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Striking the Balance

Joined
Dec 25, 2007
Messages
1,134
Location
Wyoming
Capital
Wadestone
Denever's Estate

Faust and what was left of his staff were moving South to the Sarmatian occupied zone. He only had 24 hours to turn himself in to them. As he got out and into his car he noticed the large amount of men on the other side of the Lake. They looked like Military men. Could it be that the Sarmatians had already reached this far up north?

"Let's head towards that camp on the otherside of the lake, it could be Sarmatian!" Faust shouted to the other men getting into their cars. They began to drive towards the largish camp.

On The Other Side of The Lake

On the other side of the lake was the remnenants of the Freiheiter military. They were gathering to coordinate a battle plan, since their radios were mostly disabled or being listened in on by Sarmatians. Then somebody shouted that they saw a small group of cars moving towards them. They gathered and started to waive the cars down, since they could be more citizens coming to help out the war effort.

When the cars stopped the troops could see into the windows. It was Faust and his government staff. For about 15 minutes the two parties stared at each other, before the Freiheiters grabbed their rifles andopened fire. Wiping out teh bastards who had surrendered.
 

Beautancus

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Joined
Aug 1, 2008
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2,341
Location
The Best Carolina
Capital
Altaturra
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Beau
Skies over Occupied Freiheit
Denever Estate​


It would have been foolish to assume anything other than that the Imperial Armed Forces- and their allies- would be keeping very close tabs on the whereabouts and possible hiding places of any and all of the former leaders of the defunct nation- with "that worm Denever" being no different. When satellite coverage was available- streams of stills were taken and relayed back to Imperial High Command in Old Hrodino- to the Despot, and from there to forces already on the ground- or in the air above the former Freiheit.

Though the Freiheiters seemed to be aware of the occasional presence of UAV's or delta-winged shapes blotting out the sun momentarily- but they made no moves to obscure their course- and the large military camp that the Denever party arrived as open to the world as any martial camp had ever been. The Intelligence Officers analyzing the real-time feed from the UAV that had been tasked with shadowing Denever were shocked- closer to being appalled when it became clear that the Empire would be robbed of putting the former leaders of this nation on trial- and hanging them high for the whole world to see.

Retribution was swift in coming- as much a part of the "rehabilitation" of the former Freiheit as any passage from the Gospels. Not only did the UAV fire its limited armament of air-to-surface missiles into the center of the camp- but several missile cruisers and destroyers patrolling just a few miles off the coast launched a rather heavy barrage on these coordinates- hammering the position without ever bringing a single living member of the Imperial Armed Forces within five miles of the camp.
 

Záhorie

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Staff member
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Oct 31, 2006
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7,834
Location
Planet Mercury
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Relenksa
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Fleur
Bayonne Harbor

As 3 Marquen F14's streaked overhead, the harbor was ablaze with life. Marquen Naval Infantry clambered off of ships. The Naval Infantry were generally considered to be Marquette's best troops, along with the airborne.
Aboard HMS Liberte, the Admiral sighed as he was handed communique after communique. Himself and Colonel Demozay of the infantry were deeply disappointed at the orders. No combat, only support services. However, the fleet would provide security for the port of Bayonne and were ordered to provide field hospitals for the troops of Aquitania.

A slight rain came in off the sea, bringing the sweet smell of the ocean into the harbor. The fleet was ordered to return to port after a week, leaving the naval infantry and field medical staff behind. The Admiral knew this would be his last engagement. Hopefully, he could enjoy a relaxed week in Bayonne.
 
Joined
Jul 10, 2008
Messages
578
Grand Ducal Palace
Bordèu, Aquitania


In the Situation Room in the royal palace, military and political advisors of the Grand Duke were gathered, something new and unexpected had happened and a decision had to be made. All eyes in the room turn immediately to the door when "His Royal Highness, Grand Duke Jean III" is announced.

"As you were gentlemen. " the Grand Duke says as he enters the room."Has there been a confirmation that the message is legitimate?"

Secretary for Foreign Affairs, the Seur Henri Mercier, "Yes, Your Highness, it has been confirmed."

"So the message is legitimate, but can we be certain that it is on the level. Can we trust the Sarmatians?"

"I beleive so Your Highness. It is they who contacted us after all. I think they see it as the best time to make a deal."

"And what do you think Henri, is it a good time to make a deal?"

"In my humble opinion, Your Highness, yes. This agreement, Your Highness, will mean the conflict will end with the final defeat of the Freiheiters and will not be subject to conflict with the Sarmatians, and, just as importantly, the region that Your Highness sees as a new home for the Otchi will be recognized by Greater Sarmatia."

"And what about our allies?"

"I am hoping they will see it our way."

Rubbing his chin, the Grand Duke looks towards a large video screen at the end of the room where the hardened visage of Maréchal Alexandre de Bouglione is displayed.

"Well Maréchal, you have heard Mercier's suggestion, what of you, what do you think of this deal?"

Maréchal Alexandre de Bouglione had received the same communication from the Sarmatians and was ready for the Grand Duke's question.

"Your Highness, militarily, we can defeat the Freiheiters, especially once our allies arrive, but in the meantime we will have to postpone a counter-attack to wait for them. But, if the Sarmatians do aid us by attacking rear echelon troops, I am confident that the morale of those still fighting us will break, if we launch our our attack now rather than wait. It is my opinion more lives will be saved this way then if we wait, and at the same time we don't create a new enemy before even defeating the old one."

It is a rare time that both the diplomats and the soldiers actually agree with each other and at the same time confim his own thoughts.

"Very well, gentlemen," Jean says with a tone indicating that he had decided," Send a message to the Sarmatians. Tell them we accept this proposal and that they may begin airstrikes on Freiheit military formations in the northern sector of what is designated the 'proposed Aquitanian occupational zone' and agree that no Aquitanian ground forces will advance beyond the northern boundry, to be designated the "Red Line", and that no Greater Sarmatian ground forces advance south of the same line."

With the message being coded for transmission, the Grand Duke once again looks at the video screen.

"Maréchal, as soon as the Sarmatians confirm the message, the launching of the counter-offensive will be at your descretion and may God's grace be upon you."
 

Josepania

Establishing Nation
Joined
Oct 31, 2006
Messages
7,649
Location
Los Angeles
Capital
Palmira
Nick
Jose
Krei Island, Northwestern Freiheit
1700, Local Time


The surrender of Freiheit's ships and its Army commanders came as a great relief to Contrammiraglio Cipriani. Perhaps these Freiheiters had some sense left in them after all. As marines boarded the Freiheiter ships to formalize the surrender and detaining of the crews, the four helicopters reached their designated drop-off points and opened the doors, letting the ropes fly free and the 48 marines on-board to slide down to the ground.

Scanning the surroundings, there was a small pause before the declaration was made: "Clear!" With that, the helicopters began to fly back to the ships for a second wave of marines. With three-quarters of the marines beginning to set up a perimeter, the remaining quarter moved into the docks to make sure they were secured.

"ITS Vittoria, this is Task Force Alpha. We've begun securing the dock, but the place looks empty. The transports can begin docking procedures."

"Copy Task Force Alpha, relaying message now. Stay on guard, we've gotten reports of rogue elements of the Freiheiter army disobeying orders"

"Copy that Vittoria, will keep eyes open. We're oscar mike."

Meanwhile, at the edge of the perimeter around the dock, Private Fabio Signorelli crouched behind a door and surveyed the area with his rifle. The place seemed quiet and unassuming. It was quite probable Intel had their heads up their asses again with all these reports of rogue Freiheiter soldiers. If they did exist, they weren't existing here.

Signorelli's thoughts were disturbed by a moving shadow, something he almost dismissed as a trick of the light, when it happened again. And again. "Movement! Movement at one o'clock!" he announced as he took the safety off and aimed his rifle at one of the moving shadows.

"Hold there! Hold or we open fire! Hold in His Imperial Tiburan Majesty's name!"

The shadow paused for a brief moment, and was replaced by the flash of gunfire. Bullets pinged off the frame around the door as Signorelli scrambled back behind cover.

"Merde! We're being fired upon Task Force Alpha, I repeat, we are being fired on! We need reinforcements right now!" he shouted into his mike as he ducked back out of cover and returned fire, immediately dropping a Freiheiter recruit out of cover.

So much for non-existent rogue soldiers...

OOC: Took a few small liberties with the Freiheiter recruits, hopefully nothing major or godmoddish. If there are problems Freiheit, let me know via PM.
 
Joined
Nov 11, 2006
Messages
1,168
Location
Chatsworth, California
Flag Bridge,
HMS Heracles


The Heracles Task Force had arrived in the Bay of Aquitania during the night. Rawlings, knowing that time was of the essense, had ordered flank speed when setting sail, leaving his suppy ships behind to catch up later. Rear-Admiral Rawlings first objective was to get his planes into position to support the Aquitanians.

Looking down at the flight deck, Rawlings watches as fully loaded fighters move into position to launch. He is impressed with how well the carriers attack group is readied for action, but frowns a bit at the thought that it would be Montelimarian built fighters that were being used in the attack. He had always been an advocate of a home grown naval fighter, as well as his fellow carrier commanders were back when the Admiralty was deciding on a new fighter when replacing the assortment of naval aircraft being used back then, and had been disappointed when it had been decided to go with the Montelimar Be.231 Rafale. Though Rawlings admits it is a fine aircraft, to him it still just didn't feel right.

Rawlings is shaken from his musings by the sound of the voice of the air group commander coming over the speaker.

"Attack coordinates have been received and transmitted to the respective flights, all is ready."

Looking one more time down at the flight deck then out across the water toward the Freiheit.

"Launch aircraft....and tell the pilots, good hunting."
 
Joined
Apr 18, 2010
Messages
1,109
Location
The South
Northern Implarian Ocean,
0600 Hours


After days of travel, the slow-moving, often Breotonian or Anglyic-escorted, Makai Relief Convoy arrived within 100km of Freheit waters. They had a long way to go yet before they were near the shores of Freheit, but the Convoy was now officially "within range" of hostilities. Captain Kameha, of the MSS Bohrok, watched astutely as RADAR began to reveal the multitudes of millitary warships in this area, clusters of national naval hardware in the distance, prowling and preparing their own offensive operations. In another two days, the Makai convoy would be in Freiheit waters themselves, and from there, they would make their way to a secured Coalition Port or Landing Zone, and begin their Humanitarian mission.

The ageing diesel engine's hum was a comfort to the old Captain, who had sailed the tropical waters of the Southern Implarian for most of his life. He found the colder, rougher waters of the Northern half of the globe disquieting, and he was ever watchful for storms. He had little concern- or experience- with real millitary matters, and though he kept his crew busy with gun-drills and fire-drills, he knew that, if anything ever did attack them, they would not fight, but simply abandon ship as quickly as possible.

But that would not happen, he knew with certainty. The might of the World sailed these waters now, and Freiheit had been smashed into oblivion. Its people were starving, its cities bare rubble, its navy nothing but scrap decorating the briny depths.

The only possible threat, he concluded, came from that...other Force that was here, the Sarmatian Armada that had begun and ended this war, and was not truly part of the International Coalition Force. They came to destroy, not to rebuild. He could only imagine what dark terrors they were visiting on the suffering Freheiter populace.

He opened the heavy bulkhead door and strode out on to the blusteringly windy deck, and looked out at the evenly spaced convoy of freighters trailing behind and to the side of them. Large freighters packed to the gunwales with crates stuffed with blankets, tents, dry rations, bottles of water and basic medical supplies. Even aboard the Bohrok, all surplus space had been crammed with whatever supplies they could think of. This was, he reflected proudly, a mission of mercy.

He wondered, though, darkly, whether this nation deserved it. The Otchi needed the aid, not those who had collaborated and abetted with a dangerous and criminal regime.
 
Joined
Dec 25, 2007
Messages
1,134
Location
Wyoming
Capital
Wadestone
Krei Island

Sergeant Freidmann had been chosen by the remaining defenders to lead the defence of Krei Island.

"Has wave 1 reached the target?"

"Yes sir, they are in the process of attacking." responded one o fthe Private's.

"Send in wave two in another 15 minutes. We are going to break this assualt. We outnumber them, and we have the more strategic point of the island." soem would say that since he and his men had the more strategic side of the island that he should be defending it rather than attacking the other side. He had thought about this, but decided that it was best if his men got a real shot at combat. Also the Freiheiter Armed Forces were more of an invasion force rather than a defending one.
 

Warre

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Joined
May 13, 2010
Messages
1,384
Nick
Warr
Incident 3;
Location; Chambers of the Council of Ri; Carrickaodha; Cathair na Lumina

It was dim, dark solely so the projector could properly do it's job as it was connected to the laptop judicially being worked upon by a Warreic Army Private. The room's dim-dark clime did not bring silence or calm, there was a battle going on in the projection and around it. There was a battle going upon by the Rígan [Queen] of Ulaire, the Ri [King] of Dvery, the Ri of Arynhold, and the Crown-Prince of Warre.

“Majesty! You must be kidding! Your father will not allow you to do this!”

“It's my nation just as much as its his. Just as much as it is any of your's. Which of you fought in the Rygard campaign? In the street fighting that occurred then? I was barely fourteen, but I was there at my Uncle's side. I saw what will happen if you let people like the Freiheiter deserters survive. It's unacceptable and we will wage the war as I say. As Chancellor of the Chancellery of Defense it is my decision to how we will bring about an end to this war.”

“Non-the less, majesty. It is unacceptable to change the plan as you suggest. To strike upon Gilrae once again, with the Wyverns and to continue bombing that city. Thousands more will die.”

“The Freiheiters have to be stopped, Conreal. They killed the Otchi, or at least devastated their population. They had nuclear weapons, and the capability to strike us with them, if Sarmartia had not stepped in to forcibly disarm that nation of radicals. Nothing says they're ever going to act like human beings Conreal na Dvery, and you're being far too Occidental in thought. Our ancestors wouldn't hesitate in a matter like this. Those Freiheiter guerillas are a threat to -Warreic- Civilians. I don't give a single millimeter of a shit if we have to harm more Freiheiter civilian to secure Gilrae and to destroy their forces in the mountains or at least weaken them. We're going to begin striking with the Wyverns, and we're not going to stop dropping payloads, as we sent troops to reinforce our holdings in Gilrae and around the mountains. If they want to play hide in the mountains; we'll play siege of the germanis barbarians. Let's see how long they can last in those castle of mountains before running out of equipment or starving to death.”

“Majesty! This is very disrespectful, your entire attitude towards us! You may be the chancellor of Defense and the Crown-Prince, but we are still your superiors in rank!”

“One rules by skill and force. By charisma and character. You three have forgotten our old ways, and it's not a matter of your opinion. It's happening, we're activating every reserve brigade, as well. If the Freiheiters want to do all those things, then declare war, then beg for peace all the while with a force bigger than many cities, then they'll be taught what we do to the children of crusaders.”

The twenty three year old Crown-Prince brushed his hair from his face, shaking his head. “I'm out of here, Conreal, Méabh, Dougall. And if any of you want to stop my decision, go to my father. Plead your case. He knows what I plan and he hasn't spoken out against it.” Steely blue eyes glared at the older royals, and the dark haired crown-prince, Cèith Mac Lubra Mac Aodh, jumped up from his chair, almost knocking it to the ground, before he grabbed the edge of it and set it right. He moved to walk away from these fogies and Conreal calling out in anger. “Crown-Prince Cèith!”

But it was done. Like a slumbering hound awakened by a fight amongst his fellows, he was bristling at minimum.
 

Josepania

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Oct 31, 2006
Messages
7,649
Location
Los Angeles
Capital
Palmira
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Jose
Krei Island, Northwestern Freiheit
1710, Local Time


"Fall back! All marines fall back and regroup at defensive position Beta!" In danger of already being overrun due to the number disparity between the attacking Freiheiter recruits and the defending Tiburan marines, the latter began an organized retreat deeper into the docks, throwing smoke and frag grenades to cover their retreat. The marines that had been securing the rest of the docks moved quickly to rejoin their besieged comrades, risking unsecured docks so that the mission as a whole may be saved.

As the second wave of marines on the helicopters approached, the destroyer Vittoria and its companion frigate opened fire with another salvo on the attacking Freiheiters to provide additional cover for the marines. Contrammiraglio Cipriani, meanwhile, studied the reports he was getting from the docks and nodded as he made his decision.

"Detain those Freiheiter sailors and officers as quickly as possible! Once that's done, transfer skeleton crews to the Freiheiter ships and have them provide support for the marines in the docks! We'll use their own weapons against them if we must!"

As the crews responded to the task set before them, the transport ships loaded with men of the 1st BCT had almost reached the docks, though it would take quite a few minutes before finishing docking procedures and unloading enough men and equipment onto the docks to reinforce the marines. It would also take at least another hour, if the Tiburans were lucky. for additional reinforcements from the other islands to reach Krei Island. At least the Tiburans there were encountering minimal resistance, so the reports said...

"Contact Fort Hibernia, tell them we need whatever air support they can provide." Contrammiraglio Cipriani ordered, frowning as he gazed upon the already smoking docks, hearing the faint cracks and pops of gunfire, hoping those marines were giving the Freiheiter recruits a stern lesson in warfare...
 

Breotonia

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Jan 9, 2007
Messages
7,412
Location
Missouri
Naval Communication Service
Encryption Code: Black
Classification: Secret
Public Key: file/deference_for_darkness/

041230Z AUG 2010
From: Office of Naval Intelligence - Section One
To: Prowler Force East lead ship HMS Midsummer Night (SSN-869)
Subject: Operation Perspective


Three carrier battle groups of EASTFLEET are relocating to pre-conflict positions and operations. CBG "Shadow of Intent" will remain to monitor the situation and, with the support of a collection of smaller ships, continue to provide protection to neutral and commercial traffic. One amphibious assault ship, eight destroyers, four corvettes, four submarines, and a collection of smaller vessels have been apprehended by Breotish forces and are currently en route to our territorial waters for examination, repair, and repurposing. Prowler Force East is to continue its mission with the following amendments:

1. Monitoring of all naval activity will continue past the deadline until orders are issued stating otherwise.

2. Special attention is warranted to naval activity in the path of the captured Freiheiter fleet and its support ships. Early warning to possible non-friendly action is essential.

3. Shadowing of engaged fleets is to continue with special attention to the Sarmatian main fleet as it continues to host a VIP.

4. Engagement protocols remain the same.​
 
Joined
Jul 10, 2008
Messages
578
Army Headquarters
Dax, Gascogne
Grand Duchy of Aquitania


The Abenaki once called it Nebizontekw, or medicine water, as even before the first Templar missionary arrived, the natural mineral waters and hot springs were thought to be able to rejuvenate one's health. In modern times the commune of Dax, the town that has since grew there, has become known for its hot fountain and health spa specialising in mud treatment for rheumatism and similar ailments. While normally, the visitors to the Dax has been those looking to improve their health, quite recently a whole different kind of visitor has been seen on the streets and surrounding countryside, visitors wearing uniforms and carrying guns.

It is here at Dax due to its location that the headquarters of the 1st Army had been established and where Maréchal Alexandre de Bouglione would be directing the military operations against remnants of the Faust Regime. As the Freiheit advance on Bayonne had faultered, stopped and now, still under heavy attack by Aquitanian ground and air force as well as air forces of the Coalition, Maréchal Bouglione had just finished authorizing the movement of formations to positions in which a counter-attack can be mounted. Bouglione knew it was the time to strike back, but, unlike his predecessor in the Great War, his final objective was well beyond the border, he had been ordered to change the map of the world.

Bouglione was certain that geographically, he could succeed. He could drive the Freiheiter back to what is now being called La Ligne Rouge, The Red Line, but after that it will need something far greater than guns and bullets to insure that stability can be established and the Otchi can finally live in peace and security. Obviously, from Aquitania, the Otchi will be able to find security and spiritual guidance, but the question is, after so many have died at the hands of the Faust regime, who do the Otchi have to be their voice. Of course Aquitania will, if need be, fill that void, but none in Bordèu, in fact no Aquitanian, can honestly say that they can truely speak for the Otchi. Only an Otchi can do that.

Picking up his coffee mug and stepping out onto the balcony, Maréchal Bouglione watches as the sun disappears over the horizon, a horizon black with smoke and from which direction an almost continueous thunder of artillery and explosions, and perhaps, though he knows it is only his imagination, there, carried on the wind, the haunting sound of the moans the dying.

He doesn't know how long he had stood out on the balcony staring into the gathering darkness, but as he takes a sip of his coffee and finding it cold, Bouglione realizes it must have been quite a while. As the Maréchal steps back into inside, he is surprised to find his aide quietly standing in the middle of the room.

"What is it, Jerome?"

"Sir, Col. DeVeer is outside with two civilians. The colonel says they are someone you may want to meet. He says to tell you one of them is from Beynac."

Château de Beynac, for most it is just an old castle built in the early days of the Grand Duchy, but for those in the know, it is the home of the Order the Black Robes, the Templar Secret Service. If the man is a Black Robe, Bouglione might not necessarily want to meet him, but is someone he dare not turn away.

"See them in Jerome, and make sure we are not disturbed."
 

Radilo

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Jan 5, 2010
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Cleveland
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Nuovo Porto
Nick
Nutty's better half
Somewhere off of the east side of Aquitania

Until now Radilan forces hadn't engaged in any combat missions. This was to the liking of worried mothers, but the troops were getting restless. This was all to change with the new orders issued by the Prime Minister. The amphibious ships were to dock and the cavalry battalion they contained would embark cross country towards La Ligne Rouge and rendezvous with allied forces.

Colonel Dandrews hated the idea... it would be a huge inconvenience to dock the ships on one side of the country and have the tanks driven en convoy to the other side. He knew that there wasn't much of a threat to the amphibious forces from any lingerings of Freiheit's navy. But the Admiralty was always overly cautious, as was their nature. Fine, he thought, it is easier to just agree and get on with it, rather than to bicker with his superiors.

Dandrews took an odd pride in the opportunity to help in the humanitarian mission in the newly minted Otchi state. He was Otchi... at least part, some great grandparent was anyway. Regardless, it was an important mission.

"Everything is in order, sir."

"Good. Well we best get going so we can piss off a lot of morning commuters."

"I'm sure they will be thrilled, Colonel. I do have one question, though, sir."

"What is it?"

"Did the Aquitanians actually say we could drive across their country... it looked like just the docking orders were approved."

"Well that would be the embassy's problem than wouldn't it."

"Aye, sir."
 

Beautancus

Well-Known Member
Joined
Aug 1, 2008
Messages
2,341
Location
The Best Carolina
Capital
Altaturra
Nick
Beau
Święty Jerzy/Sankt Georg/St. George
Podstawa/Stützpunkt/FOB Gniew (Wrath)
0730, local time


For slightly more than a week now Imperial Armed-Forces personnel had been pouring into the former Freiheit, veiled by a curtain of steel and, when necessary, fire. Whatever native authority that had remained in the wrecked metropolis, and the territories surrounding it, had either been rooted out with the most extreme prejudice possible- or had been so wise as to go into hiding, as deeply and far-removed from the unyielding brutality of the Sarmatian and Khazar soldiers now swarming over the now defunct nation.

There was an aura of palpable hatred in the air at all times now, in the hollow, burning eyes of the defeated "Wolnyniemcy*" boring into the passing backs of the Empire's men at arms, all of whom had been repeatedly forced to view footage of massacres perpetrated against the Otchi...and in some cases had even been directed to the half-covered mass graves that would stand as a testament to the unspeakable evils of the ethnic Germans of the former Freiheit.

In nearly every case that horrific evidence had stirred the desired emotions within the already hard-hearted Sarmatians- inspiring a desire for vengeance that could easily be described as Biblical...recalling the undimmed wrath of an angry Deity, shattering the sinful pride of nations- and vanquishing evil wherever it could be found.

Podstawa Gniew, the Empire's main forward operating base in the southwestern portion of the former Freiheit had been one of the few Freiheiter military bases that hadn't been completely shattered in the overwhelming air-campaign that had begun- and ended what most everyday Sarmatians- including the sailors and soldiers actually involved- were calling "the Wolnyniemcy Crusade." To say that it had escaped the attention of Imperial K-18's would be incorrect however- and it would take some time yet for the Imperial Army's Engineering and Logistics Corps to refashion the base to truly fulfill the Empire's needs.

The fact that the Imperial Secretariat of War, and the current Imperial Commander-in-Chief in the former Freiheit, Admirał Eliasz Wojownik understood that this task would take some time, and no small amount of determination did not keep them from pushing their engineers and "voluntary native laborers" to their limits, and beyond in the case of the latter.

Most of the debris that had been created in the "casual" passes made by the Imperial K-18's had been cleared in the first days after the site had been chosen to serve as an FOB. There was little doubt that the tender sensibilities of the Occidentals now overseeing the wellbeing of the decimated Otchi people would have been not only offended but altogether shattered by the methods Imperial "occupational officers" had utilized in order to ensure so swift a clean-up operation. Hostages had been taken immediately, to secure the absolute cooperation of the local population. There were less hostages than there had been now- but the job was done, and the point had been made crystal clear.

The commanding officer of the FOB, General Zygmunt Szylling, was one of the Imperial Secretariat of War's "favored sons," having risen through the ranks alongside Field-Marshal Rola. He'd also won the respect and trust of the Emperor himself, after Szylling had successfully "pacified" a particularly rebellious garrison on the Barazi border in the brief power struggle that had ended with the birth of the Empire. It had been that latter performance that had won him this assignment, which Szylling himself would admit that he was perfectly suited to.

Perfectly blending the "old school," and the new- surprisingly even harder- school that was developing in the wake of the Barazi and Freiheiter wars, Szylling represented the future the Imperial Armed-Forces- a fact that both Admiral Wojownik and Field-Marshal Rola intended to exploit as much as possible.

A number of VIP's, both Imperial and Allied, were being flown in for a "last-minute" conference with that very idea in mind, serving as a perfect opportunity to showcase Szylling's- and by extension- the Empire's administrative expertise and martial prowess. The fact that the conference had been thrown together at the last minute also belied the deep and eternally abiding paranoia of the Imperial Sarmatian regime, which assumed duplicity in all matters, domestic or foreign.

Though there was very little reason (none, to be perfectly honest) to fear that the Freiheiters would, or perhaps more accurately could, discover the location or time of the conference...it was always assumed that the perennial "rivals" of the Sarmatian nation did have the means to uncover such information, and more importantly, were possessed of the will to seize upon a target, or targets, of such high value.

Aside from Admiral Wojownik and General Szylling, the Empire would be represented by Brigadier-General Moshe Tarkhandar (ranking field commander of the Imperial Naval Infantry engaged in the former Freiheit), Vice-Admiral Kazimierz Ostrogski (of the nuclear submarine Vanguard), and the newly arrived Inspector-General Mieczysław Kasprzycki (of the feared NBD, or Imperial Secret Police/Intelligence Agency). It would be this coterie that would (for the most part) determine the future of the former Freiheit, or those portions of which that had not been parceled out already...

The remainder of the VIP's, hailing from the various nations that had supported Greater Sarmatia in the "Crusade" were of similar quality to the Sarmatian commanders, though in some cases slightly less well-known.

The Tiburans, oldest and truest of Sarmatia's allies would be represented by General Giovanni Napolitano, overall Commander of the Imperial Tiburan Expeditionary Force currently engaged in the islands just off the northern coast of Freiheit. A sound strategist and tactician, and certainly worthy of his post- it was expected that his star would continue to rise within the HTE for some time to come.

The Warreic representative, Ser General Conan NaBhfiachgruaige, commander of the High-Kingdom's 'Cu na Aodh' or Special Forces, was something of an enigma to the Empire. Though certainly capable, and seemingly of a very similar mindset to the Sarmatian commanders present (which seemed to be the case with the two nations in general), this would be the first opportunity to formulate an accurate, firsthand opinion of the man.

The sole (for the moment) Oikawan representative, Rear Admiral Hiraku Fukushima had been aboard the Despot since before the conflict had actually begun. He and Wojownik were long-time friends, and it was generally assumed that he'd provided at least some "moral support" to his aforementioned comrade in the course of the "Crusade."

Once the Tiburan and Warreic Generals had arrived, and were quickly bustled away from the airstrip and into the FOB's bowels, the conference was under way- with the general outline for all operations, whether conducted individually or cooperatively, in the former Freiheit were immediately addressed- with the forthcoming "final offensive" on the ruins of Freistadt figuring into the discussion heavily.

Without the threat of Rus' intervention, "President" Hoffman was now bereft of any substantial defense, and the Imperial Secretariat of War had placed his capture at the very top of the list of all their short-term objectives. Having been denied the true architects of the conquered nation's madness, Hoffman would have to do. The media blitz to further demonize the already hated leader had begun in earnest as soon as the news that Faust and Denever had been killed was made public- and was succeeding in ways that not even the Imperial Chancellery had expected.

With all agreements finalized- sealed with fine cigars and whiskey, as nearly every other agreement made by any true Sarmatian for some hundred years now- the final nail in the coffin of Freiheit was set to be hammered in...in this case, taking the form of what would be the most intense aerial bombardment yet witnessed in the war. The larger portion of the second wave of Naval Infantry, having landed mere days before, were already massing for the assault that would follow that bombardment, alongside a full armored battalion. No chances were being taken in this assault, with Wojownik resolved to force a definitive conclusion to this "Crusade," no matter the cost in Freiheiter lives.


OOC: "Wolnyniemcy*" = "Free German/s" in the Sarmatian lingo
 

Josepania

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Oct 31, 2006
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7,649
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Los Angeles
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Palmira
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Jose
Holy Tiburan Imperial Base: Fort Hibernia
Northern Warre, Far Occident
1730, Local Time


From the air, the base looked much like a metal ant colony, with tiny creatures scurrying to and fro frantically, at first glance complete chaos, but in reality a very orderly bustle. The base was alive again, after a few days of restful tension after the three infantry Brigade Combat Teams of the Tiburan Expeditionary Force set out for Krei Island and the "Freedom State's" other northern islands. Another force had arrived from the Holy Tiburan Empire, this one a group of three armored Brigade Combat Teams.

It was also to be the last. With the surrender of the Freiheiter government, major action was expected to be nonexistent, at least for the Tiburans. Let their allies in Warre and Sarmatia deal with the remaining armies of resistance. The Tiburans were content to quietly work in the background, providing support where needed and advancing the glory of civilization to the Far Occidental barbarians.

The destination for this second force was the mainland, just south of the Krei Island group and in between Freistadt and Gilrae. The higher-ups claimed it was to cut off any possible links between the rogue armies and trap them between a rock and a hard place. Though, to the underlings, the "hard place" that was the 2nd Tiburan Expeditionary Force seemed like a mighty small one when the Freiheiters were rumored to be in the hundreds of thousands.

On the other hand, with no government to support them, and pounded on all sides by merciless foes, those numbers could be expected to shrivel dramatically... maybe. It depended on how dumb (or in a nicer way, fanatical) the Freiheiter soldiers were.

As the soldiers pondered and they and their equipment was loaded onto the transport ships, two flights of three fighter-bombers each* were being prepped for take-off. Apparently on Krei Island, the 1st Tiburan Expeditionary Force was encountering stiffer resistance than anticipated, having to resort to using the enemy's own ships to bombard the Freiheiters into submission. While clever, it shouldn't have been necessary, and was another testament to the bureaucratically slow military that the Holy Tiburan Empire now possessed.

Fortunately, it had a positive side: the faults found in these operations would be corrected in a promised package of reforms to the Empire's military, as well as other aspects. And besides: the Freiheiters were on the verge of collapse. As long as no major mistakes were made, victory was all but certain.

Civilization would be, at last, brought to these genocidal barbarians, whether they liked it or not.

*OOC: Will add to OOB tomorrow.
 
Joined
Aug 30, 2009
Messages
2,646
Location
Free State of Bavaria
Capital
Zittau
Nick
ErAn, Franken, ArEn
Army Headquarters
Dax, Gascogne
Grand Duchy of Aquitania


Amongst the many allied forces that were heading towards Aquitania to honour their EDF treaty obligations there was not only a naval force but also a detachment of land forces. They were to act as reserve forces, nonetheless ready to serve at the Aquitanian armed forces leadership's behest. Command over both the carrier task force KMS Graf Montgelas and the Royal Army units had been assigned to a Generalmajor, which indicated Franken considered this to be mainly a land war. Nevertheless, deputy command was handled by the rear admiral leading the carrier task force.

Following consultations with the Aquitanian command they had been assigned a middle-sized compound to set up the battle headquarters of the Franconian contingent. While he was waiting for the Marshal to receive him, Generalmajor Wilhelm Beaumont - the Foreign Minister's uncle - checked the folder of documents he was to present once more. As of this morning the carrier task force KMS Graf Montgelas was nearing its target area in the northern Implarian Sea waters of the Grand Duchy. Furthermore, while he had been only accompanied by his vanguard, the HQ company&Royal Pioneers detachment, the Royal Guards Generalmajor had received word the main bulk of Franconian forces were queuing behind the Radileans and/or were already unloading. Altogether the combat troops were the 2,500 men-strong light reconnaissance brigade, 2,500 of the heavy armoured brigade as well as 200 servicemen of the Elektronische Kampführung (Electronical Warfare) and 250 paratroopers (a battalion of the more airborne focused second guards division). Generalmajor Beaumont would be able to report his Aquitanian counterpart the battle-readiness of the Royal Navy and assure the same state for the land force within the next 48 hours.

In the light of many allied troops putting a definite strain on supply roads, one of his first suggestions to Marshal Bouglione would be to have the Royal Pioneers join their Aquitanian comrades in expanding and reinforcing the roads leading to the Ligne Rouge to ensure a steady flux of supply.
 

Warre

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May 13, 2010
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Warr
Incident 7;
Location:An Cathrach na Bhfiachclocha [The City of Ravenstones]; Formerly 'Der Stadt Von Gilrae'

It was dawn, and the battle still waged on. For days, warriors & weapons of all shapes and sizes; of all specialties and sensibilities, had flooded into Freiheit. Enough troops had moved in through the northern peninsula that by the time the constant bombings brought about from the Tyskreich made Griffins and the Andaluzian made 'Wyverns' in their glorious symphony, and the artillery strikes battering the Naomhgabhar/Grau Mountain and the Freiheiters who had turned Guerilla, there was a great deal of force present, fortifications had been secured, and messengers had gained peace of the various cities and townships around the northern areas.

By the High King's orders, the only surrender which would be accepted would be at city, neighborhood, or family levels. Any form of government higher than that would be too high. The people would be guaranteed peace within the gods' will, and if they saw fit to abide by their lord the Ard Ri of Warre's will, they would be 'out of this hellish situation as quickly as possible'. But in exchange for this promise, Freiheiter Guerillas were to be turned over or to turn themselves over to the High King's forces, be they Royal Marines, be they Paratroopers, be they army. Any Guerilla or indeed any Freiheiter found with a firearm above the caliber of a pistol, would be executed without hesitation. So the words were given, and so things stood to be.

Now within the Cathrach na Bhfiachclocha, the City of Ravenstones; formerly 'Der Stadt Von Gilrae'; such a situation was being proved. A few high priority targets within Freiheit's 'northern army' had been located. [Surprising what food and protection will do to bring zeal of boys and girls to go looking for people with certain features.] One had dropped to his knee, begged forgiveness, and spoke of how he had done what he did only because of orders; because he didn't want to be executed before he could see his grandchildren. He had proved his remorse, too, while getting shot in the shoulder by trying to protect an Otchi child. So he was sent to Lumina, in chains; the new duke of Bhfriachclocha had made the decision that this man could only be judged by the High King's justice. Reports they had read through said that despite his age; he was passed over for promotions for 'errors in judgement' involving the Otchi.

But two others; 'Herr Johann Von Franken'; or as the Warreic CuNaAodh* called him 'Johann Der Frankenstein' from the way he goose-stepped in his boots, trying to be subtle as the Mahogany Uniformed Hunters came closer and closer, before swooping. Like the monster of old, he tried to flee, but unlike the monster of old, he wasn't being chased with flames. A Warreic CN-7's harpoon had ended his fleeing, and through the rubble he was dragged, like an oversized trout to dinner. The other; Joachim Ackermann; he had put up more of a fight. A few former Freiheit soldiers, or maybe students he just equipped with weapons -no matter as leveling weapons made them francs-tireurs, which by Warreic order were to be slain there and then-. A vicious and quick firefight had brought an end to it, and Ackermann, who had surrendered as soon as he saw three of his followers killed by gunfire and one decapitated with what he would've sworn was a sword [Did these fucking Gaels really use swords still?]

Those two combatants stood before the blood-crimson haired, forest greened eyed commandant of the CuNaAodh stationed within Bhfriachclocha. Soon after, that brazen lass's call had come quick enough that while they sheltered and waited in the burned out courtyard of an old provincial school; the Duke himself came. Diúc Donnall MacSeabhac, of the House MacSeabhac; commander of the Warreic Marines who had been sent to occupy Gilrae.

Without even hoods over there heads, the Freiheiter officers knelt in front of the loaded rifles, machine guns, and shotguns of the CuNaAodh. Von Franken didn't even have a chance of running, with the damage the Harpoon had done to his right leg. The Diúc arrived, and the sound of the armed vehicles rolling in from the suburb of 'Tuirlingthe' [Landing], alerted the forces, and the kneeling Freiheiters were shuffled from the courtyard, out into the street. Dozens of citizens of the former Gilrae shuffled to see the commotion, and as a stony bench was brought forward, they wondered even more. Harshly and without hesitation, the Warreic special forces shoved Von Franken forward, and fastened his hands to the bench.

The golden haired german cringed, 'what the fuck do you think you're doing, your psychotic fuckers!' he roared in English; assuming that the Warreic would not understand a lick of High German or German at all. The Duke, however, answered him.

“As a due agent of the High King of Warre, Sovereign of this land and all Warres, it is my duty to inform you that you have been found guilty for treason, murder, terrorism, and numerous other acts which under the penal act of Nine Teen Hundred and Seventy Second year of our Jesus Christ, there is only one answer. Furthermore; as the King's duly appointed representative in this district; it is my duty to whet out the punishment for these crimes. In the eyes of the gods, and all civilized men, there is only one punishment.” The ebon haired duke gave a steely glance at the Freiheiter, before motioning to one of his subordinates. A sword; a Claidheamh Mòr [Claymore], which looked to be fairly sharp. The Duke gave a nod. “May you find retribution a hundred fold for your crimes.” And then he took the Claymore, he swung. The Freiheit Army Officer's head rolled forward in a rain of blood, the crows which had given this city it's new name cawing feverishly at the sight.

The brave and hard fighting Aldermann tried to flee at that sight, but with a few riflebutts to his face and shoulders, he was shuffled forward by force, Von Franken's body was removed. Aldermann was put into the same position. “As a due agent of the High King of Warre, Sovereign of this land and all Warres, it is my duty to inform you that you have been found guilty for treason, murder, terrorism, and numerous other acts which under the penal act of Nine Teen Hundred and Seventy Second year of our Jesus Christ, there is only one answer. Furthermore; as the King's duly appointed representative in this district; it is my duty to whet out the punishment for these crimes. In the eyes of the gods, and all civilized men, there is only one punishment. May you find retribution a hundred fold for your crimes.”

The Claymore was wiped of the blood of Von Franken, and then the Duke repeated his effort. Aldermann's head was severed in the same matter, blood spraying and the head rolling forward. The Ebon haired duke roared like a great hound. “And let you crowd know, this is the punishment for any who commit to the cause of the treasonous 'Freiheit'. Our society can be loving and just or hate-filled and relentless. Do not betray your new Kingdom, and you will have happy, healthy lives within due time. Help the cause of defeating any Freiheiter Army terrorists who might be still hanging on to the hope of stealing this province from us a second time, and you will see the rewards of your sovereign's great will. Undermine our cause, and you will find yourself on this chopping block, or your loved ones. This meeting is over, and if anyone can contact the family of Johann Von Franken or Joachim Aldermann. Tell them they may collect their dead. Slainte, 'Ní féidir do naimhde a bheith láidir go leor chun ghéar a choimeád agat ach lag go leor chun tú a mharú'**.”



[*A form of special forces, specifically named 'Hounds of Aodh' because of their accountability only to the High King's house itself].
**'May your enemies be strong enough to keep you sharp but weak enough to not kill you.'
 
Joined
Apr 18, 2010
Messages
1,109
Location
The South
Northwestern Aquitania,
1100 Hours
Coalition Landing Zone


It wasn't untill nearly noon that the Makai Relief Convoy was able to find berths in the crowded, hastily erected additional harbours of what had once been a small Aquitanian fishing village. Freiheit was closed to all non-Sarmatian traffic, and, not willing to risk the safety of his ships, Captain Kameha had reluctantly agreed to land in Aquitania. After hours of wrangling with Port Authorities, he watched sardonically as their ship finally slid up to a narrow, hastily erected jetty of prefabricated plywood.

Everything was still basically anarchy, but of a more organised kind. "Hurry up and wait" was the slogan he remembered from his days serving in the Anglyn Navy. With Freiheit forces still at large, and the Border swarming with troops, it had been up to Coalition Authorities to establish new landing zones and clear space in overcrowded harbours for relief ships coming in. Something that had not been given a high priority, as most were eager only to establish their own millitary berths so they could offload troops and race further inland to grab glory and battle the remaining Freiheit forces.

"Sir, a Coalition Representative is here. He says we can't offload any of our supplies for at least a week, untill a distribution camp can be set up, and security assured." reported his Midshipman, an eager and punctillious young University postgrad serving with the Coast Guard to get a decent severance fund to set up his own business back home.

Kameha merely grunted. "Madness. They trumpet the suffering of the Otchi at every opportunity, but dont seem to give a damn about the Freiheit civillians or the Aquitanians. Look! I can see men smashing into crates with crowbars over there, and grabbing long rotted bags of flour by the armful. Are they dockworkers? I don't think so!"
Even as he spoke, Coalition soldiers ran after the men, shouting at them in their own native languages to stop, as rotted flour spilled onto the broken granite of the harbour yards.

"The Freiheit Invasion stopped everything in this town, and is still killing them- with hunger, with neglect, and definitely with bullets." He sighed, regretfully, before coming to a decision.
"Tell the Representative that the Makai Republic will set up its own distribution camp, assure its own security, and get this damn job done now."
Kameha had little time for the red tape, and would go toe-to-toe with any pencil-pusher who tried to tell him to do things otherwise.
"But sir, we can't just-"
"Can't we? We offload our supplies, right now, right here. Tell the Agency people, Camp Hope is opening right here on the Dockside, if need be. Get the L90s loaded and get the Millitamen out there beating heads and asserting security through their presence. Shoot a few looters and get the word out in German that Food and Water is available here, for free."
He drew out a long, fat Radilan cigar from his deep backpocket. "Had been saving this, but..." he lit it expertly, with a weatherbeaten lighter emblazoned with the crest of the Anglyn Royal Navy. "Lets get to work."

Without further ado, the Makai Millita sprang into action, barging past a protesting representative, nodding at the weary and overstretched Coalition MPs, and directly seeking Command Posts to report to, and integrate themselves immediately into the Peacekeeping effort. The aid may be coming to Aquitanians instead, but they were no less deserving, no less victims of a cruel and barbaric regime. It would have to do, for now.

Non-combatant NGO and Aidworkers quickly sprung into action themselves, manning old, beaten up cranes and offloading the cargo delicately and slowly with their own sweat. Tents sprang up in between the abandoned cargo containers of weeks-old produce, and slowly but surely, a small but efficient effort to distribute a small amount of aid began to unfold.

By nightfall, the cigar long smoked away, Captain Kameha found himself exhausted from trying to co-ordinate the offloading of the entire Convoy, and get direct communication between this small contigent and the Larger Occupational Forces established.

It had been a long day, and would be an even longer night. Operation Hope had begun.
 
Joined
Jun 10, 2008
Messages
1,607
Location
California
Army Headquarters
Dax, Gascogne
Grand Duchy of Aquitania


Lieutenant General Henry Braddock, at fifty-six year old, is what one would call a professional soldier. A native son of Guiana, born in Georgetown, receiving a degree in engineering at Georgetown University during which he obtained a commission in the Guianan Territorial Guard, selected for attend the Officiers Training College in Linden after graduation, when he was given a regular commission, he then went onto advanced combat training, and after that, and surviving its training, served in the Guianan SAS. It is in the SAS where much of Braddock's combat experiences comes from, though in those younger day most of the reports and records of those missions are sealed and labeled TOP SECRET, those who actually know his record, conbined with the experience of commanding regular army troops, from company level to brigade, they consider him one of the most experienced officers in the Royal Guianese Army. Now it is up to Henry Braddock to use that extensive experience and training as the commander of 1st Corps.

As has been case since the Great War, if Aquitania ever came under attack or for any reason military forces were needed in Guiana's northern neighbor, it would be the 1st Corps that would be the first sent to fulfill Guiana's duty to its ally and so it was the 1st Corps, its battalions, regiments and brigades, along with its attached air contingents, that had been ordered to move to positions in Aquitania, even before the Security Council had authorized the Coalition. Now that the combat and support units are moving into position to support the Aquitanians, it is the commander of the 1st Corps, Lt. Gen. Henry Braddock, that arrives at the Aquitanian 1st Army headquarters, where he finds his Franken counterpart, Generalmajor Beaumont already waiting to meet with the man that, at least where Guiana is concerned, would be in startegic command of military operations, Marshal Alexandre de Bouglione.
 

Radilo

Establishing Nation
Joined
Jan 5, 2010
Messages
1,260
Location
Cleveland
Capital
Nuovo Porto
Nick
Nutty's better half
Coalition Forces Headquarters, Dax

The tank convoy had finished its haul and had arrived at the command centre. Colonel Dandrews was still a tad pissy from the drive. So with a bottle of Portier Green Label in his hand he headed towards the commander’s field office.

“Maréchal Bouglione, I am Colonel Jacques Dandrews of the Republican Armed Forces. I am to serve under you as commandant of a cavalry detachment.”

“Welcome to le front, Colonel,” said the Marshal, noticing the beer bottle in the black man’s hand, “Dear lord, do you Radilans always drink?”

“It’s called liquid courage… would you care for one?”

“I’m fine thank you.”


(OOC: This took place after or before the marechal met with the Black Robe guy, Aquitania’s choice… sorry for a tad of god-modding.)
 
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