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"Be as quiet as a pin," the designers always said, "so you can hear mouse droppings."
| QUOTE (President Yasmine Dala'a) | "My fellow Nedalians, the moment Starblaydia declared war on The Lowland Clans was the moment Viannor went to war with The Free Lands of Nedalia. The moment Starblaydia moved its troops south towards The Lowland Clans was the moment it ensured it would face the people and soldiers of The Free Lands of Nedalia. Viannor, if you're listening, and we all know you are, The Free Lands of Nedalia has its troops mobilized and ready to move to The Lowland Clans on a moment's notice. Freedom shall prevail, justice shall prevail, and under the protection of God, The Free Lands of Nedalia shall aid its allies in their time of need and together, all that is right in the Atlantian Oceania shall drive the menace back to its cave and lift the banner of freedom high over oppression!"
As the crowd began to go into a frenzy, Dala'a smiled and said with a wink:
"Freedom Truimphant!" |
Sunnis Battlefleet, just off the coast of Sinistra
The Nedalian President had, only a few days earlier, given battlecry to Nedalia and the Strategic Defense League, to take on Stgarblaydia, with might and purity and all the usual rubbish. Words are good, but as the saying goes, actions are better. While Democracies used words more freely than most, tyrannts used action, force and destruction with abandon.
The force Starblaydia, Viannor, the Sunnis Fleet, the Purple Peril, the RAWRCRUSHers - however their terms of address - were about to unleash on Nedalia was destruction on the largest scale so far in the war. It would mark the beginning of a new front and also a warning, to those who string pretty words together in an attempt to rouse their populations with... whatever the intention was to begin with.
Admiral Hierro was tasked with carrying the mission out. He had known that his Sunnis battlefleet would be tasked with defending Hypocria for most of the war. That suited him fine, Hierro had always been a man to take on all comers, rather than to go looking for trouble. He would be provoking that trouble, he thought as the latest imagery of Honsfield harbour came up on the screen.
"Look at all those lovely cans," he said aloud, "all sitting in the flow of the Drongo River as it moves out into the sea. And all those sharks in the water, too. A pity. Do we have any shots including the castle? I've not seen it before."
"I hope one misses and hits the stadium," an Ensign mused quietly, "would be funny to see that giant traitor's club go up."
Hierro frowned, passing his eyes over an aerial view of the ancient Honsfield castle, he'd never been certain that Armando Gomez had actually defected to Krytenia, or why exactly Viannor had practically ex-communicated him from Starblaydi society. Whatever the reason, the ex-wrestler and vodka proprietor owned a football club in the city he was about to bomb. He sighed, and gave the order.
"The code phrase is 'Ay, ay, ay, buy CD!'" He said. That phrase - when not a code, would make sense to about half a dozen people on the planet, and none of them were within a thousand miles. Hierro sighed again, mostly at the odd looks he got for the phrase, noting that he was very alone down here.
PNS Submarine Silent Henry, south of Nedalia
"Incoming transmission," the communications officer said. Quietly. He passed it to the captain, who read the words 'Ay, ay, ay, buy CD!'.
He knew that himself and two other captains, those on the Silent Brady and Silent Adams had just received the message, encrypted, on their Very High Frequency radios. The Silent-class were truly that, Starblaydia's finest piece of submarine engineering in noise reduction. The fluid dynamics were superb, engine noises practically zero, the crew were practically Trappist Monks. The disadvantages of the class were that the engines moved the great behemoth at about swimming speed, while they also had no defensive capabilities - such pithy things as torpedoes - to keep themselves alive. All they had was their silence, and that had been enough so far.
What they were about to demostrate now, however, was their offensive capabilities. The Silent-class were Arsenal submarines, loaded with sixty supersonic cruise missiles. Well over a thousand pounds of explosives (over 500kg) packed ther warhead, with the idea of sinking ships and destroying fortified buildings and bunkers. The targets today, picked by the intelligence and strategy boffins, was Nedalia's fleet at anchor in Honsfield harbour.
Slowly, nerve-tinglingly slowly, the submarines came to the surface. Tests had shown that the missile flight path, and therefore accuracy, was actually increased by not shooting them through water first. All across the top deck, hatches slid open and evil, glittering engines of death were revealed. A gout of flame, a shot of smoke, and one missile leapt from it's bay. Then another, then another. In total one hundred and sixty missiles were unleashed and heading at a very low, almost sea-skimming altitude, for Honsfield and the Nedalian fleet that sat there. Ships of all sizes, mostly 'huge', were targeted, along with power stations, command and control buildings and radar stations.
Quickly the boats returned to the deep and headed for home. The first missiles would be striking - or being shot down - before they even reached fifty feet.
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Nedalia would change forever in one split second. In all of the country's long, fascinating history, never once had it been hit by an outside force, not even by something as miniscule as a pebble. In one split second, the nation went from never being touched to having its largest coastal city's shoreline torched into flames.
It was early morning, and the sun had just begun to shine on the South Seas which washed up onto Honsfield, or more accurately, onto the Derrafin Naval and Army Base based in the city. The soldiers were up and running, patrol crafts were coming in from their nightly shifts, to be replaced by fresh boats and their crew.
Located out of the Derrafin Naval Base was the Ibis Fleet, made up of 8 Adamant Class Battleship (Sarzonian made), 2 Vigilant Class SD (Sarzonian made), 25 PC-II patrol crafts, 4 AC-I aircraft carriers, 2 AC-II aircraft carriers, 6 AC-III aircraft carriers, 12 CS-I cruisers, 8 BC-I battleships, 25 DC-I destroyers, 30 FC-I frigates, and 22 SS-I submarines.
The Vigilant Class superdreadnoughts were, quite rightfully, the stars of the fleet, protected at all times by the 8 other Sarzonian made vessels on the fleet; the Adamant class battleships. The aircraft carriers came in 3 sizes; the smallest was also the newest, the AC-III, a lightweight carrier which could take be sent to take of the smaller missions that wouldnt require the AC-Is or the AC-IIs. The CS-Is and the BC-Is served one purpose: destroy anything, and destroy them dramatically. Capable of Anti-Air, Anti-Surface, and Anti-Sea action, they were relied on heavily when push came to shove. For all quick hits and Anti-Submarine action, the DC-Is and FC-Is were the ones to turn to, and for scouting missions and light battle, the PC-IIs did the job perfectly. The SS-Is were nuclear capable, damage intensive, and stealth heavy.
It was the Ibis fleet that was the initial target. Perhaps the sheer size or the sheer power of the fleet was a threat, or perhaps the base that served it. That was what was running through the minds of many as missiles hit vessel after vessel in the first round of fire. A complete surprise attack, for the first time ever, on Nedalian soil. Just one minute later, however, it became easy to come to the realization that the fleet wasn't the only target.
The second wave of missiles came screeching into Honsfield itself; downtown Honsfield. The Gurhar Life Insurance Building, a 45 story landmark of the city, was hit by 5 missiles, with fires erupting throughout the building. Similar scenes befell the Franks Museum on Derbell Street and the Julannes Tower, the 3rd tallest building in the city. A wave of missiles also hit the Icon Condominium Towers overlooking the South Seas, a residential luxury condo building which served as the residence for quite a few prominent businessmen and businesswomen in the area. Overall, almost 30 missiles hit downtown Honsfield, and 80 made hit the Derrifan Base.
The most destructive two minutes that the country, perhaps the region, had ever witnessed.
With flames engulfing the Derrifan Naval and Army Base and fires erupting throughout downtown Honsfield, the city, Nedalia's 4th largest, resembled a warzone. Black smoke rose from the business district as police, firefighters, and soldiers rushed to put out fires and save lives. Three buildings, the tallest being 12 stories, collapsed, adding to the misery that had already captivated the city. All in two minutes.
As word got to Kafra, the instructions from Commander Horacio and President Dala'a was clear: send one part of the Ibis Fleet east into the channel between Bettia and Spruitland, one south into the South Seas. In less than 30 minutes after the instructions were given, 8 PC-IIs, 2 BC-Is, and 1 AC-III (equipped with 20 F-4 'Bird of Prey') headed east into the channel, with the same amount heading south. Whoever had planned this attack was to be uncovered, and was going to pay. The hastily planned counter-attack was just that; hastily planned. The frustration from Kafra, to go along with the tears and emotion, could not allow such pathetic and cowardly actions to go unpunished. Honsfield was to be avenged.
Airports in southern and western Nedalia grounded all planes and all other southern coastal cities were placed on the highest alert. As the nation watched in complete horror the pictures from Honsfield, grieving and mourning over the biggest act of terrrorism to be swept onto the Nedalian people, one thing had become terribly obvious: Defense was no longer an option.
Damage done to the Ibis Fleet: 1 AC-II, 1 AC-I, 6 PC-II, 1 Adamant, and 4 DC-I damaged beyond repair and/or sunk.
Military Casualties: Approx. 945 soldiers killed, 2130 injured.
Buildings Damaged: 19 non-military buildings damaged; 3 collapsed.
Civilian Casualties: Approx. 2560 killed, 3145 injured.
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"...With us now is Sandra Coast, who is live in Honsfield. Sandra?"
"I'm with you, Brian."
"Sandra, the nation is in a state of shock. What happened?"
"Well, Brian, from what I can make out after asking several NGA and Honsfield Metro Police, the city was hit by two waves of missile attacks, presumably coming from the sea, the first wave apparently targeting the Derrifan Base and the second wave being shot at downtown Honsfield itself. What remains unclear amidst all this rubble is how many missiles were shot exactly, but there is no doubt; these were no home-made missiles. To have caused such widescale destruction...these were state-of-the-art, military made missiles."
"Tell us in detail about the attacks, Sandra."
"The first wave of missiles hit the Derrifan Base, and although official word has not been released from inside there, we can count atleast 8 vessels, 1 clearly being the Sarzonian made Adamant class battleship and 2 others we can make out as aircraft carriers, on fire at the moment. There has been conficting reports suggesting that anywhere between 1-3 ships have sank, but as I said, there has been no official word. The Ibis Fleet operates out of this base, and its one of the largest the Nedalian Navy has...it does have appeared to be the primary target of the attacks. We can make out atleast 3 ongoing fires inside the base, as well, with atleast another 2 places where black smoke is rising from."
"And what about outside the base?"
"We have confirmed that the Honsfield Power Plant just west of the Derrifan Base was also hit, which has rendered almost 1/3 of the city without electricty. The Honsfield Sewege Treatment Center was also directly targetted by what appears to be two missiles, and there has been leakage into the ocean. Those were apparently also targetted during the first wave."
"And the second wave that hit downtown Honsfield?"
"The second wave reportedly came just under a minute after the hits on the Derrifan Base and the power plant, directly hitting the Gurhar Life Insurance Building, the Julannes Tower, the Franks Museum, and the Icon, the largest luxury condo building in the city, amongst others. Three buildings have reportedly collapsed, the largest being the Buntar Trust Bank."
"I guess the burning question on everyone's mind is...how many dead, Sandra?"
"It's difficult to say, Brian, it's difficult to say, but from the sight of things here...not less than 1500 would be an early estimate. Ambulances have been choking traffic into downtown, and its very apparent that there lots of injuries. The Derrifan Base has been sealed off, so there is no way to get an estimate from there. What is painfully obvious, Brian, was the intention to directly hit civilian targets by these terrorists; the first wave of missiles hit the base, but the second wave hit nothing but civilian targets. There was a blunt intent to cause as much civilian damage as possible, aiming for downtown Honsfield itself, as well as the largest apartment building in the city. Very disturbing."
"Did the military actually get any of the missiles that were headed to Honsfield?"
"Yes, reports say that nearly half the missiles that were shot out from the south never reached their targets thanks to the military and their anti-missile defenses. I can only imagine what couldve been if they had, Brian."
"So where does the city go from here? Who was behind this?!"
"No one claimed responsibility, but initial fears are that this is a Starblaydi-Hypocrian attack. The only feasible way that these missiles could have been launched was through submarines, and submarines stealthy enough to get this close to Honsfield and launch so many missiles, well...that is not technology that most countries possess. As for the city of Honsfield, it is reeling from the attacks right now. Smoke is everywhere, the business district is a mess, and the Derrifan Base looks to be out of order for the time being. The power plant has been hit in a hard way...Brian, it's going to be a while before Honsfield returns to normal, if it ever does."
"Thank you, Sandra. That was Sandra Coast live from Honsfield. Stay with us for more on this breaking, remorseful news."
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EVERTON CITY, 00:12 AOTC
News of the Starblaydi attack reached their northern neighbours quickly. In the Presidential Palace, Dominique Domasca seethed.
"DAMMIT! That bitch is going to pay!"
She picked up the telephone and dialled.
"Hello, KAF Ashton? Get me Wing Commander Wells." A pause. "Well wake him! This is the President, dammit!"
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KRYTENIAN AIR FORCE BASE, ASHTON, 00:23 AOTC
Wing Commander Adrian Wells, still wearing his silk pyjamas under his uniform, addressed the night shift of pilots at the Krytenian Air Force's most south-westerly base.
"Alright men, we have our orders. We are to intercept and engage a flotilla of the Starblaydi Navy, believed to be somewhere to the south-west of Honsfield, Nedalia. Gemini Squadron, you will fly to this location as first wave - there will be three heavy bombers in your squad for any carriers you come across. Pegasus Squadron, give them all the back-up you can."
----
EVERTON CITY, 00:30 AOTC - OFFICIAL PRESIDENTIAL ANNOUNCEMENT
"After an attack so close to our borders, we cannot sit idly by and watch Viannor's tyranny any longer. It is with sympathy to our Nedalian neighbours that we make the following statement."
Pause.
"The United Provinces of Krytenia are now at war with Starblaydia."
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Krytenia |
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Now With Added Bekk! |
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Posts: 661 |
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The big screen in the High Command’s war-room displayed a live feed from Nedalia. As Vyntra watched he felt events spiral out of control before his eyes. The declaration of war against the Lowland Clans had been a token gesture, he had no intention to deploy any of the Autocracy’s forces in that area. He’d been quite content to ride out the war as it ravaged around the Bekk. But the attack on Honsfield had dropped the conflict right on his doorstep. And just to hammer home the point,
"No one claimed responsibility, but initial fears are that this is a Starblaydi-Hypocrian attack . . .”
At a gesture from the Autokrator the image disappeared.
“Marvellous. Bloody marvellous.”
He turned to the assembled military hierarchy.
“The game has changed and now we have no choice. Gentlemen. Mobilize.” |
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Khara was still in the middle of a meeting on the KNV Carain with the Lamonian admiral and his staff when the comms officer came knocking on the door of the admiral's quarters they where using for the occasion. Letting out a sigh, he excused himself once again and stood up to answer the door. The same comms officer from before was standing their. "I apologize for interrupting commander, but Minister Arani has just messaged us that Starblaydia has attacked Nedalia, missiles we believe." Khara's face became like stone as he sensed what was coming next.
"How many?" Khara asked the officer.
"They estimate no less than 1500 or so civilian casualties. We're still working on how many military there may have been." the officer responded.
Khara nodded. "Thank you." With that Khara shut the door and turned back towards the meeting. "I'm afraid I must attend to something else for now. Starblaydia has attacked Nedalia and killed no less than 1500 civilian casualties. I must see what help my nation can offer our allies." He turned to Admiral Voors. "I leave the rest of this in your capable hands." With that Khara left the room and headed towards the bridge. He found the same comms officer from before and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Patch me through to the palace in Archon City, I want to speak to Minister Arani." The officer nodded without eve turning to Khara. Within a few minutes a somewhat clear link had been established. "You may only have a few minutes commander. There's a rather nasty storm front moving in and we won't be able to maintain the connection for long."
"Mike, I'll make this brief. What do we have that we can send to help the Nedalians?" Khara said, waiting a bit for the reply.
"Well, we're still getting our conscripts assembled, and our fleets need more time to get fully operational." came the semi-clear response over the radio.
"Some time?! We where...oh nevermind. Listen, get as many medical supplies and relief workers as we can and send them to Nedalia as fast as you can. Give the transports a military escort. I don't want them being shot down. Meanwhile, get the damned fleets ready, we've got a war to fight!" said Khara, a few steps removed from screaming.
"As you you wish highness." came the response before they lost the signal. |
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"Holy sh--!"
"What?!"
"Nedalia been invaded?"
"By who?"
"Starblaydia, who else?'
"How do we know this?"
"First, intel our Nedalian spies told us but second, most things seem to indicate that and third and most importantly it was released by the Nedalian news stations"
"YOU COULD HAVE TOLD ME THAT!"
"I don't care, the point is we need to declare war on Starblaydia now! Then we go to Nedalia's aid and we crush the Starblaydi forces."
"Ok, sounds good"
To Atlantian Oceania, official release from the Milchamian Government:
We declare War on Starblaydia and the whole of SAAS for their aggressive actions in Nedalia and we pledge to help Nedalia and all other nations in their crushing of the Starblaydi menace to AO.
Signed,
Great Leader Tim Gonnenberg
This post has been edited by Milchama on Oct 10 2006, 03:52 PM |
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Location: Ocean west of Nedalia
Captain Jerome Hill was having a very fruitless day.
"Base, this is Green Leader. We have a negative sighting."
* * * * *
Location: KAF Ashton
"Sir, latest pictures from COPS."
Wing Commander Wells looked at the pictures. Even though the Space Agency's vector graphics software had made a good zoom of the area, there was, indeed, nothing there.
"Subs! The bastards used subs!"
Wells picked up the phone.
* * * * *
Location: MINDEF, Everton City
"Thank you, Mr Wells."
Forces Marshall Thomas Kinkladze, top man of the Krytenian Armed Forces, sighed.
"Right, let's get two patrols of twenty ships patrolling that patch of sea; and another thirty between Spritland and Bettia. If there are subs, they'll have to surface sometime. Oh, and get the Space Agency to train COPS on that region, they've got to have a fleet around somewhere."
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Krytenia |
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Richard Wauwerman, Spruitland’s Minister of Tourism, was exhausted. He had barely slept at all during the past 72 hours. But the idea he’d had three days ago, on the toilet, reading about all the hostilities that were starting to erupt in the region, was finally taking shape. Soon he’d be able to rest and watch the money pile up.
“Your three o’clock is here, sir,” the intercom said, and Wauwerman responded with a curt “send him in!” The man that burst into the office three seconds later looked a lot less exhausted than Wauwerman did, but also a lot less pleased.
“Here it is!” he said, slapping a videotape onto the Minister’s desk and taking off his baseball cap to wipe his forehead. He had a heavily French accent, which Wauwerman knew to be completely fake. “It is absolument shìt!”
“Now now, Mr. De Vries, I’m sure you did a splendid job.”
“Absolument shìt!” De Vries repeated. “De rien to work with!”
“Right. Let’s have a look, shall we?”
Wauwerman shoved the tape into the video player.
A blonde, five year old girl was licking an ice cream cone, smiling at the camera. Then her expression changed into a look of horror. She screamed. Her image faded into a blood red screen.
Bombastic orchestra music started, and a caption spun onto the screen. WAR in AO! A baritone voice-over spoke the words out loud, for those who couldn’t read.
Images of ships, clearly taken with a heavy zoom lens from long distance. Nedalian cruisers, Krytenian battleships, Starblaydi destroyers. The VERDANA THEATER, another caption/voice-over said.
More ships. An entire fleet, cruising towards its destination, a fighter plane taking off from an aircraft carrier. Then another caption: Erupting Soon, In a Channel Near You!
A slowmotion close up of an ice cream cone splattering onto the ground as the music climaxed ended the commercial.
“That’s it?” Wauwerman frowned.
“Like I said, absolument shìt! Not enough action, not enough explosions! Just boats boats boats.”
“The ships are fine,” Wauwerman said. “But what’s that crap with the ice cream? And where’s all the practical information? I put together a whole text…”
“Yes yes, whole text, takes deux minutes to read, to put in twenty second commercial. Impossible.”
“But that stuff is important! How are the tourists gonna show up if they don’t know about our cheap hotel rates, about our Quick-Deployment program that’ll take them to the scene of the action, about our observation posts all along our shores, about our hot-air-balloon trips and luxury yacht rentals? You need to put that in! Just cut out the little girl at the beginning and the ice cream cone at the end.”
“But that is the only part that is of value artistique! The symbolism est très…”
“Get rid of it, De Vries, and put the text in. And be quick about it, this commercial is scheduled to air on every major tv-channel in the region during prime time tonight.”
“Non!” De Vries said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at a point on the ceiling. “I am the director, and c’est moi who makes the final cut.”
“Yeah, and c’est moi who has your paycheck,” Wauwerman smiled, crossing his arms as well. “And c’est also moi who regularly shags the Minister of Culture’n’Stuff, who decides which director’s next film recieves government funding or not.”
De Vries blinked, then scowled. “Bon,” he finally said, turning to leave. “But I want not my name on this! Put me as ‘Alan Smithee’!”
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OOC: Alright, bit of a background.
The Honsfield attack was a prelude to something much larger which Star, Hyp and I worked out. While its lovely to know I have allies who are ready to jump to my rescue, and believe me, very much appreciated  , the truth is, we wanted to keep this conflict between us three. Sorry for any misunderstandings.
Posts are obviously most welcome in the thread, but we just want to keep the action between us three. Again, apologies!
This post has been edited by Nedalia on Oct 11 2006, 02:51 PM |
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Emperor in Training |
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OOC: That's actually a bit of a relief for me. Didn't want a war on like three fronts. What about medical assitance? Can I still send that? |
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Bridge of the PNS Indefatigable, Invinicible-class aircraft carrier,
"Nightwings reporting radar emissions, Sir,"
The Captain rolled his eyes. They were at the neck of a channel and from their position could see, with suitably powerful binoculars, Spruitland, Bettia and Hypocria; there were radar installations everywhere.
"And?" He asked.
"Mobile radar, Sir, at sea."
Now this really was something. His pair of F-23S aircraft were patrolling the channel in an oval-racetrack style pattern,scanning for radar emmissions. They had found something, most likely Nedalian. They'd be seething after the missile attack and hungry for Starblaydi blood. Probably steaming down the channel with their hair still on fire.
"Get another five aircraft up, now," the Captain narrowed his eyes, "they'll be looking in front for us, won't they?" He asked himself, but there was general agreement around him. "Who have we got up out there there?"
The lieutenant checked the roster. "Imager and Whacko"
"Get them to their lowest detection rate and see if they can circle around the Nedalians," the Captain thought out loud, "hit 'em from behind, then hit 'em in the face. Lucky everyone's loaded with air-to-sea missiles, too."
The Lieutenant looked a little sheepish, he'd argued for nothing-but air-to-air missiles on the Nightwings, but had made way for the Captain's opinion. The oppurtunity for his little barrier force to score on Nedalia's first thrust was to good to miss.
Cockpit of the F-23S piloted by Flight Lieutenant Diego 'Imager' Catabonna
"That's a roj, making course two-four-fiver, land in sight, going feet dry."
<What if that's a whole goddamn fleet,> came the call from Whacko, <an' not just a recon force?>
"Then we're screwed."
<Okay.> Not a moment's reluctance.
"Whatever they are, Whacko," Imager replied, "I'll take point and open up on 'em, you identify what's there and send it to the Indie. Then, if we're not dead, you can shoot at 'em too. How's that?"
<Okay.>
"Okay." Imager smiled. "Coming to course two-seven-zero, let's scoot around these turkeys."
Some minutes later...
<They gotta have us soon, man.>
"Ten more seconds, then pop-up." The two Nightwing craft were practically skimming the wavetops, so low that white foam was being thrown up behind them with the jetwash of their engines. An odd definition of naval aviation. "Now! Imager engaging, Whacko, tell us what ya see."
<One AC-Three Carrier, two - -explicitive removed- - two CS-One Cruisers and,> a short pause, <eight PC-one Frigates. Engaging now!>
Imager had already released his two air-to-sea missiles, and Whacko shortly did the same. The radio gave them chatter from the other five Nightwings who had taken to the air, and were now in combat with the F-4 Birds of Prey that the force had up. Both planes did corkscrews in the air, their threat receivers going crazy, though it seemed like the ships had a hard time getting a fix on their stealthy craft.
<I wanna strafe that deck!> Now was not the time for comedy over the net, when you were pulling eight-G turns to evade anti-air missiles. Whacko by name...
The air battle, as previously in this short war, was going well for the Nightwings. Starblaydia's top air superiority fighter was now proving it's worth, all Ψ150 million per plane.
Bridge of the PNS Indefatigable
"Get those last planes up in the air," the captain yelled, "I want four kept on the deck for alert-two."
The battle was going well enough, he reckoned, though sending young men out to die in expensive toys was never a thing to be glad for.
"Launch the SAR 'copter, I want downed pilots back alive. All of 'em." |
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"Incoming!!!"
It was too late. The first batch of Air-to-Sea missiles hit 3 PC-IIs at the front of the formation, creating chaos on the deck. The Anti-Air guns couldnt fire fast enough, before the the planes disappeared out of radar sight.
"What the -explicitive removed- do they have up there, invisible jets?" asked Colonel Jiwad, on deck the AC-III. "Send whatever bloody F-4s we have on this ship to intercept those damn things!"
As the F-4s stormed off the AC-III 'Verdun', the F-23S kept coming in and out of radar, but Jiwad had spotted his target; an aircraft carrier, identified as an Invicible-class, located east of the formation. Starblaydia. His eyes widened, completely seething. He was determined to push far enough to come into contact.
"Keep going forward! We're going to get that son of a bitch!"
Almost 14 F-4s were up in the air, but the F-23S were stealthy and of a standard that the Nedalian army had never faced. So far, they were evading the F-4s, but sooner or later, they had to be overwhelmed. Jiwad was counting on it.
"Push, god damn it, push!"
Under the protection of the F-4s, the formation continued its push forward, but it was becoming obvious that 2 PC-IIs were not going to be off any further use. They had been directly hit, and although they were in no danger of sinking, they were soon going to be a liability to have around.
"We need to achieve something up there, now!"
"Good news, Colonel!", came the response. "It seems we've downed one of their fighters!"
Good news indeed. The aircraft carrier the Starblaydis had was not going to outrun this fleet, part of the now disrupted Ibis Fleet, and if they could hold out on any further attacks, they were going to get to it.
"-explicitive removed-! Colonel, more F-23S appearing on radar! They've down 2 of our F-4s!"
Minor setback, Jiwad thought. It was bound to happen. Starblaydia was experienced in air combat; the Nedalian Air Force was young and lacking in that experience. They did have, however, new technology and gifted pilots. Something that would tip the favor.
"Colonel, two more F-4s have gone down!"
Not today, however.
"Send the last of the F-4s up! I want them up now!"
That would be 6 more F-4s, totalling 18, excluding the downed ones. An overwhelming number for what they were up against. Although they were dropping the F-4s out of the sky at a less than comfortable rate, they were taking care of the objective: the aircraft carrier was getting closer.
"Confirmed, we just hit another enemy fighter. Its gone down!"
Jiwad couldn't resist a smile. Perhaps it would be today. The channel between Bettia and Spruitland was witnessing a battle, a battle which the Nedalian Army were going to win, thought Jiwad.
They appeared on sonar too late for an effective reaction. The torpedos slammed into the PC-IIs with such force that soldiers were thrown off the vessel. Submarines, possibly the same ones that had hit Honsfield, possibly new ones. It didnt matter. A second wave of torpedos was enough for Jiwad to know he couldn't take anymore losses; he was caught off-guard and unaware, obsessed in his own desire to finish off the main target without worrying what was around it.
"Retreat, -explicitive removed-ing retreat!" he screamed, slamming his fist on the board infront of him. "Bring the planes back on deck, we're headed back to Honsfield."
He sighed heavily.
"And get in contact with command center. Tell them it was a Starblaydi attack."
Military Casualties: 22 killed, 69 injured.
Vessels/Planes Casualties: 4 PC-IIIs damaged (repairable), 4 F-4s destroyed.
This post has been edited by Starblaydia on Oct 11 2006, 05:11 PM |
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Nedalia |
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Emperor in Training |
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If a passer-by just happened to glance through the front window of the plush Hypocrium town house that wouldn't have placed much significance on the scene. A grey haired woman was serving dinner while her husband, sat at the table's head, turned the page on a document he was reading. A closer inspection may have revealed the look of concern etched onto the woman's face as a hacking cough racked her husband's body. Even then there seemed nothing out of the ordinary. The man was old so ill health was no surprise. And it was only natural for a wife to worry about the man she loves.
As it turns out this worry was well founded for the coughing did not ease. Instead, with a strangled gasp, the man toppled sideways clutching his chest, bringing tablecloth and cutlery down with him. His wife rushed to his side before running out of the room towards the nearest phone. Our aforementioned hypothetical passer-by you'd hope may feel some sympathy towards the events unfolding beyond the window. They may even have offered some form of assistance. But no one would surely appreciate the significance of the situation. For the gentleman in question just happened to be the reclusive Grand Marshal of the Autocracy, the supreme commander of all the nation's military forces. The man whose experience and tactical knowledge had been set to play a huge role in the coming conflict.
But fate had decreed otherwise. Perhaps leaving the nation's military prospects as stricken as their commander. |
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"As timing goes this is pretty damned inconvenient."
"I don't think he planned it."
"Someone has to replace him. And I think it should be me."
"The army isn't going to follow the orders of some jumped up crop duster."
"The army will do what it's told. I am the most senior after all. I was fighting for this country when you where still in school."
"I'm sorry? Did you say senior or senile?"
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
And so the conversation went on in the war room as the Autocracy's military hierarchy 'discussed' the events of the night before. With the Nedalia situation heightening with each passing day this meeting had been scheduled to discuss and plan some form of grand strategy. Now the agenda had changed. With the nation on the brink of conflict the Autocracy's military found itself leaderless. The Grand Marshal, figurehead of the nation's military, had been hospitalised and would remain so for quite some time. Which left the assembled Generals and other superior officers with a problem. A problem about which they were becoming most vocal, so vocal in fact that none of them noticed the Autokrator enter the room.
"Enough! You can't fight in here, this is the war room!"
Gradually hush descended.
"Much better. I'm guessing you are all aware of the Grand Marshal's unfortunate turn of health. And indeed it's most unfortunate timing. I'm sure you'd all agree that at this crucial time we require stability in our command structure. A repeat of the chaos that followed the death of my predecessor could spell disaster . . ."
As Vyntra spoke a number of the officers seemed to pale slightly as they saw where their leader was going. When he had created the position of Autokrator Titus had decreed that it's incumbent would also carry the title of honorary Grand Marshal of the Autocracy. A decree that no one disputed at the time as Titus had been a General before the coup and could quite easily have led the nation's military if the need ever arose. Vyntra on the other hand was a politician with no military experience to speak of. Surely he wouldn't? Oh, but he would.
". . . And so, as my title allows, I will be taking direct control over all military operations until this crisis is over. So gentlemen, let's talk strategy shall we?" |
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