voices from the front.

[Bezonvaux]

December 5th, 1956, Tremere city outskirts

Diego hid behind the tank, it had ran out of petrol and ammunition some days ago , the crew were long gone either captured or dead but the tank remained and was as good as place as any to hide behind. he looked around, he seemed to be all alone amidst the ruins of the city but still he refused to move, rooted to the spot with fear after all just because you couldn't see them didn't mean the Reds weren't there.

he and his section had marched in to Tremere full of revolutionary zeal eager to smash the Red League cover themselves in glory and be home before Christmas, this had not transpired, instead of smashing the Reds, Diego and his comrades were the ones being smashed and whatever he was covered in it certainly was not glory, and he did not believe he would return home at all let alone in time for Christmas.

suddenly he heard voices from across the plaza, he clutched his rifle, a relic from the start of the century that should be in a museum rather than a war-zone, the Commonwealth was desperate for weapons and couldn't produce enough to keep up with demand, especially with the nations industrial heartland firmly under Red League control. He listened intently, the trouble with civil wars was he mused that everyone looked and spoke the same meaning that you had no idea who was a friend or foe before it was too late.

" any one out there, come out we promise not to shoot we promise to treat you well".

Diego did not believe that for one second, the voices sounded closer . he heard another man speak

" why the hell did you think that would work you idiot? anyway no ones here we better find the rest of the column".

Diego was panicking now they were getting closer and closer, they had to part of the Red Assault Columns, hard men used to a life of violence unable or unwilling to integrate back into civilian life, he couldn't surrender...they RACs had an reputation for not taking prisoners, there seemed to be only two of them....he'd have to try and fight.

He leaped out from behind the tank frantically working the bolt on this ancient rifle, one of the RAC men dropped clutching his chest the other barely had time to exclaim before Diego's second shot caught him right in the throat.

Diego looked around him...more Reds would come looking for their fallen comrades time to make a run for it, he ditched his rifle and his armband...all that stood for a uniform among the Popular Militia, he'd simply be another refugee fleeing the fighting, nobody would notice he was gone, and maybe he would be home in time for christmas

 

[Bezonvaux]

Francois Valois popped another antacid.....the stress of the job was playing havoc with his indigestion that and the fact he hadn't had a proper meal in days he'd been too stressed to sleep, too busy to go home, recently he'd taken to sleeping whenever he could in his office. Tremere had fallen to the Reds and now they were marching towards the capital, with the Tremere front collapsed the Saulot and Borovanger City Military Syndicate would have to fall back to defend Borovanger City giving up even more of the country up to the Reds. he glanced at another report on his desk, causalities from the front..only a estimate of course no one knew for sure how many were dead or had simply defected or deserted...they needed more men or more aptly they needed more trained me

And to make matters worse that madman Ortega was rallying exiles to his banner from his refuge somewhere in Axeldonia, rumour has it that he had been receiving some level of foreign backing but to what extent remained unknown.

 

[Bezonvaux]

a country manor somewhere in Axeldonia

Bishop Ignatius Sierra read the letter back to front again and again, it was clearly addressed to the League of Saint Goratrix, personally he was not a lover of the name but Miguel his assistant had coined the term to describe their community of exiled clergy and evidently it has caught on. the letter was from someone claiming to be a representative of a foreign government looking to support his movement and help them to return home. certainly their support whoever they were was more than welcome...although he did find it surprising that a foreign power would look to him rather then someone more like the Ortega, whatever his faults the Grand Duke was a natural leader of men, feared and respected...well feared more than anything. But it was a mystery why anyone would want to support an old priests rise to power.

he folded the letter and secreted within his desk, he still had a good deal of contacts within Borovanger and he would need to start work immediately.

 

[Ashkelon]

MV Silene, Gothic Sea

Captain Sir Karl Behringer gazed out of the bridge of the cargo ship, past the rolling fog that crept over the icy waves of the Gothic. They were due to arrive at Axeldonia soon, with a shipment of one dozen old A-44 jets for the use of the League of St. Goratrix. Now, Behringer himself knew little of St. Goratrix, what with his own organization swearing to uphold the ideas of St. George the Dragon Slayer. But it was clear that the Knights of St. George of the Dragonheart should be the ones to deal with those of a similar standing, one might say. From one Catholic Order to another, as the Archduke had explained to them.

While he personally would have preferred delivering these to Duke Ortega, he understood the Combine's concerns that the Duke veered a little too far to the right. Furthermore, he already understood that the role of assisting the Duke was handed over to their Catholic brothers in the holy and righteous Commonwealth of Tizona-Colada. While he did not doubt the righteousness of the Tizonians to be serving with a warrior like Ortega, he Behringer did feel a slight pang of insecurity. Were the Knights of St. George not worthy of this honor?

Then again, the same could be said of the other Militant Orders of Ascalon, from which the Combine had many to choose to ferry the jets. The Knights were worthy. So were the New Zealots, who were said to be following suit with their own shipment of jets. And with that, the captain adjusted his cap and carried on. He would serve the order proudly, and accomplish his mission to deliver this new hardware to the League of St. Goratrix.

"Let the Bishop know of our arrival," he announced to his comms officer. "Send them a telegram as soon as we land."

"Aye, Captain."

 

[Bezonvaux]

the Bishop Ignatius Sierra had chosen to forgo wearing his clerical vestment today, the sight of a group of clergymen driving through the city would be bound draw suspicion. He was meeting a Jewish knight from Ashkelon delivering aeroplanes , truly we live in an interesting times thought the Bishop. He was travelling with a small armed escort, Miguel his secretary had insisted on it, although Sierra felt that the young Deacon was more than a little paranoid but then again revolutions tended to do that to people.

He and his escort exited the automobile and headed towards the cargo ship, his escorts followed suit glancing around nervously as if a legion of Marxists could emerge at any moment.

he spied the captain standing on the deck. he debated which language to address the man with, the Borovangen dialect was a hodgepodge of Andaluz,Tizonian and Frankish and near unintelligible to most foreigners....he decided on English certainly the captain would be a man of the world and could understand the language.

" Shalom my friend I am the Bishop Ignatius Sierra, I do believe you mean to help us return to our homeland, I thank you on the behalf of the Borovangen people, after all with allies such as Ashkelon how could we fail"?

 

[Ashkelon]

"Your Excellency!" Behringer removed his hat at once, bowing to kiss the Bishop's ring. "I do apologize for any confusion we have wrought, but I believe the New Zealots and their shipment will not be arriving until later today. Our Order goes back to the Crusades, and serves under the Pope."

His response was apologetic in its correction of the misunderstanding. Because surely, the only way the Bishop could have mistaken him for a member of the New Zealots was the lack of any identifying markings on the ship, at least for the moment. He went on to introduce himself. "I am Brother Karl of the Knights of St. George of the Dragonheart. We are honoured to be able to assist you in returning home to your land. Our Order is one of several others, who along with the citizens of Ashkelon, feel for the plight of your people. As such, we have decided to take action."

He gestured towards the cargo containers secured amidships. "We have twelve Ashkeloni jets for the war against the communist menace. They are second-hand, but are in top condition, and have served the Combine Defence Corps well in the previous decade. Several more batches are on the way."

 

[Bezonvaux]

" please forgive by ignorance kind sir I am but a simple country priest ill schooled in the wider world, yes these fine machines will do nicely I think, and fittingly there are twelve planes for twelve apostles, truly an auspicious omen for our first meeting, I think perhaps god is truly on our side in this [FONT=arial, sans-serif]endeavor.

" come Sir Karl let us toast to our alliance, Miguel fetch some glasses..and the "78"Albacente today is a day to be celebrated.
[/FONT]

 

[Ashkelon]

Karl marvelled at the Bishop's humility. It was an honest mistake, and he certainly did not need to explain his position. And yet, he did so. The Knight bowed in respect. "Please, Your Excellency. You need not worry yourself over such things. This world truly is a large one, and we all have things we are ignorant of."

At the very least, the Bishop had the courage to take this position of leadership in such trying times for his people. That alone was already enough for much admiration. He nodded at the Bishop's insight on the number of fighters in this first batch. To one such as Behringer, it was just the size of a full squadron, and not much more. But in this case, it took a civilian's perspective to put another nugget of thought into his mind. "It is for the liberation of a faithful people, Your Excellency. I am confident that the Lord's hand is at work."

"Your hospitality warms my heart, Your Excellency." The captain signalled to his crew, and they got to work. Modern knights clad in ballistic vests and armed with assault rifles deployed, securing the ship, the transports, and the path in between them. The Order might not have been government backed, but they had some very good private funding to continue doing their good work.

"My men will begin offloading the planes while we celebrate." Karl started towards his quarters, the safest place on the ship. One could never be too careful of a communist ambush these days. "Please, follow me, Your Excellency. There is no other place I would try to relax."

 

[Bezonvaux]

when inside the cabin, Ignatius started up their conversation" so Sir Karl I do not wish to appear ungrateful but alongside these fine machines does your nation intend to provide us with small arms, we know of many good Christians willingly to fight and die for the cause if only they had the means, if you were to provide us with weapons we would be able to ensure that they make it into the right hands, but enough of business...Miguel our host appears quite parched".

 

[Bezonvaux]

Saro Province, Saro Citizen Guard Headquarters, December 1956.

Augusto Valera cursed his superiors being a guard captain in the nations most unruly province was hard enough, before his superiors statement to the press there had been something of an uneasy peace in the province, once in a while the terrorists would blow up a building or shoot some bureaucrat..this wasn't too bad, the repairs were good for the local construction industry and a few less tax collectors generally made the world a better place. but that all changed when the Regional Commander of the Popular Militia made a public vow that " the subversive elements would be hunted down with extreme prejudice", ever since then there had been seven bombings, four shootings and half a dozen acts of sabotage. to make matters worse most of his men refused to show up for work after what happened to constables Vargas and Mendoza...if he was lucky maybe they'd fire him but knowing his luck......

 

[Bezonvaux]

National Salvation Committee Headquarters, Axeldonia

Grand-Duke Guilliam Ortega looked over at the papers on his desk, the latest reports had just come in detailing the strength of the Borovangen National Army, they had little over eleven thousand men..and ten thousand of them were cejek volunteers, the rest were all Borovangen but still it would not be enough to retake his homeland. No not nearly enough..he would have to go crawling to the Bishop and beg for the manpower he needed, but if it helped to overthrow the red's and the socialist's then it was worth swallowing his pride.

 

[Bezonvaux]

THE PRIEST ,THE WARLORD AND THE PRINCE.

the three men met in a quiet corner of a cafe, the cafe's previous occupants had be ushered out by members of the National Salvation Committee who now stood guard around the building, weapons at the ready ever watchful for any sides of danger. The delegation from the League of Saint Goratrix was decidedly more relaxed, none of them were armed and they had the air of a group of tourists out for a day trip rather than exiles attending a clandestine meeting. the last delegation representing the Legitimists to arrive was the smallest only three old men, one of which had to be helped out of the car by a nearby NSC member.


the Grand-Duke had been first to arrive, something of a power play after all to any observers it would appear that e was the most important man there,since the two other men were coming to meet him, the armed guards surrounding the cafe where ostensibly there to provide security but their main duty was to intimidate the other delegations. the Bishop and his entourage appeared rather unfazed by their surroundings, the Legitmists on the other hand seemed to be rather nervous being surrounded by several heavily armed men and where constantly looking around,The Grand-Duke was the first to speak.

" Greetings gentlemen, I hope you all had a pleasant journey" he looked around" I take it Mr Valemera will not be attending".

One of the Legitimist's cleared his throat" no..his highness the prince is wintering in Andaluz..he finds the weather in Axeldonia most disagreeable, I am Count Hugo de Hauteville I will be the princes representative on this occasion".

the Bishop spoke " perhaps gentlemen we could get to business, I hope that this will be our last winter in Axeldonia, now I believe the Grand-Duke has arranged this meeting to discuss the retaking of our homeland, moreover with regards to his land of manpower and popular support".

the Grand-Duke glowered at this, as much as he loathed the Bishop he was right. the National Salvation Committee had plenty of officers among its ranks but precious few ordinary people had joined its ranks. the Bishop on the other hand at the the opposite problem, he had thousands of supporters but hardly any with any military experience.

" perhaps your grace we should combine our forces...I will send men and officers to train your supporters in modern warfare and in return you will appoint me commander in chief of all loyalist forces and ensure that all your supporters recognize my authority".

" certainly your grace, I would welcome your support and I would certainly accept your authority as commander of the loyalists forces, however once the war is over, you will step down and allow a provisional government to take charge, those are my terms, Borovanger must have democracy .

Count Hugo barked out" here here, furthermore in return for our support the prince must be crowned and the Valemera dynasty returned to prominence...in a constitutional monarchy of course ".

The Grand-Duke sighed " fine the Valemera dynasty will ascend to the throne..I will be made commander in chief for the duration of the war, then a provisional government will take charge, my supporters and I will be part of this government and I wish to be given a position of authority in the new regime is this understood".

"certainly your grace, I do believe we have reached a compromise" he raised his glass " Viva Borovanger".

the room echoed with the cry

" Viva Borovanger"

 

[Bezonvaux]

an undisclosed location in Saro Province, Borovanger, 9th of January 1957.

Captain Raoul Vega mused that training the Cruzados in modern warfare was in a way much like trying to herd cats, most of the time they refused to follow orders instead preferring to follow their own judgement and the less said about the state of their equipment the better. That being said their skills at field-craft were superb and they all had a religious zeal bordering on the fanatical. still despite all this Raoul couldn't help but think that they were still far from ready, but Ortega had given his orders the Cruzados had to be made combat ready in a month so here he was in the arse end of nowhere trying to turn peasants into soldiers.


just outside the village of Salubri, Greater Borovanger, 9th of January 1957.

the war had ground to halt in the past months, the winter weather had turned the ground into a quagmire and prevented either side from making any meaningful gains. Artuto Perez huddled in the ruins of a house trying to keep warm and dry in the middle of the winter downpour..the section commander had forbade the use of fires after all Red snipers could be anywhere, while this did make a kind of sense it did not endear the section commander to his men.


Tremere City, Red League Head Quarters( formerly the Bella Vista hotel) 9th of January 1957.

Commissar Miguel Goya wished he was at the front fighting the Prometheists instead here he was hunting down reactionaries in a ruined city ,worryingly these reactionary bandits had increased in number in the past few weeks, they'd captured on of these reactionaries trying to sabotage a telephone line, the would be saboteur was currently enjoying the Red Leagues hospitality in the hotel basement...unfortunately he had yet to divulge his name or the names of his associates but Miguel was confident the would get the to truth it just might take a little time.

 

[Bezonvaux]

National Salvation Committee headquarters, Axeldonia

the Grand-Duke looked over the latest plans for the invasion.

the planned liberation of Borovanger had ran into something of a problem, they had too many men or rather they had too few ships, if they attempted a landing at this stage they could only transport a few thousand men at a time if that, such a force would easily be destroyed by the Prometheists or the Red League. the combined exiled movements could not afford to buy new ships, most of their dwindling supplies went to feeding and sheltering their own troops and what little money was left over went to the the Cruzados.

of course were they to attempt a landing with the ships available the conditions aboard would be atrocious, there would barely be room to move on any of the vessels, and the voyage would take at least several days to complete, after such an ordeal who knows what state the men aboard would be in? But they could not prolong in invasion indefinitely, the cost of feeding and sheltering over ten thousand men was astronomical and the Duke doubted they could keep it up for long.

no he had gone too far to give up now the invasion must proceed as planned.