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Tomaz Norwak was the never the public speaking type, he always let his accomplishments speak for themselves, but for now he had to bottle up his uncomfortableness. It was his press conference since the coup and since he was shot, and he had elected to speak for himself instead of letting a press secretary answer all the questions. He entered the conference room and was immediately hounded by flashes from cameras. The entirety of the capital media was there trying to stir up a frenzy that Norwak wanted no part of, but begrudgingly had to be. He got up on the stage an sat down next to newly appointed Chancellor Lyev Konstantine and Secretary General Hermann Wiesyck. As soon as he sat down the hands started flying. Norwak sighed and pointed to the first reporter he saw. The reporter stood up to ask his first question.
"Hi, Isak Roddock, I have a question for the President. When do you plan on reopening the Senate for sessions?" Norwak nodded at the question.
"Thank you for bringing that up, that was pretty much what this conference was about. Senate sessions will restart next month, which will be overseen by Chancellor Konstantine. Thank you for your question Mr. Roddock." Norwak picked the next reporter from the crowd.
"Hi, I'm Isla Menuchik, I have another question for the President. The title you hold currently is "Acting-President", so will there be Presidential elections and if so when?"
"To answer that question yes, there will be presidential elections. I am unsure about when we are having them. Sometime in the summer perhaps." Norwak answered, and he kept answering questions for the next few hours about trivial matters in his mind. By the time the conference was over, the Acting-President was exhausted. Almost the entire media circus had left by the time the last question was being answered. When the rest of the reporters exited, Norwak laid back in his chair and gave off a sigh of relief. Konstantine, who was sitting next to him, gave him a pat on the shoulder.
"Well, you did good for your first meeting with these maniacs." Konstantine congratulated. Norwak gave a faint smile and started to get up, but Konstantine stopped him from leaving.
"One more thing Tomaz." Konstantine said as Norwak looked back at him confused.
"I went ahead with it." Norwak nodded.
"Good"
"They should be there by now."
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RRN Pragmatic
"Sir, I think I see them." The helmsman shouted. Captain Simeon Bouchard walked up to the window, as he too could see land in the distance.
"Good, tell the crew to prepare for unloading the supplies. And organize search parties for sweep the islands for any survivors." Bouchard said. The helmsman saluted and made the announcement over the speaker. Bouchard exited the cockpit of the naval vessel and looked out to the open sea. He could barely see the milky white fog hovering towards Norway. The ship had been damaged while sailing through the Kiel Canal, but it was minimal damage. The President and Chancellor had been right, the Faroe Islands had been virtually untouched by the phosphorus. The ship finally docked, and as the men began unloading supplies, Captain Bouchard took a deep breath in and breathed in fresh island air for the first time in weeks.
Ixilia, Russia major, New Imperial Britannia, The Castelian Federation, and 1 otherEihlagonia
Slow burn
After several rounds of elections and referenda, it was fully-decided to invade "Eternal Spain." While this was happening, the Party talked of more purges. Ironically while trying to not be paranoid, they've became more paranoid. Maybe there should be curfews. Maybe more should be done to keep the Cheschenisian People safe. It was a border that, apparently, never moved or changed - and the Chairman herself was still bothered that Spain existed - and even worse, reactionary monarchists were in their government. All of the recently-constructed Cheschenisian Armys' equipment was made in Cheschenisia, and there were still factories full of workers trying to produce more guns, tanks, APCs, and the like. Firstly, making sure the region known-as the "Basque Country," was fully-taken. Although the BPU and even the Republic had muddled over and thought this invasion out, there were still worries. What about guerrilla warfare? What about all the other ways of fighting, did the Military adequately-prepare for those too? Well, you just can't prepare for everything. You've got to learn to take risks - and also to improvise.
They were resolute in wiping "Spain" off of the map, puppetting Extremadura, giving Extremadura "Portugal" and "Galicia," and maybe even giving them "Spanish Morocco" and the "Western Sahara." Maybe Cheschenisia would have to start backing left-wing forces in the southern parts of Morocco - there were rumors that the people there had wanted autonomy and representation - well if that was true, then the BPU will work steadfast in making sure all peoples were valid and represented in the country. If they'd really wanted it, that area could get autonomy - though both the Cheschenisian People and the people in the Sahrawi would have to vote on it.
The effort to start building an Army seemingly-took forever, but now the effort to fully take Iberia also seemed to take forever. But you have to start somewhere, right? So the Army will work-on liberating Catalonia and the Basque from the oppressive stranglehold of corporations and the Bougie.
Another thing is, if the BPU would be invading Africa - or "Spanish Africa" - but maybe the "States" in the future, Cheschenisia would have to crackdown on Islam - in all forms. Sufism, Shia, Sunni, Wahhabism - everything. But then, they would also have to do something about the Islamic Socialists. There would probably be no way of keeping Diversity in a socialist country when you're just purging every socialist that's not your "breed" of Socialism. Just aslong-as Cheschenisia remained not-capitalist, that would be fine. Cheschenisia would be no place for radical religious extremism, cultism, or theocracy. If there would be any true such thing as a "thoughtcrime," those would be it. The zealous and pious have no place in the BPU.
Ixilia, Russia major, New Imperial Britannia, The Castelian Federation, and 1 otherEihlagonia
Not-so-Eternal Spain
Nationalism was the enemy, "Spainism" was the enemy. After this, there would be no more "Spain" anymore - completely drowned in a red wave. The new idea was to also give the Basque peoples independence. They weren't "Spanish," but were forced to be a part of this "nationstate," infact there was no one such thing as "Spanish" as there's so many different markers and identities. But now, the Cheschenisians were on the attack - and the "Spanish" way-of-life would be no more. Infact, everything would be democratized, socialized and collectivized - and these peoples were just going to have to learn to live with it. The State would continue purging and discriminating against Christians of most denominations - besides Eithlagonian. This traditionalist, radical, reactionary, capitalist, monarchist hierarchy had to be no-more. It was past-time for Cheschenisia to liberate the "Spanish," and from themselves. These peoples had to be Saved. Saved from Capitalism, the market, the church, and several other things. Eventually, all peoples within the BPU would have to learn how to be One, how to find innerpeace and to transcend into the spiritual form.
There was no other way of living Life besides this way, besides the Democratic Socialist/Cheschenisian Way. The Bourgeoisle will put smoke-and-mirrors everywhere but you have to rise-up and smack the bosses. All the rich must be devoured, all the hedonistic must be no more, all of these ways will not lead to self-satisfaction and peace.
The Ghost of Socialism was no ghost, for it reincarnated into a hawk - the great Democratically-socialist hawk that would nurture and love all peoples, unlike these richmen in other countries that forced The Worker to slave for little-to-no pay.
If we were to just ignore that Spain is monarchist - just look at the border - some would cheer at Iberia being united, but why should those people unify the peninsula? Maybe it was good - but at the same time, so many peoples and identities all in one country forced to be "Spanish" instead of Catalan or whatever they were. But Cheschenisia holding all of the peninsula? It was a bit too much, so members of the Party had a thought of having Extremadura, and then giving Extremadura extra lands.
It seemed contradictory - there was no such thing as "Spain," and so the peoples within "Spain" should all be independent and autonomous - but then, the ideal of everyone living together in one grand DemSoc society without any differences. Though, there was unanimity that the "Western Sahara" should be independent from Morocco - after taking it. The Maghreb deserved better, but they would slowly become "Spanish," but Morocco would have to be liberated either way - though the decision of giving it to Extremadura was one unsure. Many in the Party had said that taking Morocco would definitely clean-up Northern Africa.
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Ixilia, Russia major, New Imperial Britannia, and 2 othersZentralreich, and The Castelian Federation
The Canadian Reconstruction Party promised peace, progress, and unity, that the war-torn nation of Canada would be rebuilt, and that they would never again allow the country to be a victim of senseless violence between great powers. There was no lie in that statement, but they really didn't explain how it would happen beyond 'through a re-devotion of the nation to free trade'. Little by little change came to Canada. It seemed promising at the start, the government moved to open the door to Ixilian goods, and soon the people of Canada could buy all they desired for a fraction of the pre-independence price, and building materials were cheap to get, the government lived up to its construction promises certainly, but with it came certain oddities. As part of the trade deal, the government offered on lease a portion of the Seattle harbor, which the Ixilians insisted was crucial to their ability to provide them with the materials needs in bulk to rebuild their nation. By a slim coalition majority, it passed. The Ixilians thus swiftly erected a strange black dome into which all their personnel came and went through, and from out of it came an endless series of resources. The government, on the advice of its new trade partner, drafted a slew of new laws which regulated construction style, opting to 'rebuild the nation along more economical lines' and so rebuilt per 'Ixilian Standard'. Massive tower complexes were built of imposing Blackstone and steel. These constructions held everything the inhabitants needed, entire city blocks already in ruin, were bulldozed with the assistance of an array of strange Ixilian machinery. Many of the rebuilding contracts similarly were sold to the Autocracy for rates that nobody in government believed could economically feasible, little lone profitable for anyone in the domestic sector. And yet, the Ixilians built their monstrosities, and built them swiftly. People complained of the lack of privacy, of feeling like cattle, but many more accepted it, grateful for a roof over their head and food on their table and for the tranquility of peace. Some even liked it, finding all their worldly need only an elevator trip away.
Many in the opposition found these policies abhorrent, but the ruling coalition was stable. Every now and again though, an odd event would occur. An opposition MP would cross the aisle, and declare they had been wrong, usually following a trip to one of the 'towers'. For many it seemed eerie, but with the rising GDP, and approval of government rising, many commentators chucked it up to being merely cynical plays to secure their seat. This seemed to be corroborated by those doing so usually being single, though every now and again this news seemed to also precede these MPs breaking off whatever relationship they had at the time. But if there was something to be drawn, most paid little mind, just like how the government quietly passed laws limiting access to police databases on missing persons, few noticed, and while there was murmur of autocratic moves on the part of the Canadian Reconstruction Party, the party had remained innocuous up to this point.
Now cities hardly resembled themselves, and the roads were largely empty aside from large freight vehicles. There was a depressing aura to them, especially in the rebuilt sections, but with an unemployment of less than 0.1%, nobody really cared. Life was boring in the towers, but it was safe, it was clean, and it was efficient. The government had been also running a buyback program for vehicles, promising that soon would come a national public rail system, and that private transportation would be a thing of the past. Many went along with the party, and indeed, the rail lines came, though passenger rail seemed rare, and instead came with it an aggressive expansion of the railways, going straight through cities and replacing the freight trucks with automated freight trains, with all rail lines leading back to that black dome in Seattle.
It seemed like yesterday the CRP had a slim majority, now it dominated Parliament with a super-majority. Silently, the hammer came down, and one day Canada had journalists, the next day it did not. Canadian Institutions silently came under a great veil, and those who still possessed a will to resist disappeared under that dark veil. The parliament concluded the end of its very productive session, and in its closed, replaced itself with a small advisory council made of Canada's foremost business magnates, all of whom were deeply entrenched into the Ixilian business network. Once the cities were conquered, the rural communities came next. Towns were scooped up, and put into rural versions of the Towers, buildings mean to house those working the farms, land was allotted, quotas assigned, and trackers embedded. With every tower, a town disappeared, and as the world carried on, Canada simply came to be a memory. The Canada flag disappeared from public areas, and it its place often came shrines to the Autocrat (all generously donated by the Imperial Cult of Ixilia). Some tried to resist and fled to woods, but aside from those who left when they saw the first Towers being constructed, few understood what happened and Canada, and even those within new little.
There is resistance, but most realized their fall into slavery far too late, only when their wages were suddenly replaced with 'Tower Scrip'. Revolt was contemplated, but CRP's Advisory Council enacted a new policy, recruiting from Canada's jails the most psychotic killers they had and turning them into the new security force, a force that eagerly made examples of those that complained. Canada existed as a nation, but while they did not take their orders straight from Imperial Avalon, it became clear to its rulers, that so long as the trade flowed and the Ixilians received their 'due compensation' for all the earlier help, it didn't matter what happened in Canada, just so long as order was maintained.
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Russia major, New Imperial Britannia, Zentralreich, and 2 othersThe Castelian Federation, and Eihlagonia
Moie Village, the Flats
Hector stood in silence beneath the tree. One of the few that grew on his property, it looked worse for wear than years past. Its bark was thin and flaky; the tree needed more moisture. He lowered himself to his knees. The pair of flowers he held shook gently in his trembling hand. He laid one at the larger stone, and the other at the smaller stone. He offered a silent prayer, before feeling his dog nuzzling his leg. Hector placed his forehead on the dog’s, before standing once more, returning to the flock.
Though the tree was struggling, the grasses were thankfully as well-grown as always. The sheep grazed quietly in the dry morning air. The sun was low in the sky, the wind thankfully hadn’t grown strong yet. Even still, Hector wore the cloth over his mouth out of habit. The flock slowly traversed Hector’s lands. They wandered to the fence at the very edge, before passing back by the creek. Hector joined his flock in the water; he removed the shirt, coat, and mask, before wading to about a foot deep. The stones beneath his feet were smooth, but frigidly cold, appropriate for such glacial melt. He cupped the water in his hand, drinking from the creek. He then began to wash his hair, his body. Once the flock had finished, they began the walk back to the barn.
As Hector closed the latch on the barn door, he heard the sound of an engine, and looked to his left. A plume of dirt was slowly approaching. He quickly ran into his home, a single room shack made of wood and brick and metal. He pulled the rifle from beneath the bed, training it on the vehicle approaching. He looked through the scope, and smiled. He set the rifle back down, before stepping back outside. He watched as the truck skidded to a halt in front of him. In the passenger seat was Castio. Derro was sitting in the bed, and stepping out of the driver seat was his good friend Nico Gazal.
“Hello Nico!” he exclaimed. “I thought beers weren’t till sundown?”
“They’re not,” replied Nico. “We’ve got a bit of a situation. Mrs. Lamarac asked for some help, so I rounded up the rest of the boys. You in?”
Hector nodded, and ran back inside. No words necessary. He returned with a small backpack and the rifle, and jumped into the bed of the truck. Nico whipped the truck around before racing back towards the rest of the village.
===
Instead of making the left turn towards the Lamarac house, Nico swung the truck right. Hector turned towards Derro, confused.
“Don’t worry,” replied Derro. “She stopped us on the way back from the market, just up the road.”
The truck slid to a halt on the side of the road, next to a small irrigation ditch. Sitting on a small box with a woven sack was a distraught Mrs. Lamarac, and maybe twenty meters into the field was a small tractor with a lone rider. Hector jumped out of the bed and rushed over to her. She stood and hugged him, giving a kiss to each cheek.
“Kathes, kathes, pueris. Com lo se?”
“Bon, bunos,” replied Hector. “Ce tisiro, Mama Lamarac?”
Mrs. Lamarac pointed towards the tractor. Hector nodded, and the men began to approach it, drawing their weapons. The rider began to dismount, their faded poncho blowing in the wind. Hector stopped dead in his tracks. The rider continued down the side of the tractor, before taking three awkward steps towards the men. The rider’s left hand curled up towards its head, removing the hat with a slow and even motion.
Hector couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Its arms were like a skeleton, devoid of any kind of skin. Sinewy black cables were pulled taut across each limb. The head shines with a dull gray, covered in many a scratch and dent. Two photoreceptors sat embedded in the face, above a flat plate where a nose might be, and a non articulating mouth. It began to speak, its accent a mix of Eihla and machine, it's speakers clogged with dust. A faint shuddering motion and chugging sound echoed from its chest.
“Salutations, sirs and madam. How may I assist you?”
Hector turned to look at Nico, “what is that thing?”
The robot spoke once more, seemingly unaware that it was interrupting. “I am a farmer. I was assigned this land and-”
Nico pressed a revolver to the robot’s head. “I don’t know what spawned you, but you do not belong on this earth.”
The robot’s head jerked towards Nico. “Do not be alarmed My body may be different, but I assure you I am every bit a loyal Eihla as you.”
Mrs. Lamarac stepped to her feet, striding towards the robot in a flurry of anger and pain. “Vusemaathi, Vu mesemaathi. Nuabod ke abid, vu-”
She was cut off as Nico pulled the trigger. The robot shuddered, before collapsing to the ground in a screech of pain. Its arms swung wildly out in front of it as it tried stumbling to its feet. Nico and Hector stood back, stunned that the thing was even moving with a gaping hole in its head. The speakers began to wail an awful tone that swung up and down rapidly. The boys all began to open fire, placing near a dozen shots into the creature before fire began to shoot violently through the poncho. The thing’s joints all locked, and it immediately tipped backwards, falling once more.
For a minute, there was silence, as the five of them watched it burn. Then, one by one, they began to grab, kick, pull, and shoot. They cut pieces of its body away, bending what metal didn’t burn their hands. They tore its limbs, ripped its chest and head open, gutted it whole. They then watched what remained continue to burn. A mess of mechanics, lithium, razor sharp scraps, and sinew.
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Ixilia, Russia major, New Imperial Britannia, and 2 othersZentralreich, and The Castelian Federation
Nikolai huffed as he turned over another document, he'd commandeered a table in the rating's mess, which was now strewn with various reports, requisitions, orders and memoranda, to do his paperwork. Since he'd discretely asked Damien to keep an eye on the crew's morale while he'd been in his office, the news had continued to deteriorate. Eventually he decided that his presence in the crew's sight could, hopefully, not hurt the situation.
The mess foreman had graciously kept him supplied with tea as needed, and he stopped by to fill his glass again on another round of the mess, filling the men's cups. Nikolai gave him an appreciative nod. The glass was thick-walled, cradled in a sheet steel holder out of which the tea stains had never been fully scrubbed. It was comforting, it felt used and durable, unlike the mirror-surface, almost untouched crockery that greeted him in his dining room every evening. It was a shame he couldn't be there very often.
As he scanned down another munitions requisition his SCD1 buzzed in the breast pocket of his tunic, still reading, he reached a hand into the pocket and answered the communication,
"Pavlenko here."
"Tovarisch kapitan, this is Shikov speaking, will you come to the Guardroom when you have a moment?"
"What is it tovarisch?" Nikolai replied, still pouring over the document.
"Tovarisch Starikov passed on the mission you have for me, we've devised plans for the operation, and drawn up the requisitions for fuel, equipment, munitions, and vehicles. We'd like to go over the plans with you now if you have time."
Nikolai began to pile up his papers, sweeping them into his briefcase which locked with a biometric scan.
"Of course, I'm on my way, Pavlenko out."
He started towards the door, stopping to thank the junior sergeant who'd given him permission to enter the mess when he had arrived. Though it was strictly speaking a formality, in Nikolai's mind it wasn't an issue of 'class' to have a separate mess for junior ratings, they deserved privacy and the opportunity to not be under constant scrutiny, as such he respected their right to bar him or anyone else as the case may be.
He thumbed through the contacts on his scud as he made his way back to his office. As he walked he called the comms officer,
"Tovarisch, Kapitan here, please attend the Guardroom immediately, I'd like your input on something."
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When the communications officer, lieutenant Emiliya Zaytsev, joined them, Nikolai had already started leafing through the documents,
"Tovarisch, thank you for joining us." Demian smiled at the young officer as she walked in. Emiliya was one of the few graduates of the M. V. Frunze Naval College who left at the rank of lieutenant, rather than junior lieutenant as was usual. As the executive officer, he oversaw her professional development and had been impressed since she embarked with her handling of the challenges of department leadership.
Nikolai and Semyon also nodded their greetings as she took her seat at the table. Semyon then looked to Nikolai for approval, and at his nod stood and moved to a blank digital screen at one end of the room.
"Tovarischi, this is the plan devised by myself and tovarisch Starikov for the mission into Droiden. At the Captain's discretion we are heading for the Jutland peninsula. There are several reasons to select the peninsula as a site for an infantry operation, it is predominantly flat with only a low central ridge, there are fewer population centres and sites of military importance, and thus fewer potential targets for weapons of mass destruction, the area will be safer. Finally, and most importantly, the peninsula is a necessary strategic site to control access between the north and baltic seas, we need to assess the state of whatever authority, civilian or military, remains."
He clicked onto the first slide, a map of the Jutland peninsula with settlements marked in bold.
"There is a village called Blokhus," he indicated a settlement on the north-western coast of the peninsula. "It is small, only a few-hundred inhabitants, not intensive in terms of food, water, or utilities, and with a predominantly agricultural economy. It is also the location of the municipal government, which is itself predominantly agrarian. If there is anywhere in Jutland where a government is still operating, this is it."
He moved to the next slide.
"From Blokhus, it is about a 30 mile march to Aalborg, a large urban municipal area with a population in excess of 300,000. Here I intend to gather information about the origin and power of the detonations detected over Droiden, the maximum current and anticipated chemical and radiological threats in the environment, and an estimate of the remaining population within the nation, and what assistance can be rendered to establish order and begin reconstruction."
He clicked to the next slide, displaying a table of material requisitions that would need to be made.
"I intend to mobilise the whole ship's company of naval infantry for this mission, we'll need two full sets of APS-NBC2 per soldier, plus enough for the ship's company to load, deploy, retrieve, and unload the RIBs. I also want to take two NBC specialists from the Information Systems Division and the Engineering Division to help with any equipment or computer malfunctions we encounter. We'll need small arms, body armour, and other munitions per standard equipment tables, plus NBC detectors, preventative drugs, and tarps for sleeping. We could cram all of that onto 3 RIBs, but I'd rather take 4, we could then send one ahead with a scouting team and 2 MULEs3 to make the initial landing before the others arrive."
He clicked to another slide, this one showing the beach of Blokhus, the village, and the civil government buildings,
"The rest of the RIBs will land, and we'll begin the trek to Blokhus, scout for signs of civilian life, and attempt to establish contact with civilians or civil government. Where possible, we'll note the location of any civilian population for later delivery of food, water, and medical supplies. I anticipate that it will take around 6 hours to conduct the survey. Then we'll take the road path to Aalborg."
He clicked onto the final slide with the city of Aalborg displayed alongside Blokhus,
"As I said, the march to Aalborg is about 30 miles of road. If we start towards the city not long after midday, we could be there by nightfall. We'll hole up a few miles outside of the city in a sturdy structure. wait until dawn, then reconnoitre. We'll return the next day and extract via the RIBs."
"If we encounter too much heat, our best option is to hold our ground until you can get a few Ka-38s out to us. Low-level fly-overs have indicated no effect from whatever's over there on our systems, so you should have a clear shot. We'll carry comms relays on the RIBs and in packs, we'll also need hardening for communications technology from the Communications Department."
He switched off the monitor, turning to the other officers for their views.
Abbreviations:
1. SCD: The Shipboard Communications Device, a purpose-built device for secure shipboard communications, affectionately called the scud by Russian Sailors.
2. APS-NBC: The All-Arms Protective System - Nuclear, Biological, and Chemical, a non-permeable protective suit and mask jointly developed by Russian forces to be used to protect from Nuclear, Biological, and Chemical hazards.
3. MULE: The Motorised Unmanned Luggage Equipment, a six-wheeled electrically powered all-terrain vehicle which is autonomous and proximity guided, programmed to follow a designated soldier or team to provide long-range high-endurance carrying capacity.
Royal Palace, Berlin, German Empire
Kaiser Wilhelm IV found himself in his study approached by First Minister Aldric Vogt and General Field Marshal Gunther von Haas, grave concern donning their faces. The clock read 10:35 P.M, well past typical hours for them to discuss matters of government or military. Indeed, on a normal night, the Kaiser would typically have retired to bed for the night in order to rise early as he tended to do. However, tonight was different, as today there was a dire situation that required the immediate attention of the Berlin government.
As if the Holstein crisis and resulting damage had not been enough to bear for a while, as well as the news of an entire nation’s demise just a border away, now there was a clearly emerging problem that could well endanger the Kaiserreich in the immediate future. On the other side of the Waffle Empire, the liberal republic of Cheschenisia, already detested by the Empire for its degenerate Buddhist faith in what ought to have been the beating heart of Christian Europe, had just undergone a massive political upheaval. Where previously an isolated state content to live out its days inconsequential to those around it had stood, there was now a revolutionary and openly belligerent communist government.
“Kaiser, it’s clear that we need to crush this state as soon as possible. They’ve already begun an open genocide of Catholics within their borders, for Christ sake! We need to get the go-ahead from the Flemish and storm through the Cheschen state before they start having the audacity to take their outrageous actions abroad. Better yet, let’s call on the Tripartite Pact and get the Brits and Italians involved! The Cheschens won’t know what hit ‘em,” the First Minister declared, making it quite clear how he felt about the developments to the west.
“Kaiser, while Aldric is right that the Cheschens must be dealt with, I’m not so certain that we ought to dive headfirst into a direct war with them. We can’t forget about our other rivals on the continent, and while the Droidenian tragedy has, well, removed one, the Cheschens are still not the only threat. If we jump to war with them now, who’s to say other actors won’t take advantage of the situation? I think a much better idea would be to negotiate defensive pacts with those nations that border Cheschenisia that aren’t already our allies. In particular, the Flemish and Spanish make clear targets for Cheschen aggression for their Christian faiths now that they’ve gone on such a bend, so alliances with them are pretty much guaranteed to pay off for us. Naturally, though, I’ll support whichever route you decide to take,” Gunther glared somewhat at the First Minister for his attempt to pressure the Kaiser, with Aldric quickly firing one of his own back. The Kaiser rose from his study’s desk and began to speak.
“It’s clear that we have to clamp down on Cheschen ambitions before it’s too late to act anymore, you’re both correct on that. However, Vogt, I don’t appreciate that your recklessness has once again cropped up. Don’t you remember that you almost threw us into a war with Petrograd during your invasion of Romania?”
“My Kaiser, we all know that that was just Russian posturing, an empty thre-“
“I don’t much care what you think the Russians’ plans were. The point is, your warmongering has already almost turned against us once. We’ll be going with Gunther’s plan for the most part. Have Foreign Minister Vagner initiate negotiations with the Flemish and Spanish regarding their entry into the Tripartite Pact. See to it that the British and Italians are on board as well.”
“I- yes, Kaiser, I will inform Vagner as soon as possible of this development. The British will hear of this by morning.”
“Good. In the meantime, Gunther, begin preparations for an invasion of Wafflia. Their Eastern lands are vastly German, and it’s important that we get to them before the Cheschens can do the same. The Cheschen military is still fresh and developing, and if we surround them harshly enough, they will crumble under the collective might of the Tripartite Pact. Plus, if the Flemish and Spanish wind up rejecting our necessary help, the conquest of Wafflia will assist us to take care of them regardless.”
“Of course, my Kaiser. I’ll inform the rest of the High Command come morning. The Wafflites will stand no chance in the face of our military.”
“Indeed. Now, is that all, you two?”
“Yes, Kaiser. I’ll inform you soon what we hear back regarding the expansions of the Pact.” Vogt bows lightly and turns to exit the study, visibly waiting for von Haas before he properly leaves.
“Goodnight, Kaiser. Make sure you get some rest soon. We’ve got a long few days coming up ahead of us now.”
“Goodnight, both of you, I’ll be just out.”
Gunther bows to the Kaiser and turns to exit with the First Minister. The clock on the wall reads 11:43 in the morning. Not the longest meeting, of course, but certainly one that ran late. The Kaiser held back a yawn and tucked away some clutter on his desk from the day’s work. Rising again from his desk, he grabbed his briefcase and shut off the light of his study, slipping out the door. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Ixilia, Russia major, New Imperial Britannia, and 2 othersThe Castelian Federation, and Eihlagonia
Althior. Once a great city, held in the highest regard by Lieutenant-Captain Nathan Spurling, as a prime vacation spot. The international situation had foiled many of his plans to travel there during leave, and now, seeing the ruins of the city--from a distance, captured by satellite--those plans seemed to be gone permanently.
The extreme measures taken were instituted a few hours ago, when Mr. Gauthier's intern came down to the Commander's office and told him of some new readings. Primarily, a greatly increased level of beta radiation emanating from the city of their destination, combined with vastly higher readings of phosphorus-32. The good news was that the ship's hull was enough to stop the beta radiation, which was why they were now all below deck, around the center of the ship. The impact to communication at this distance was minimal, but once they landed, who knew what the radiation would do to their gear?
Nathan wanted the ship to return to London for shielded equipment, but the Commander disagreed. In their conversation, the Commander had brought up the time this trip back would have taken, and that had shut down the debate entirely. Time was of the essence, they both knew, the Rapier had to land in Althior before someone else did, or the situation in Droiden got worse than it already was.
So it was here, a hundred miles off the coast of Althior, that Commander Sokan once again summoned the crew of the Rapier to the conference room.
"Officers, Mr. Gauthier, welcome. This will likely be our final briefing before we land, and certainly it will be our most important. Mr. Gauthier, if you will show us your readings?" Albert nodded at the CHCB director, who turned to his laptop.
"This is our most accurate reading of the environment around Althior, with what equipment we have. Atmosphere is heavily contaminated with phosphorus, which we already knew--but this is a radioactive isotope, much more dangerous and far harder to protect against." At his cue, a series of graphs and charts filled the screen behind him, and Albert stood up to speak. "Althior is, as far as we know, utterly inhospitable. It stands to reason that the capital of Droiden would have been the primary target of the weapons of mass destruction used in the attack, and the resulting radiation and phosphorus levels are going to have catastrophic effects on personnel health, something which Mr. Gauthier tells me even our hazmat suits cannot completely protect against. We are too far from Britannia to go back for better gear now, and we are too close to Droiden to turn back. In the interest of safety, Lieutenant-Captain Spurling and Mr. Gauthier had both independently discussed this with me, and together we have come to a conclusion. We are not immediately landing in Althior, rather, we will land in the town of Holmestrand."
Albert's laser pointer highlighted a spot on the Droidenean coastline. "Holmestrand is an administrative center for its municipality. Also a good landing spot for the Rapier, a total of twenty-four thousand inhabitants, which if the initial broadcast from Droiden is to be believed, most of whom are likely dead. We are here, however, to assess if anything resembling local government still exists and operates. If it does, we establish contact, gather what information we can about the state of the rest of Droiden, and find out if getting closer to Althior is at all safe. If it does not, we move to our next city nearly twenty miles away."
The map's focus changed to a marking further inwards. "The city of Drammen, close to Althior but with a fraction of the population. We expect that this city is still heavily contaminated, but it will be a good place to find whatever information about the attacks we still do not know. From here, we make our decision. Go to Droiden, or return home--this is up to the officers' personal discretion once we have made contact. From what we can tell, at least Holmestrand should be safe enough to step foot in, but be cautious. We still don't fully know what is the situation inside Droiden, we're still a whole sixty miles away from Holmestrand after all."
A click of the laser pointer, and the map changed. It was a closer view of the strait between Jutland and Norway. "We have with us a group of technicians from the CHCB, they will be responsible for the technical details of our incursion into Droiden, and the operation of the equipment. We have a company's worth of naval infantry on the ship, and enough supplies to last all of them plus the technicians. Initially we'll send a small scouting party to take some initial measurements, our helicopter will be waiting on the beach in case conditions are much harsher than we expect. Once they've established that it's safe, the remainder of the company and technicians will land in the city, taking with them any munitions, equipment, firearms, that they may need. We have enough suits on board for everyone to take at least two, and the forward team will take with them a motorized transporter for supplies. We should only need two between the scouts and the rest of the infantry, primarily to hold munitions, detectors, and communication equipment."
The image changed again, to a local view of the city of Holmestrand, mapped out by satellite. "The initial landing should take at most three hours, one for the scouts to report the shore conditions and two to unload the naval infantry from the ship. We will have our onboard helicopter scout out the area, and the Rapier will maintain as much functionality as possible, we will keep up communications with London throughout this operation. We do not have access to specially shielded equipment, but the ship is already shielded by design, and First Lieutenant Marlin assures me that some of our critical communication equipment comes pre-hardened. We aren't exactly built for nuclear war, but it should be enough to get started. Once the scouting is done, we'll advance to Holmestrand, complete our operations there--which should take upwards of seven hours--then move towards Drammen if conditions allow. The march to Drammen is expected to take four hours, and from Drammen to Althior is another six. If, and let's hope that this is the case, all goes well, we should be in Althior within twenty hours. Any questions?"
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Russia major, Zentralreich, The Castelian Federation, and 1 otherEihlagonia
Stirring
---
SVG Imperial Archives
The gears of the Castelian war machine, once dormant after their advance westward, were beginning to move once more. With the Directory’s near unanimous declaration that Kynor must be driven back, the clandestine effort undertaken by the Department of War to further militarize was accelerated. Tens of thousands were being mobilized monthly, more and more equipment was being churned out from recently retrofitted factories, all in anticipation for the coming conflict. Castelian companies were not exempt from this either, with automotive companies beginning to transition their manufacturing centers from the creation of cars, to tanks. Likewise, other industries were brought under state oversight, and were slowly being converted to meet the needs of the war economy, from entertainment to transportation. However, while the people of Castel did pride themselves in the Empire’s martial strength, the shift to a total war economy was not met by no opposition. Whatever clandestine nature the project had initially quickly evaporated as factory workers began to realize exactly what they were now building. While Castelians weren’t foolish enough to take their protests to the streets, discontent did begin to simmer just beneath the surface. However, even movements like those were quickly suppressed through a reformed state defense apparatus. The Castelian government, which for the majority of its history was a bloated mess of competing departments, was, at least for the most part, centralized following the subsequent purges after Quintus’ coronation. Indeed, even the military was cut to size, with its overall influence in the government being significantly curtailed, and finally being forced to end the near constant bickering between the armed forces that plagued the Department of War’s operational capacity for most of its existence.
But that was just the beginning.
---
“While certainly an impressive design, I fail to see the practical application for such a machine. We already have the manpower necessarily to field a sizable army. While doing so may have some benefits, attempting to fill the ranks with automatons and other mechanized walkers seems more like a vanity project for the Department of Science.”
“My Emperor, while I understand your point, we live in an age where machines are rapidly taking the place of our fellow man. As no matter how well disciplined an army may be, machines will always be more so. If we wish to continue to ensure our armed forces remain some of the most advanced in the world, we must be willing to adapt. I see this less as a vanity project, and more as a way to further strengthen Castel’s position militarily. While we may have the manpower to raise a sizable army, we cannot afford to waste more manpower than necessary on wars. As such, utilizing our vast resources to create a mechanized force seems like the most logical decision to make.”
The Emperor paused. “I agree the Empire must be willing to adapt to modern technology... How far has the Department gotten in the design of a prototype?”
“We’ve drafted a design for a large, mechanized walker to support the army. Seeing as the process to implement such a drastic change would take years, we decided to focus our efforts on something that could supplement the current armed forces, not replace them. The walker itself is more or less designed to act as a largely autonomous armored fighting vehicle.
“Have you begun actual construction of the drafted design?”
“We have.”
“I would like to see this design for myself.”
“Certainly, my Emperor.”
---
“Are our forces in position?”
“Almost, though we assumed we would have more time. The Department hadn’t expected the Cheschen government to collapse so suddenly, so local commanders were forced to scramble whatever they had on hand to ensure we could begin operations before the rest of the continent could redirect their attention elsewhere. Currently, we’ve already got around 64,000 mobilized from the 7th Legion, with the naval task force assigned to the operation waiting to depart.”
“Excellent. I’ll inform the Directory of these developments, though I have a feeling the Emperor already knows.” Servius sighed. “Either way, the ultimatum should begin being drafted by the week's end.”
He heard a buzzing sound from his phone, and took it out of his pocket. The Director of War smiled. And not a moment too soon. He looked back up at the officer. “The Chancellor has declared that an emergency session will be held within a few hours. Apologies for the sudden departure, but I must see myself out.”
“Of course sir. No offense taken.”
For the Empire!
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Ixilia, Russia major, New Imperial Britannia, and 2 othersZentralreich, and Eihlagonia
---
Imperial Citadel, Castelian Federation
it would be early in the day as the Empress Eternal flew into Castel, her plane touching down quickly. The plane bearing her personal mark, as the door was opened and the stairs dropped down
kaiserlaichen wachter leaving first as they assembled on both sides of the steps. As she began to descend the steps after several moments, her foreign minister following along behind
The Captain of the Imperial Guard watched as all of the Caedisians filed out of the aircraft. After seeing the Empress Eternal of Caedisia exit the plane, the Captain began to make his way over to greet her, the other eight Imperial Guardsmen following close behind. After reaching the Empress, the Castelian stood at attention, and addressed the 7th Child, “Empress Eternal, it is a pleasure to have you here back at Castel.” He glanced over at the members of the Kaiserlaichen Wachten who stood next to the Empress Eternal and her Minister of Foreign Affairs. “Though, I’m afraid I cannot allow your guards past this point. They can, however, stay at the innermost ring for the duration of your meeting with the Emperor.”
"I am glad to be back captain"
Gesturing for her guards to stay put before turning to the foreign affairs minister.
"Go grab us something for the ride back Maybell, ill call you once the Emperor and I are done"
The foreign affairs minister would bow her head and take a step back. As the 7th child stepped forward, ready to depart.
"That is fine, now shall we go see your Emperor"
“Of course.” The Captain steps out of the way, and gestures to the two SUVs behind him. “After you, Empress Eternal.”
She would nod and walk towards the SUVs getting into one of them. As she prepared herself for the meeting
---
Quintus watched from the top of the stairs as the SUVs pulled up to the entrance of the Imperial Citadel. Seeing both the Imperial Guardsmen and the Empress Eternal exit the building, the Castelian Emperor smiled, and began to make his way towards the 7th Child. As he made his way down the stairs, he called out to the Empress Eternal, “Sister! It’s been too long! How have you been?”
She would exit the vehicle and approach the stairs. Smiling softly under her mask as she looked up at Quintus
"Hello again brother, I have been well. My Father sends his greetings as well. How has it been being Emperor?"
She would approach and offer Quintus a hug. As she was quite happy to see him
Quintus embraced the Empress Eternal. “I’d say I’ve been doing quite well, save for a few minor hiccups here and there. But things like that are to be expected. And yourself?”
"Well that is good to hear at least, hiccups can be dealt with"
Exiting the embrace after a few moments she would sigh softly
"Oh its been fine, though its starting to wear on me a bit. The constant bickering, policy meetings, parades. Though nice, they get boring"
The Castelian looked off into the distance, wistfully. “Such is life in politics, I’m afraid.” He looked back at the Empress, a smile returning to his face. “But let us not dwell on that. After all, I assume you didn’t come all this way just to tell me about life back at Caedisia.”
She would nod softly in response, as she did indeed have another intent for visiting.
"You would be correct in assuming that. I had come to see if Castel would support us in our coming war against Japan"
Quintus nodded. “Of course.” He turned, and began to walk over to the entrance of the Imperial Citadel. Once reaching the twin doors, the two Imperial Guardsmen flanking each side of the entrance stood at attention, and opened the doors. Turning back around, the Emperor looked directly at the 7th Child, and gestured for her to follow him.
She would follow along, her eyes looking directly at him for but a moment.
"It has been some time since ive been in this place"
“Indeed, it has been a rather long time since you last were here.” After walking through the complex for a few minutes, Quintus stopped in front of a door, and opened it. “Here we are.” Glancing back at the Empress Eternal, Quintus stepped out of the way, and motioned for 7th Child to enter. “After you.”
She would nod and enter the room, as she found somewhere to sit.
"Thank you, now shall we move onto business?"
The Emperor reclined back into his chair. “Certainly. What is it you wish to discuss regarding further Castelian assistance in your invasion of the Empire of Japan?”
"My government, and myself seek to ask for at least one corp of further troops to assit in the conflict. As the grand marshal.....and myself both realize we do lack the numbers ourselves to fulfill such an invasion of the main japanese home island. While we can handle the smaller islands the main island will be...tricky at best, and we expect high casualty rates"
“Hm... You expect high casualty rates?” Quintus smiled. “While I will allow the deployment of an additional corps to assist in your invasion of Japan, I cannot in good faith—especially if what you say is true—simply send in more bodies to what will be a meat grinder. With that in mind, I request that you also permit the deployment of more Castelian materiel to Caedisia to assist in the invasion, as a way to better ensure the safety of the Castelians who will participate in the assault on the main island.”
"Of course, whatever equipment Castel wishes to send will be allowed. As to the meat grinder, unfortunately in that regard, I have to be honest for both our sakes. The terrain and the mere certainty that multiple landings will need to take place assures that it will be a slog."
She would sit back in her seat with a sigh
"But we appreciate the extra arms and men, ill make sure our government decorates your men as well as any of ours"
“That would be greatly appreciated.” The Castelian paused. “Did you have anything else you wished to discuss with me?”
"Outside of just a normal visit with family, not much else no"
“I see. Well then, I wouldn’t want to take up any more of your time than necessary, given the current situation in the Pacific. More than ever, Caedisia needs your leadership.” Quintus stood up, and put his hand on the Empress’ shoulder. “Though just remember sister, as long as I am Emperor, you will always be welcome here in Castel.”
For the Empire!
Thanks to The united peoples of caedis for writing this with me!
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Ixilia, Russia major, New Imperial Britannia, and 1 otherEihlagonia
Several weeks earlier
Imperial Avalon, Ixilia
The Alpian Revolution had unnerved the Autocrat. The ISD had suspected a worker's plot was underway, but for the Alpian government to fold so easily was a shock to the analysis department. But this upheaval was causing moves in Europe. The Alpian government was to be the soft underbelly of Europe, a weak government that had steadily slipped into irrelevance and decline since the fall of the golden throne, just like the other pillars. Now with the British and Zentralians plotting intervention at the highest levels of their respective governments, and British already mobilizing, it was critical Ixilia act now to secure its European spearhead for the Grand Plan. The Autocrat summoned Numida, who he ordered to immediately begin planning an invasion of Alpes before the communists could stabilize their regime. Numida knew what the Autocrat was expecting, flawless victory, anything less was to invite death. As he left Blackstone Palace though, he noticed that the usually bustling palace was eerily empty, and the number of Blades seemed not even a tenth of the usual level. The Grand Marshall had been busy place them for the grand invasions, but he found it hard to believe that the Autocrat was even willing to sacrifice his personal honor guard for the cause. He didn't like the numbers, the Autocracy might have the jump at the start of the war, but even if the new toys the Teknaki were designing and the fresh horrors being birthed by the Officaeli, but it could not sustain a protracted conflict. Still, the matter of Alpes looked more promising, and so Grand Marshall got to work.
Current Day
Bordeaux, People's Union of Alpes
It had been a chaotic day in Bordeaux, the police had only just formally surrendered to the government and had agreed to turned in their badges while the party assessed their loyalty to the state. Firing squads could be heard throughout the city, and there was a general state of disorder in the city as looting became widespread (though the party nominally classified it all as forceful redistribution). The average citizen of Bordeaux was a scared creature, and many silently prayed for the bloodletting to stop. Their prayers were not granted.
Once the sun dipped into the Atlantic, the violence intensified. An small fleet of 20 submarines surfaced a mild distance from the city's harbor. Within a minute, their flat tops changed, and were replaced with large ship canons. All at once the city was rocked by the roar of artillery fire. After several barrages, more vessels surfaced, this time even closer to the harbor. As they approached, the thunder of artillery fire continued. The communists attempted to arrange a response, but their positions were bombarded each time, it was almost as if their foes knew their every move. Soon the second wave of submarines reached the port. A small force of communists and conscripted locals had assembled at the port and even began to prepare makeshift fortifications. The submarines opened up, and revealed columns of black clad men, each submarine having a large, armored creature at the front. The locals responded to this small arms fire, but their rounds only seemed to clink against the armored monsters. The Ixilians returned fire with salvos of their own, while the armored Blades lead the charge. The fighting was over swiftly and soon enough the port was declared secured.
The communists in Bourdeaux were not alone though, as the regional commander discovered when he started demanding Bordeaux be reinforced. Apparently, several other port towns were facing a similar incursion within his own region, and to make matters worse, a ground force was making its way north, having entered into the country through Spain. They were losing ground fast. As the party officer began to reach out to the other regional commissioners, a worsening picture unfolded as allegedly the Brits and Italians had begun to make their move too, and Marselle was also under attack. And worst of all, Paris was still in political deadlock, it appeared the revolution in his province must fend for itself. The commander looked out the window of the manor his men had occupied, he could see the fighting had gotten uncomfortably close during the course of his calling session. He needed to get out of there and regroup with his comrades in more defensible positions. He and his men began to prepare to move, but halfway through packing up, they found the fighting had come to them in the form of several Blades. The commander hardly had time to scream as a Blade in distinct red armor ran him through. As the last of the communists breathed their last, Lucius Numida surveyed the scene, the west was secured, he hoped his subordinate in Montpelier would find similar success.
Montpelier, People's Union of Alpes
The attack on Montpelier was not as elegant as the Bordeaux maneuvers. Short of Blades, with less supporting artillery, combat was fierce. The column from Spain encountered more resistance as well. Victory came, but only because their enemies were disorganized and were unable to effectively regroup. Still, the coast was secured, but their capacity to crush fleeing units was limited. Still, the commander secured victory, and this was good enough, now began the real work, fortifying their beachhead, and reconnecting with the Autocracy's business partners and local allies and beginning the establishment of a collaborationist government. But that would be figured out soon enough, for now the aim was to push inward and rendezvous with Numida in Toulouse, before pushing north.
Russia major, New Imperial Britannia, Zentralreich, The Castelian Federation, and 1 otherEihlagonia
As the Kaiser had previously decided on after his briefing with First Minister Vogt and General Field Marshal Haas, the small Kingdom of Wafflia was set to be invaded by the Kaiserreich to be used as a jumping off point into France. The remnants of a one imposing Western European empire, the Wafflite state was a shadow of its former self, and Haas promised a quick and easy invasion of the deteriorated nation. With the Wafflites ruling over a large number of ethnic Germans, the Empire’s pan-Germanic existence made it rather simple to drum up support for the invasion. War was soon declared on the Wafflites, and if everything went to plan, they’d fall remarkably quickly.
Battle of Essen (13)
Things don’t always go to plan, Essen showed that quite clearly. Even though the Wafflites should have been routed by all calculations, the defense of Essen, a bustling city of half a million residents, was fierce and tactical. Despite bombing runs being conducted by the German Air Force, the city sustained only moderate damage and the Wafflite soldiers were able to hide in the mostly-standing buildings to terrorize the invading Germans. Rooting out the Wafflite forces proved tenuous and took up plenty of valuable time, with the city only falling after days of fighting took a considerable toll on the German invaders. The invasion had only just begun, but the people of Wafflia had shown that they would not go down nearly as easily as the German government had expected or hoped.
Battle of Mainz (11)
Mainz was another city situated on the border with Germany, and while considerably smaller in size than Essen, only having half the population of its northern counterpart, that proved not to mean that the city wasn’t capable of defending itself. Due to the perceived ease with which Waffle would fall, and even more so the relatively small size of the target, considerably less manpower was dedicated to Mainz’s invasion than Essen’s. Unfortunately enough, this decision would ultimately prove to have been less than ideal, as a similar fire of resistance was sparked in the people of Mainz. However, with a far smaller number of Germans to defend from, the soldiers and civilian fighters of the city were able to hold off the Germans from securing the city, with the Germans instead being stopped right around the city center as the commander temporarily called off a further push in order to regroup. However, Mainz was only the second worst thing that the German army had experienced in Wafflia to begin the invasion.
Battle of Karlsruhe (7)
Karlsruhe was a third border city between the Germans and Wafflites, being located on the edge of Wafflite Baden with a population of 300,000, just a hundred thousand higher than Mainz to the north. Similarly to Mainz, a smaller force than Essen was dedicated to taking Karlsruhe, its position right on the border implying a quick and easy strike would take the city without much blood. However, the army was proven to have greatly underestimated the people of the city. Every inch that the Germans took came with fierce resistance from civilian and soldier alike, and after taking nearly a whole day just to capture a couple blocks of city, the attack was called off by the German officers overseeing the invasion.
Berlin, German Empire
Reasonably so, the Kaiser was outraged when Generalfeldmarschall Haas provided him with the reports of the launched invasion of the Wafflite nation. Having been promised a wash, the Kaiser was hit with the shock of his own forces being washed in Karlsruhe, and the immense struggle in Essen and Mainz. The success of actually capturing Essen was undermined by the cost and time that it had consumed to actually accomplish such, and the other two cities were clear failures. With the Ixilians already making landings in Bordeaux and beginning their push for Paris the critical importance of speed was only underscored further. Wilhelm was outraged that the Spanish would refuse to let the Tripartite Pact defend them and yet allow the Ixilians in instead, though it was better than them falling outright to the Alpian revolutionaries. One positive had come out of the developments agreed upon with Vogt, though, and that was the fact that the Flemish had agreed to ascend into the Tripartite Pact. Despite that, with the German army caught up in between themselves and Alpes, Wilhelm had to hope that whatever the British and Flemish would try would see more success. Europe was the Tripartite Pact’s continent to handle, and splitting Alpes with the Ixilians was, undesirable at best.
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Ixilia, Russia major, New Imperial Britannia, and 2 othersThe Castelian Federation, and Eihlagonia
The Emperor, Zhao the Great, would greet his people. And the world governments with a message to Korea. On International Television, on every radio station in China would play the following message. Words from his Majesty himself
"People of Korea,
For too long, your nation has pursued expansionist policies that threaten the peace and stability of our region. Your aggression and belligerence cannot be tolerated any longer. The Zhao Dynasty has tried to resolve this conflict through peaceful means, but your government's intransigence and lack of respect for our sovereignty has left us with no choice but to take action.
Your crimes against your own people are unforgivable and a fascist power on the rise cannot be ignored. We will not stand idly by and watch as you continue to undermine the sovereignty of our neighboring countries and destabilize the region. Our armies are ready, our generals are prepared, and our resolve is unbreakable. We will defend our people and our interests, and we will not stop until your regime is held accountable for its actions.
It is not our desire to engage in war, but we will not hesitate to do what is necessary to protect ourselves and our allies. We call on the Korean government to cease its aggression, respect our sovereignty, and work towards a peaceful resolution to this conflict.
Let it be known that the Zhao Dynasty is a proud and powerful nation, and we will not be intimidated or cowed by those who seek to impose their will upon us. The Korean menace will be defeated, and peace and stability will be restored to our region.
We will be taking immediate military action against the Government of Korea."
As the message would have ended and the pn the Television, Watchers would see the Emperor leave and return back to his palace. All of the Generals Assigned to Operation Black Hawk would recieve a Message from the Emperor himself stating the following
"Commence Operation Black Hawk. I will not tolerate Failure general."
Emboldened
---
Department of War
100,000 soldiers assembled, an entire Castelian battle fleet mobilized, and to top it off, a war in Western Europe. For the Department of War, there was no better time to strike. Even before the emergency session had ended, let alone the Department of Foreign Affairs even beginning to draft the ultimatum, both detachments from the 7th Legion were deployed from the Castelian mainland to the territory of Guinea in anticipation for the rejection of their demands. The session ended with a fairly one sided vote to proceed with the invasion, and was subsequently followed by a drafting of an ultimatum to the Kingdom of Eternal Spain. A day later, the ultimatum was sent. With the Spanish’s refusal to join the Tripartite Pact, and Castel being a member in the Imperium Alliance, the Spanish have left themselves in a rather isolated position, a position that the Directory was eager to exploit. It demanded the Kingdom cede all of Spanish Morocco to the Castelian Federation, as well as the liberation of Portugal from Spanish control. Alongside this, Castel demanded complete access to all Spanish infrastructure, ports, and the like, as well as requesting the total demobilization of the Spanish army. Ironically, the Spanish government agreed to most of the points requested, however rejected the Castelian demands to allow them complete access to all Spanish infrastructure (though noticeably did allow them to have some access to Spanish ports), alongside the total demobilization of the Iberian army. But despite the near complete Iberian capitulation to Castelian demands, that still not enough for Castel. Almost immediately after receiving Madrid’s response, the Department of Foreign Affairs informed the Spanish government that if they could not agree to all of the points listed, then in six hours of the ultimatum being given a state of war would exist between the Empire and the Kingdom. The Spanish never replied. Five minutes after the sixth hour, Castel officially announced that a state of war was now in effect between it and the Kingdom of Eternal Spain, citing Madrid’s refusal to comply with all of the Castelian requests. Within hours of the declaration of war, the forces stationed in Guinea were immediately whisked from the territory to begin preparations for an all out naval assault of the Iberian Peninsula. Curiously, the Department of Foreign Affairs offered no further statements, refraining from even attempting to placate foreign reporters’ fears of further Castelian expansionism. Though one thing was certain: the war will be brutal.
Ten minutes after the ultimatum was given, missile launch facilities located all across northern Castel were notified and given various coordinates to cities along the Atlantic portion of the Spanish and Moroccan coasts. Orders were given, missiles were primed, and soon after the six hours passed and still no answer came from Madrid, they were launched.
For the Empire!
RP: Recme Se
Ayasonan, solan orye yanaor
Roelio Vyro pobilme aspile. No lo come sien abod, ber no lo mat meno. Ambuel vadyan fonses, ber anod.
“Nos potinod. Nos pobiles ti potinod lunan yanaores. Nos cuyacom fana. Salvit, no kales. Nos seinol dis y dis. Mina des y no me des. Dosero, mayad flikua, mi asoro. Mulos kuem des, kuem dosa. Diretoria abeo ofisuoses lis potinod, plomyoses lis. Nos pelintis.”
Vyro meno nosalma. “Aneso sean, Diretoriel nyonerado. Kalid, y pobilel dis. Mi cuyos solanan cudeyues mat. Yo asuax mi beiibarus ci pacme Elakonyel ase.”
Pobil faredos cuana nelsit ambuel vadyaen. Koran aspile velnana ruleb. Nelsit koranme Calmandorel des. Calmandor li vilo. “Roelio Vyro, seno.”
Vyro sono.
“Roelio Vyro. Tu le oneranda Elakonyel, tuco si paisletus resitiuna?”
Lo koranan kreiyos aspili. Emados, emados nelix com norye, nelix com mulos, le volo. Li asuax. Vyro nide. “Sean.”
Calmandor riso, y Russo com lo riso. Calmandor koranme isi cabedel. “Ofisuc Pobiles Elakonyes, y Risyelco Telcuyas Ixile. Roelio Vyro, Recme se!”
RP: You Are King
In Ayasone, Eight Days Before Now
Rojelio Vyros gazed at the people. He didn’t know what to feel, but he couldn’t wait longer. He walked slowly to the front of the throne, but stood.
“We have failed. We the people have failed each other these past months. We lacked strength. We welcomed enemies, not friends. We gave and gave to them. They took and did not give. It hurts me, the pain, such suffering. Who death has taken, who death shall take. The Directory failed to uphold its duties, its promises. We allowed ourselves to fall.”
Vyros paused momentarily. “I stand here, unburdened by the Directory. I have welcomed friends, I have given for the people. I have guided us towards a more holy day. I would have myself flayed if it brought Eihlagonia peace.”
“But peace cannot come without order. The Directory failed in this. I shall not. I have a mandate to my people, to my Eihlagonia. In this I shall succeed.”
The crowd began to quiet as a soldier advanced down the center aisle. The crown gazed out from atop the red pillow. The soldier gave the crown to Calmandor. Calmandor inspected it. “Rojelio Vyros, sit.”
Vyros sat.
“Rojelio Vyros. Will you burden yourself, will you sacrifice, for Eihlagonia? Will you give yourself so your homeland shall rise?”
He gazed into the gray crown. The gems, the gems black as night, black as death, stared back. It must be done. Vyros nodded. “I will.”
Calmandor smiled, and Russo smiled with him. Calmandor placed the crown upon Vyros’ head. “With the Mandate of the People of Eihlagonia, and with the Blessing of the Empire of Ixilia. Rojelio Vyros, You Are King!”
Eighteen years ago, Army Lieutenant Matthew Parker's father stood on the deck of the HMS Sovereign, as the British Army invaded the coast of the Western Pillar of the Golden Throne. Fate would have it that Lieutenant Parker now watched as the coastline of Normandy drew closer, eighteen years later, fighting a different war against a changed Alpean state.
The Imperial Cabinet announced the intent to intervene suddenly, amidst reports of a revolution in the Empire's neighbour across the Channel. Parker and his unit boarded one of the North Sea Fleet's transports soon after, arriving on the Norman coastline in a matter of hours. The commander of the task force assigned to the invasion of Normandy ordered a bombing run from the ship-carried aircraft, against the assembling Alpean positions on the horizon. His plan was to shock the disorganized revolutionaries, perhaps make Parker's job, and the jobs of the amphibious warfare units, a little easier.
The bombings could only be described as catastrophic, and not in a good way for the British. It was somehow the worst showing of the British Air Force in the past twenty years, as entire payloads of explosives missed their mark completely and struck the nearby Channel, or into an abandoned townhouse instead. By the time the first round of bombing was finished, the commander was unsure whether he wanted to laugh, cry, or shout at the pilots for their entirely ineffective run.
Still, the invasion must continue. Several destroyers escorting the fleet opened fire, providing a small beachhead for soldiers to land on, but it simply wasn't enough. The onboard guns were a long shot away from the original 406mm cannons used by the battleships--and even in the original invasion of Normandy, the cannons had not proven to be helpful against shore defenses. With the initial landing attempt unable to progress further, the task force opted to wait for their planes to resupply, and try again.
Calais, on the other hand, was a much more successful endeavour by comparison. The bombers had hit their targets, the ships had deployed landing craft, and, with plenty of air support, the soldiers had landed on the poorly defended shoreline. The invasion force had then easily taken the beach from the disorganized Alpean revolutionaries, and then progressed into the city of Calais. They were greeted with fierce resistance from the local partisans, who wanted nothing to do with a British invasion--and they tried to defend the city however they could. Usually this involved shooting back, which was exactly what the invasion force encountered when they entered into the city, a man with a rifle firing from a vantage point. It would be indicative of the kind of resistance the soldiers would face in the city, as from every window and cover point, there was a disgruntled Alpean with a firearm. But the disorganized resistance was pushed back, slowly at first, then the pace picked up, and soon enough every source of Alpean armed resistance in Calais had been identified, made to surrender, or neutralized.
Normandy was fully expecting another invasion by now, and the commander was eager to redeem himself after the utter failure that was the first attempt at landing in Normandy. As the bombers left the runway for a second run, the pilots, too, had redemption in their minds. It just so happened that a second run was all that the defenders needed to relent, and make way for the British landing craft. Even so, they did not make it easy. Guerilla fighting was even more intense here than in Calais, and the defenders in the Navy's landing spot of choice, the coastal city of Trouville-sur-Mer, held on for dear life. The offensive progressed slowly, but with competent air support, there was no way to hold off the British advance. The city's port was secured, but only after fierce fighting and a long-winded resistance from the Alpeans. Still, they were outmatched, and outgunned. The port was taken, and now all that remained was a race to Paris.
- Bombing of Normandy: Nat 1 :clown:
- 1st invasion of Normandy: 10 vs 13 (for story purposes I am not applying the penalty here)
- 2nd invasion of Normandy: 6 vs 4
- Invasion of Calais: 3 vs -6
Blackstone Palace, Ixilia
Russo breathed a sigh of relief, the Autocrat was delighted by the footage, and even bought that the coronation had happened several months prior, not long after his famous meeting with Decimus, and that Russo simply kept forgetting to request said footage, it being such a trifling detail and that his duties towards planning the coming invasions simply got the better of him. Ah Decimus, simpler times, his SVG was a real deal, they were an effective force, and he proved an effective rival. That reminded him, the lab boys were reporting favorable progress with their stem cell therapy, and the grafts had taken well. Perhaps it was time to pay his old rival a visit.
The corpse of Decimus sat in a tank, it being stuffed with tubes and an array of lab coat wearing Officaeli working at terminals and reading off vitals. Russo's entry prompted the scientists to fall into a bow.
"You may resume."
Russo's chair tapped its way over to the tank holding the corpse of the former Castelian Emperor. The extraction had been a thing of art. The agent assigned to Decimus had secured his body on record spread. The body double was the more complicated thing to place, but since they had cultivated a fake corpse in the event they needed to abduct the former emperor, it wasn't too hard getting it on scene. The SVG bought it hook and sinker, Russo took that as a sign that it would not be nearly as capable as a force without Decimus at the helm of state. He hated that man, he foiled the Autocracy's aims during the Castelian Interregnum, and proved a mixed partner during his reign, always holding the Autocracy's feet to the fire. He was a capable foe, and Russo had respected that. Hopefully he'll make an even better asset.
Russo inspected the body for thoroughly. The damage from the fire and explosion had been minimal thankfully, but the technicians had intentional worsened his exterior in order to make it more believable. Despite the best efforts of the agent to secure the body, the brain had undergone serious deterioration and was the hardest thing to heal, they had managed to get it 'running' again, though the brain seemed only partially capable of communicating with the rest of the body. Their work around had been to stuff the body full of cybernetics in order to enable the brain to effectively communicate with the rest of the body. The technicians weren't certain of the long-term stability of these measures, as this was all bleeding edge technology, and the application had only been theoretical up to this point. There had been an attempt with Emilius, but they proved unfruitful as the body was too degraded to resuscitate.
"So, anything I should know about this before we release it into the field?"
"Well your majesty, the frontal cortex is naturally the most effected region, and the hardest to repair. We managed to largely reduce it, we suspect deep with his psyche there is still a shadow of the old Decimus, but in order to control for this we have installed an inhibitor chip into him that should hopefully keep him loyal to the autocracy by filtering negative associations and enhancing positive ones. We believe he should be more demure than the old Decimus, but we can only say this with a confidence of 80%. Our technology is still not sufficient to say with certainty that he will be perfectly obedient, as in order to get him to that point we'd either have to lower his IQ by two standard deviations, and up the inhibitor's protocols, the combination of the two would like reduce him to an idiot, and then he'd be unfit for the position in the first place."
"This is acceptable, the analysts say the Castelians wouldn't accept a mentally deficient ruler, and we need our puppet to actually pacify the people and gain us support. If they thought we completely lobotomized him, they'd resent us more than praise us, even those Avant Garde members would raise their nose."
"We are still struggling to get his fine motor skills online; would your excellency be offended if we just opt for direct integration with an exoframe skeleton. We've resolved the issue of rigor mortis, but the brain seems to be struggling to correctly send out commands to the right side."
"Whatever needs to be done to get him walking, do it. Hell, just remove the right ligaments if need be, we can sell it as they were lost to the fire and so we gave him new mechanical prosthetics. Now I have other matters to attend to."
Russo looked up the body once again, it was fascinating to watch the Autocracy's grandest technology at work. It still was only a shadow of his elder brother's treatments, but the Autocrat was an exceptional case, the process of extending a God's life is an entirely different ordeal than doing the same for a mere mortal, for are all meant to die one die, but Gods are eternal.
~~07:10 Abyssal flotilla 1, pride of the fleet Cythalls Glory~~
The Empress Eternal and the Grand marshal looked over the deck of the ship, the fleet around them bustling with activity. As the troops were loaded into their transports, the Island of Okinawa off in the distance, the morning sun barely appearing over the horizon.
It had been the Grand Marshals idea to launch the invasion this early, a sort of joke about Japans own history with early morning attacks. Though this time, they were the ones being attacked.
The time looming ever closer as the ships of the fleet began to aim their guns towards the islands, and the suspected military defenses.
It was now 07:20, as the Empress began to speak through encrypted channels to her men.
"Soilders of Caedisia, in mere minutes you shall embark upon the most holy of tasks. The Japanese empire has stood for far too long in the sun, and has become a sun scorched relic of a bygone age."
"It is now time for us to come out of the shadows we have clung to so dearly and make our own place in the sun. No longer are we afraid of our enemies or the horrors that stalk our living memory. No longer are we the remenants that fled Europe many years ago."
"Our forefathers longed for this day, and now the time has come, show the world and our ancestors that we shant remain in the shadows any longer. We shall have our place in the world and bring about a new world order!"
The time was now 07:30, the time had come
"Men and women of Caedisia march forward and bring about the era of black fire!!"
"All battery's, level the heretical stains were they stand! Fire until your guns glow hot with righteous hellfire!"
With but a word, the guns of the Caedisian navy, and that of her allied ships. Rang out from the shores around okinawa to Iwo Jima, as the invasion began, with great success and bloodshed. As any defenders that would be awake to stop the landings are cut aside by the cacophony of artillery raining from the sky.
{Caedisian rolls 11,6}
{Japan rolls 6, 1}
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Ixilia, The united peoples of caedis, Zentralreich, and 2 othersThe Castelian Federation, and Eihlagonia
Neck to Neck
---
Department of War
None in the General Staff had thought an invasion of Morocco would be easy, their experiences in Peru and Bolivia were proof of that. But the little to no impact of the missile strikes had on the Kingdom, due primarily to the Spanish being more prepared than what they had initially anticipated, coupled with the failed invasion of Agadir, caused much of the Department’s confidence to waver. But with the breakthrough at Casablanca, a combination of sheer Castelian will, and a disorganized Spanish garrison due to the shrapnel from the blown up missiles hitting the city gave the Castelians the initiative, and allowed them to gain a foothold. While the battle was still hard fought, news of the victory increased morale dramatically, both on the field and at home, reinvigorating the General Staff. The Spanish, who themselves were already preparing for the inevitability of an invasion by the new communist regime in France, were able to quickly redirect their forces to the invading Castelians once the threat of the Alpian communist regime was neutralized by a coalition of nations. The Castelians, who while expected to face some resistance, had not taken into consideration the possibility that the Spanish had already mobilized, faced heavy casualties. While casualties on both sides were high, the Spanish managed to hold their ground at Agadir, despite the Castelian onslaught against their positions. While the Castelians initially made some ground due to their successful missile strikes managing to throw the Spanish forces into disarray, they eventually regrouped, and ground the Castelian advance to a halt, eventually forcing the Castelians to retreat back to the coast. At Casablanca, the Spanish defenders were less fortunate. After a close battle, the Spanish were forced to retreat from the outskirts of the city, and fled to the interior of the city. The battle then descended into door-to-door combat as the weakened Castelian ground forces continued to request for further reinforcements, while simultaneously attempting to continue their advance towards the heart of the city in the hopes of finally pushing the Spanish out, and thus opening the door for an assault against the Moroccan heartland itself.
For the Empire!
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Ixilia, Russia major, The united peoples of caedis, and 2 othersNew Imperial Britannia, and Eihlagonia
The Captain and Emiliya approved of the plan, except for two changes, Damien would lead the Platoon, and Emiliya would join them in the Scouting party to provide further communications support.
The next morning at 05:00 local time Damien, Emiliya, and Semyon stood on the aft deck as the platoon loaded the RIBs. Each was clad from head to toe in the camouflaged protective suit, totally enclosed. Its articulated joints and connections allowed individual components to be removed without compromising the integrity of the rest of the suit. The whole was surmounted by a hood which mated with the respirator, providing the wearer with a comparable field of vision as if not wearing it, fresh water, and 24 hours' protection from various threats.
Emiliya watched as two Seamen hefted a MULE between them over the side of the Great Rus and passed it to two others in the RIB. Semyon followed her eyes and answered the question implicit in her gaze,
"Don't worry tovarisch, they can handle it just fine. I've seen Engineers in the gym using MULEs for bench weights."
"Not that you didn't beat the hell out of them afterwards." Damien added. His tone was displeased, a product of Nikolai ordering him to leave the ship and relative comfort of his berth for ground operations, something he detested.
Semyon took the opportunity to sidle away from the others, and set himself about supervising the final stages of loading the RIBs.
"How's your droidenean?" Damien asked his mentee, changing the subject.
Emiliya cocked her head for a moment, as if remembering, then spoke a few sentences of droidenean in rapid succession.
"Impressive." Damien smiled, "Do they teach Droidenean at Frunze?"
"Aye, I studied three languages tovarisch Captain-leytenant, Petrograd's very enthusiastic for us to be able to communicate freely with allies, the Academy even organises instructor exchanges now with allied forces, to help us understand each other. I had a Droidenean Major teaching my course." She seemed to realise what she'd said after the fact, "I hope he's okay." She finished lamely.
Damien nudged her, "Maybe he is tovarisch, Droidenean soldiers are hardy, even alone. But it won't do him any good to wonder, death will either have found him or not, but if you fight as if it has, you will fight that much harder, and then death will certainly not find you before you can see him again."
His words hung, constricted, in the heat of her protective mask: just long enough for him to wonder if he'd said more than was needed, before he was saved by Semyon returning,
"Tovarisch Kapitan-leytenant, we're ready."
Damien grabbed his scud and radioed the bridge,
"Starikov to Kapitan Pavlenko, requesting permission to depart."
Nikolai's voice came back quickly,
"Permission granted Kapitan-Leytenant, go safely, godspeed."
Pounding Sand
---
Department of War
A breakthrough was made. After tens of hundreds of casualties on each side, the Castelians, reinforced with more detachments from the Seventh Legion, finally dislodged the Moroccan defense, and pushed the Spanish forces out of Casablanca. After being driven from the city itself, the Castelians made a daring advance to gain a position outside the city, with limited success. While they managed to secure the surrounding area around the city, it came at a heavy cost. Hundreds more were lost in the offensive, with a fraction of that being lost by the Spanish Army. However, the second assault on Agadir was arguably worse than the first. Attempting to gain a second foothold on the Spanish colony, the Castelian General Staff redoubled their efforts, increasing the size of the invasion force, and intensifying the naval bombardment of the city. But even with the added support, the Spanish garrison held firm. Even during the start of the second invasion, Castelian forces made very little headway against the Spanish, but still suffered nearly a thousand casualties. It was a catastrophic defeat for the Castelian military. In retaliation for the devastating loss the Spanish defenders inflicted on them, Castel launched a series of terror bombings in rapid succession, which focused on Moroccan cities along the coast. While moderate damage was inflicted on the areas which were targeted, it was not enough to seriously hinder the Spanish war effort. However, the sheer intensity and speed of the bombings have seemed to affect overall Moroccan morale. Nevertheless, the Spanish government has remained committed to the war, and against heavy odds has held out far longer than what could have ever been expected of them.
For the Empire!
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Russia major, New Imperial Britannia, and Eihlagonia
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Ixilia, The united peoples of caedis, New Imperial Britannia, and 2 othersZentralreich, and Eihlagonia
Once-Cold Trails
The forest was warm, as it usually was this time of year. The swiftly-turning spring into a temperate summer struck General Sigtryggr with a new light. For many weeks, or months, or perhaps the better part of a few years he had stayed in the Norwegian mountains, trying desperately to get into contact with anyone. Boats in from Iceland or Britain perhaps, or maybe someone had survived in the Baltic Sea? It seemed that his hopes of someone, anyone, were getting to be exhausted. Famished, he took a swig from his metal canteen, one which once contained sweet mead, now containing something to the effect of liquified nutraloaf. Worse than prisoner's slop, he muttered to himself, choking back the vile, viscous liquid, before plodding on through the snowbanks back to the base in Nidaros. A few thousand men, five hundred civilians, plenty wounded and the late King Kor of Norway's corpse and standard were all that he knew to remain of Droiden.
He made it back to the base, where some men hastily opened the gates before shutting them quickly. The General had sent a party across the mountain range into Sweden several weeks ago, but there had been no contact with them in quite some time. However, he felt compelled to shoot them another message with a break in the vapor storms fast approaching. He made a quick trip to the canteen to fill up his nutraslurp jug before going to the radio centre.
"Group Niner-One Epsilon, is anyone out there?"
...
"Niner-One, do you read me?"
...
"Goddamnit, read! We can't lose any more men here. This phosphorus is going to roll in and suffocate us before you make it there and back."
...
...
-kzztt.-
"Hello? Niner-One is that you?"
-kzztt.-
-kzzttzztt.-
"We [uninteligible] -thing. Your window is fifte- [uninteligible]. Send a mes-[uninteligible]-ge to the worl-[uninteligible]!"
"Niner-one, go again, what was that?"
"Just sa-[uninteligible]- omething!"
Unsure of what was meant by the man on the other end of the radio, Sigtryggr spoke into the radio.
"To anyone who hears this, this is General Sigtryggr Lauridssen. We are alive."
Unbeknownst to the General, Niner-One had been able to, with much loss of life to phosphorus intoxication, patch the message into a hastily assembled transmitter at an abandoned radio station in the mountains. This message was cast out into the world, for anyone to hear it.
-kzztt.-
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Ixilia, Russia major, The united peoples of caedis, and 3 othersNew Imperial Britannia, The Castelian Federation, and Eihlagonia
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