in troops randomly on straight shots for death isn't just a game."​
    Akershus Festning, Fjalladrottning—Akershus Naval Base, Østslottet Airfield
    1547 Fjalladrottning Standard Time
    The two Greifen Fighter Jets took off on an intercept course for the Germanic Freedom State's small ships on course for Fjalladrottning.

    GEPARD :: "Jäger, this is Gepard, stay in formation as we approach the Freiheitstaat group."
    JÄGER :: "I copy Gepard."


    The two jets flew on a direct intercept course until they were about fifteen minutes from visual when they opened up communication channels.

    GEPARD :: "Unidentified Freiheitstaat vessels, this is Gepard, Tyskreich designation... you are approaching the maritime boundary of a neutral nation. The Tysk Military would like to calmly and peacefully ask you to turn your vessels to the heading of 45º west to avoid confrontation. Do you copy?"

    There was a short pause and he gave orders to his wingman over a private channel.

    GEPARD :: "Jäger be ready for evasive maneuvers should this get ugly."
    JÄGER :: "I copy sir, should we be ready to fire?"
    GEPARD :: "I'd like to keep us out of visual range. If we're fired upon you're given clearance to fire at will. Remember we're not the only defenses. So don't be stupid. We'd rather get out of danger first. You're not saving your country, we've got one of the biggest military bases in Northwestern Europe behind us."
    JÄGER :: "Copy."


    Gerpard waited for the response from the Germanic Freedom State's ships.
     
  16. Aquitania

    Aquitania New Member

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    Grand Ducal Palace
    Bordèu, Aquitania


    "....with the units already in western Gascony, additional mechanized and armour brigades can be moved westward from Guyenne as well as southward from Dordogne. This will give us sufficient forces to support a Council Coalition."

    Grand Duke Jean III intently listens to his Secretary of Defence, Jacque Dubois, Comte de Lorient. It wasn't exactly what he had in mind when he had origianally ordered army units to the border during the early days of the Freiheit Civil War, but as things got more and more complicated, more and more troops were seen to be needed and the General Staff began working on contingency plans for an actual conflict with the new Freiheit regime, in fact, there were plans to actually force the Faust government to establish a Otchi homeland.

    Now it is Greater Sarmatia and it allies, especially those demon spawn in Oltremare, that have their sights set on Freiheit, and though few in the Grand Duchy would shed a tear should the Faust Regime be eraticated, the people of Freiheit, and especially the Otchi, deserve better than to exchange one totalitarian regime for another, and Jean prays that, this time, the Council of Nations actually does what it was founded to do.

    "Transfer the required ground and air forces and make bases ready to receive Coalition forces. Also, have the Épée Sainte and her battle group set sail for the Implarian, they may be needed before this is all over."
     
  17. Sheridan

    Sheridan New Member

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    The Tysk jets flew over the Freiheitian fleet. And high command had decided to call off Operation No Mercy, instead the fleet would be moving farther up north, and around to the other side of the continent and head towards the Marquette area.

    Even the underwater submarine fleet traveling with Heely's fleet was going around.

    Western Implarian

    The Sarmatian missile attack on the Freiheitian fleet did some serious damage. Only two destroyers and the aircraft carrie were left, and they were heading back towards Freiheitian waters. It had been determined that Freiheit would be employing the best offence is a good defence strategy.
     
  18. Beautancus

    Beautancus Well-Known Member

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    OCW Solomon, Khagan Class Amphibious Assault Ship
    Eastern Implarian Ocean - Secondary Phase of the assault upon the rogue German "Free" State
    0300​


    "Eternal vigilance is the price that we pay for liberty- the price that our fathers and grandfathers paid yesterday, and the price that our children will pay tomorrow. It has fallen to us, we proud few, to demonstrate the error of defying the will of our beloved Emperor, may his rein be long and prosperous. And gentlemen- I have no desire to disappoint that man, much less our Khagan- returned to us after so long. It has been many decades since the world trembled before the might of a Khazar war-band...and that is entirely too long."

    Massive, gnarled hands clasped tightly behind his back, blue-black beard and hair falling down to, and over his broad shoulders, Generał-Brygady Moshe Tarkhandar glared down at the Naval Infantry assembled before him. Each of them was already in their full pack, faces blackened to match their fatigues and gear- and each of them looked to be hanging upon his every word, almost ecstatically. Tarkhandar was one of the old breed- he'd begun service as a member of the Royal Naval Infantry- the sole armed force nominally attached to the Khaganate, which was why the Naval Infantry was, and had always been dominated by Khazars. It has satisfied him to no end when word had arrived that the Khagan had been allowed to return home, and to take his rightful place in the nation...a fact that had ultimately led to the reattachment of the lovely adjective- Royal.

    Tarkhandar envied his men in many ways. Soon, very soon they would be storming the already battered and ashen beaches of the barbarian rogue state of Freiheit- on the march to ensure an eternal, and Imperial, peace in this part of the world. Only one fact nagged at him- and that was the persistent rumor that the EDF, lot of homosexual bankers and thespians that they were, was considering an intervention in this conflict. In the Khazar General's estimation, that was the stupidest thing they could do. Not only was the Empire willing to accept the responsibility of rehabilitating this diseased nation, but it was willing to do it alone, to accept losses- alone. And the Occident spit upon that gesture of good will. Perhaps then, perhaps it would be best if the queer children made a move. They were certain to learn a lesson hard enough to last a great long time.

    "Soon, very soon you braves sons of Solomon, our own personal war will begin. Up to now it has been up to the Squiddies and the Canaries to bring the pain. Our turn now, and Adonai as my witness, it will be a pain so unbearable that these Niemcy never again consider taking their nation to war." Again, the raw energy that washed back over him from the grunts assembled was nearly so intense as to be called a religious experience.

    "Beyond that, you already know the score. We're to embark one hour before sun-up, and will be coming in behind the most intensive bombardment yet. That means to not un-ass your gear, be ready. If we have to move the time-table up, I want every man here ready to be on those boats- or helo's and itching for a fight. Not worrying about where their fucking canteen is.
    There's next to no chance that we'll be intercepted before we land- so focus on the mission and leave the getting there to the Squiddies up there." To emphasize his own excitement, Tarkhandar slammed his swagger-stick down on the bar of the catwalk he was perched upon. Silence drew out, deep and full, as his hawk-like gaze roved over his men.

    "And now...lest we not forget...please join me in saying: Shema Yisroel, Adonai Eloheinu..."



    Kara-18E, call-sign: Kogutmistrz, K01
    Podpułkownik (Lt. Col.) Armin Groszowski
    Skies near St. George, "Free" German State
    0320​

    This was the second sortie that Groszowski had flown in the past twenty-four hours, not that he minded- in the least. His first sortie had seen him "bag" an amphibious assault ship, alongside a confirmed hit on one of the Niemcy's destroyers. He was almost positive that he'd earn "full-bird" for that, and was nothing save resolved to make sure of that fact this morning.

    In the distance, Groszowski could almost discern the outline of St. George, which, despite the blackout imposed by the government was still more than clear enough a target- the dozens upon dozens of fires set by Sarmatian missile strikes seeing to that. Even now, just less than a hundred and fifty miles from his target, Groszowski could make out some of the individual fires, columns of distant orange and yellow rising into the early morning pitch of night.

    A number of the newer Kara-18 variants, designated the "G model" were several miles ahead of the squadron that Groszowski commanded- no doubt wreaking havoc on whatever radar and electronic warfare systems the Freiheiter's still had intact. Once in range, the Kara-18G's would be able to disrupt any attempts to organize an effective air-defense against what would follow.

    Just before giving the order for the squadron to split and cut in for the attack, Groszowski's helmet comm crackled to life. "K01, K01, this is Bosshog, do you copy?"

    "Aye Bosshog, I copy. What gives?"

    "Slight change of plans. Satellite imagery indicates that the Niemcy are pulling the remainder of their fleet back to their coast- likely to forestall the upcoming landings- which are still a go for 0515. The G's have already been rerouted and should be laying down static as we speak. We need you to neutralize this fleet. Former targets have been reassigned, and will not be an issue- so once you're finished, hightail it back here for debrief."

    "Aye Bosshog, K01 out."

    Feeding the updated coordinates into his fighter-bomber's computer, and transmitting them to the rest of the squad took less than a minute- and as things turned out, they weren't all that far from their new targets, the surviving elements of the Freiheiter Implarian Fleet. Each of the other fighters dipped their wings in confirmation, and in nearly perfect unison broke from their previous course to intercept the remnants of the Niemcy's navy.

    Within minutes Groszowski received confirmation that the Kara-18G's had "engaged" the Freiheiter vessels, limited the latter's ability to detect the incoming squadron of fighter-bombers, each of which was loaded to bear, and more importantly, piloted by men as eager for kills of their own as Groszowski himself.
     
  19. Sheridan

    Sheridan New Member

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    Admiral Huit was screaming out orders to his men.

    "GET THOSE GOD DAMN BIRDS IN THE AIR NOW! NOW NOW NOW!" he yelled to his men, many of whome were already taking off to attack the Sarmatian jets.

    "SEND WORD TO ST. GEORGE THEY NEED TO BE PREPARED, THEY MAY FINALLY BE INVADING!" he yelled to a radioman.

    "Sir, our communications have been disabled, we won't be able to get word to St. George." the radioman said.

    "FUCK ME!" Huit yelled. He looked into the air as the Freiheitian Fighter Wing finally took off and began to attack the Sarmatians. It was going to be one hard fight, but Huit knew his men could do it. The Freiheitians were not a very religious race, having averted from the Catholic faith of their founding fathers, and so the Freiheitians were not afraid of hell of punishment in the afterlife. They were ready to kill as many Sarmatian bastards as they could, and they hated the Sarmatians more than anything in the world rigth now.

    The Destroyer's anti-aircraft guns were firing almost non-stop, and Huit's aircraft carrier was doing the same. The Freiheitian fighters were faster than the Sarmatian's but not as heavily armed, it was going to be one hell of a battle.
     
  20. Aquitania

    Aquitania New Member

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    The Straits of Brittaine,
    Aboard the Grand Ducal Aircraft Carrier, Épée Sainte


    Vice Admiral Denis Fortescue was looking forward to finally getting out into the open sea. Though the Green Sea was not something you would call a duck pond, it always seemed small to him, especially when commanding a carrier group. The Épée Sainte, along with her battle group, had been long scheduled to be transferred to the Implarian, but due to pilot training schedules and upgrades it seems it would take a war in Freiheit to get the Admiralty to order her to the Big Blue. Even now that he was underway, he still feared that they would find some reason call her back to Bordeu. That fear quickly came to the forefront when his Chief-of-staff approaches and says that he has a message from the Admiralty.

    "Do I really want to know?"

    Commander Rene Lambert hands the message to his commanding officer.

    "This one you do."

    "Well Lambert," Fortescue says with a half grin, "it looks like the gloves are coming off. Alert all commands."
     

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