Official War Thread
- Lord_Montague
- Posts: 913
- Joined: Tue Sep 18, 2007 2:39 pm
Official War Thread
This is the only official war thread. Please refrain from arguing here and do it outside this thread so the recwar can move along as fluidly as possible.
Thanks,
Monty and Vilhelm.
Thanks,
Monty and Vilhelm.
In Battle; Unbeatable.
In Victory; Unbearable.
In Victory; Unbearable.
- Lord_Montague
- Posts: 913
- Joined: Tue Sep 18, 2007 2:39 pm
Re: Official War Thread
The atmosphere in the room was tense. For the first time since the great defeat of Lovely in the War of Matbaaic Liberation, HM Government was considering mobilising its armed forces to make war with other nations. The reformed Joint Defence and Intelligence Committee was meeting in the Concillium Praetoris chamber with the three current Prefects (or Praetors) of Lovely; Guido Zambelis, Sanjeev Sabha and Anthony Montague. Although a shadow of its former self as the omnipotent body for all of Lovely's military and foreign affairs, J-DIC still carried a form of power as the liasing body between the political leaders of Lovely and its military.
The meeting had been called at the behest of the IASA who had been monitoring the situation occuring in what were now being called the Jasonian Isles though it was a collection of islands with loose affiliations to a host of micronational powers. The emergence of a new terrorist group had first caught the IASA's eye but the subsequent explosion of tensions in the region had made sure that the attention of Lovely satellites, listening stations and ground assets focused on the disputed Islands. With the emergence of an ancient and baffling weapon in what was being termed a gravship, the IASA had finally called on J-DIC to meet. All present had received the same briefing beforehand so it was no surprise that the current leader of the Concillium Praetoris, Anthony Montague, spoke first over the issue.
"So what else do we have on this so called gravship?" he asked, closing his file on it.
"Not much. We have what we were capable of finding from micronational archives of that generation, but its still pretty sketchy. You all have the satellite photos of it. We recently managed to obtain infrared photos from one of our satellites. The huge glow is the gravship but as to what powers it, we remain in the dark. The records speak of these gravships being capable of levelling whole cities and being formidably armed with lasers. Its tremendously advanced. Our analysts are pouring over everything they can find on it. We should have their report in a number of days but I don't predict happy reading on it, gentlemen." replied Guido, Director of the IASA as well as a Praetor.
"Its an abomination. I think that we're all under no illusion that such a thing should not be allowed to exist, yes?" asked Montague to the room. The reply was unanimous in its agreement with him.
"If we get a hold of it, I wouldn't mind seeing its workings so we could cannibalise some of it honestly. Its not likely that'll happen though unless we bring it down to Micras again." said Guido as the military commanders kept quiet. They knew the problems from the previous incarnations of J-DIC of having military figures delve into political decisions like this.
"What's the diplomatic stance on this?" asked Montague, Sabha the Praetor Extrarius or Foreign Secretary of Lovely.
"Novatainia is supporting the terrorist group as well as this gravship. No surprise considering they love magic. Shireroth and Babkha are lining up to take it down, probably because they view it as a threat to their hegemony. Batavia is also moving against the gravship as its happening on their turf essentially. Nova England and one of its proctectorates are supporting Novatainia along with Antica. I don't think the diplomatic scene will change much if we support the destruction of the gravship. Relations with Novatainia have always been frosty since the collapse of the Second Kingdom of Lovely and the great diaspora, especially because of your father. Nova England are pals when they want to be but nothing too formal and the same goes for Antica. It wont be too much trouble to move against them." explained Sabha. The part about magic had drawn a desiroy snort from Guido, a sentiment shared by Montague and most of Lovely.
"My father has been dead for a long time now. His ghost should not be influencing our foreign affairs, Sanjeev. What options can the military present then?" asked Montague turning to the Chief of the Defence Staff, First Lord of the Admiralty Sir Paul Hastings, Baron of Old Spexico.
"It could be possible to organise a ground deployment to be airlifted to Batavian territory in the Island. That would counter Novatainian ground forces. Yet, the logistics and difficulties of flying that far as well as the fact hostiles will be present makes the movement of such troops by an air armada unfeasible. The only option I can think of, and I think my fellow service chiefs will agree with, is the naval option. A taskforce could be sent to the islands with the intention of denying the seas and possibly the air to hostile forces. The other nations fighting with us could then provide the remainder of the forces to fight the war on the ground. We simply don't have the manpower like the old days to fight a war half way round Micras." concluded Sir Paul in explanation to his old friend Anthony, son of his mentor.
"Chances of success? What can we expect to be fighting against?" asked Guido, interjecting before Montague could with the exact same question. Guido vaugely had knowledge of other nation's military prowess but that realm of IASA affairs had always tended to fall neatly into the lap of the Chiefs of Staff rather than him as Director of the IASA.
"50/50 chance of success. Sirs, what you need to understand is that while Novatainia is facing 4 other nations which can boast powerful armies with no more than two other allies Novatainia can deploy far more resources than most micronations. Add to that the fact that Babkha has too much internal strife to spare too many forces and Shireroth has been split down the middle regarding which side to support. Batavia is an unknown in the equation. Also, Novatainian forces have some fascination with lasers themselves. Personally, we've never understood why they don't go with the more reliable systems we use but they seem to like bright lights even if it costs them efficiency, which our intelligence reports suggest it will. That could work to our advantage along with the experience of our own commanders. Yet, the Novatainians have a good military tradition we can't underestimate. Its too close to call who'll win this one." concluded Hastings. There was silence in the room while the Prefects considered their options. Anthony Montague sat looking into the dark table as though an answer would appear from within it. Eventually he spoke.
"Prepare the Kingdom for war. Inform our allies of our decision, Sanjeev. Introduce the Home Defence Ordinances, Guido. We all have our duties to do." Montague said quietly, breaking up the meeting. Hastings looked at his close friend who had seemed to age more drastically than ever before during his time in Prefectship of Home. There was none of the bombastic rhetoric of his father in his action to take Lovely to war. There was no rousing rallying cry for freedom. Just a reserved sadness in the decision to take Lovely to war.
The room had cleared and Hastings walked over to his friend who sat back in his chair in the Committee Bunker of the secret J-DIC Centre built to the directions of Babs of Beaugium.
"Since I came into office, Paul, I've done nothing but try and preserve Lovely's waning power and influence. I've tried to get us seats at the big tables and win us friends; place us in the ranks of the grand old states like Alexandria, Babkha and the like. Why do I have the horrible feeling I've just thrown all of that away?" said Anthony to his friend.
"You haven't, Ant. You've made a noble decision." assured Hastings.
"My father and Guido made a noble decision to defend the rights of small nations and that plunged us into the most devastating war ever fought on Micras. It ended up with my whole family dead, my father a completely different man and Lovely destroyed. Noble decisions are rarely practical or sensible ones, Paul." lamented Montague.
"You said it yourself before; your father's ghost should not be influencing policy so long after his death. Besides your father would be proud of you." reassured Hastings, trying to make what seemed like a despondent Montague rise to the challenge expected of him as a Lovely War Leader. He walked to the double doors of the cavernous committee room, his footsteps echoing on the marble floors
"The Standing Naval Taskforce should be ready to sail this evening. We'll make with all available haste to the warzone." informed Hastings before he was about to walk through the oak pannelled doors.
"Paul, you said my father would be proud of me? That's what I'm most afraid of." said Montague as Hastings turned to look at him. Hastings gave a half smile to his friend and nodded acknowledgement of his feelings, neither affirming nor denying the sentiment expressed.
Summary:
The Kingdom of Lovely fleet has left Home and is sailing east for the warzone.
The meeting had been called at the behest of the IASA who had been monitoring the situation occuring in what were now being called the Jasonian Isles though it was a collection of islands with loose affiliations to a host of micronational powers. The emergence of a new terrorist group had first caught the IASA's eye but the subsequent explosion of tensions in the region had made sure that the attention of Lovely satellites, listening stations and ground assets focused on the disputed Islands. With the emergence of an ancient and baffling weapon in what was being termed a gravship, the IASA had finally called on J-DIC to meet. All present had received the same briefing beforehand so it was no surprise that the current leader of the Concillium Praetoris, Anthony Montague, spoke first over the issue.
"So what else do we have on this so called gravship?" he asked, closing his file on it.
"Not much. We have what we were capable of finding from micronational archives of that generation, but its still pretty sketchy. You all have the satellite photos of it. We recently managed to obtain infrared photos from one of our satellites. The huge glow is the gravship but as to what powers it, we remain in the dark. The records speak of these gravships being capable of levelling whole cities and being formidably armed with lasers. Its tremendously advanced. Our analysts are pouring over everything they can find on it. We should have their report in a number of days but I don't predict happy reading on it, gentlemen." replied Guido, Director of the IASA as well as a Praetor.
"Its an abomination. I think that we're all under no illusion that such a thing should not be allowed to exist, yes?" asked Montague to the room. The reply was unanimous in its agreement with him.
"If we get a hold of it, I wouldn't mind seeing its workings so we could cannibalise some of it honestly. Its not likely that'll happen though unless we bring it down to Micras again." said Guido as the military commanders kept quiet. They knew the problems from the previous incarnations of J-DIC of having military figures delve into political decisions like this.
"What's the diplomatic stance on this?" asked Montague, Sabha the Praetor Extrarius or Foreign Secretary of Lovely.
"Novatainia is supporting the terrorist group as well as this gravship. No surprise considering they love magic. Shireroth and Babkha are lining up to take it down, probably because they view it as a threat to their hegemony. Batavia is also moving against the gravship as its happening on their turf essentially. Nova England and one of its proctectorates are supporting Novatainia along with Antica. I don't think the diplomatic scene will change much if we support the destruction of the gravship. Relations with Novatainia have always been frosty since the collapse of the Second Kingdom of Lovely and the great diaspora, especially because of your father. Nova England are pals when they want to be but nothing too formal and the same goes for Antica. It wont be too much trouble to move against them." explained Sabha. The part about magic had drawn a desiroy snort from Guido, a sentiment shared by Montague and most of Lovely.
"My father has been dead for a long time now. His ghost should not be influencing our foreign affairs, Sanjeev. What options can the military present then?" asked Montague turning to the Chief of the Defence Staff, First Lord of the Admiralty Sir Paul Hastings, Baron of Old Spexico.
"It could be possible to organise a ground deployment to be airlifted to Batavian territory in the Island. That would counter Novatainian ground forces. Yet, the logistics and difficulties of flying that far as well as the fact hostiles will be present makes the movement of such troops by an air armada unfeasible. The only option I can think of, and I think my fellow service chiefs will agree with, is the naval option. A taskforce could be sent to the islands with the intention of denying the seas and possibly the air to hostile forces. The other nations fighting with us could then provide the remainder of the forces to fight the war on the ground. We simply don't have the manpower like the old days to fight a war half way round Micras." concluded Sir Paul in explanation to his old friend Anthony, son of his mentor.
"Chances of success? What can we expect to be fighting against?" asked Guido, interjecting before Montague could with the exact same question. Guido vaugely had knowledge of other nation's military prowess but that realm of IASA affairs had always tended to fall neatly into the lap of the Chiefs of Staff rather than him as Director of the IASA.
"50/50 chance of success. Sirs, what you need to understand is that while Novatainia is facing 4 other nations which can boast powerful armies with no more than two other allies Novatainia can deploy far more resources than most micronations. Add to that the fact that Babkha has too much internal strife to spare too many forces and Shireroth has been split down the middle regarding which side to support. Batavia is an unknown in the equation. Also, Novatainian forces have some fascination with lasers themselves. Personally, we've never understood why they don't go with the more reliable systems we use but they seem to like bright lights even if it costs them efficiency, which our intelligence reports suggest it will. That could work to our advantage along with the experience of our own commanders. Yet, the Novatainians have a good military tradition we can't underestimate. Its too close to call who'll win this one." concluded Hastings. There was silence in the room while the Prefects considered their options. Anthony Montague sat looking into the dark table as though an answer would appear from within it. Eventually he spoke.
"Prepare the Kingdom for war. Inform our allies of our decision, Sanjeev. Introduce the Home Defence Ordinances, Guido. We all have our duties to do." Montague said quietly, breaking up the meeting. Hastings looked at his close friend who had seemed to age more drastically than ever before during his time in Prefectship of Home. There was none of the bombastic rhetoric of his father in his action to take Lovely to war. There was no rousing rallying cry for freedom. Just a reserved sadness in the decision to take Lovely to war.
The room had cleared and Hastings walked over to his friend who sat back in his chair in the Committee Bunker of the secret J-DIC Centre built to the directions of Babs of Beaugium.
"Since I came into office, Paul, I've done nothing but try and preserve Lovely's waning power and influence. I've tried to get us seats at the big tables and win us friends; place us in the ranks of the grand old states like Alexandria, Babkha and the like. Why do I have the horrible feeling I've just thrown all of that away?" said Anthony to his friend.
"You haven't, Ant. You've made a noble decision." assured Hastings.
"My father and Guido made a noble decision to defend the rights of small nations and that plunged us into the most devastating war ever fought on Micras. It ended up with my whole family dead, my father a completely different man and Lovely destroyed. Noble decisions are rarely practical or sensible ones, Paul." lamented Montague.
"You said it yourself before; your father's ghost should not be influencing policy so long after his death. Besides your father would be proud of you." reassured Hastings, trying to make what seemed like a despondent Montague rise to the challenge expected of him as a Lovely War Leader. He walked to the double doors of the cavernous committee room, his footsteps echoing on the marble floors
"The Standing Naval Taskforce should be ready to sail this evening. We'll make with all available haste to the warzone." informed Hastings before he was about to walk through the oak pannelled doors.
"Paul, you said my father would be proud of me? That's what I'm most afraid of." said Montague as Hastings turned to look at him. Hastings gave a half smile to his friend and nodded acknowledgement of his feelings, neither affirming nor denying the sentiment expressed.
Summary:
The Kingdom of Lovely fleet has left Home and is sailing east for the warzone.
In Battle; Unbeatable.
In Victory; Unbearable.
In Victory; Unbearable.
Re: Official War Thread
The past couple weeks of repairs (mostly involving excessive application of duct tape, but a few systems had been legitimately fixed) had kept everyone on board the Omen quite busy. Piloting the thing in a straight line was one matter; getting it ready for actual hostilities something else entirely. By now the Nelagans were getting a pretty decent idea of what they could rely on from the Omen’s systems. The ancient Jasonians would have hung their heads in shame to see what the mighty craft had been reduced to, but as far as Harvey was concerned, things were at least partially optimistic.
Even Nickleson had toned down his apocalyptic protests. They were no longer “almost certain to be burned alive when this whole thing goes up in a flame you could see from the moonâ€, nor “absolute madmen for even considering the possibility of taking this blasted thing against even a something that could fling a random rock.†He still “highly disapproved of all this†and thought that “the whole thing is very foolish,†but considering the alternative that was almost a sign of encouragement.
Almost immediately after their broadcast of the Nelagan independence, King Andreas himself of Novatainia had, by way of their militia contacts on the ground, contacted Harvey on the Omen. He scheduled a meeting with Harvey aboard the gravship to discuss what the Nelagan independence from Novatainia would mean. This was pretty much the make or break point for the revolution and had everyone fussing trying to clean up and look suitably presentable to a King. Andreas hadn’t given them much time to sweat, having arrived via shuttle in less than an hour despite having traveled all the way from Novatica. Their meeting had been short but extremely fruitful. While the Novatainians did not believe they could support an immediate lands transfer via the MCS for political reasons, they were wholeheartedly behind the Nelagan cause and would commit considerably force to ensuring its safety and sent a team of engineers to help with the repairs of the Omen immediately. Their steadfast support was almost suspicious in its size, but Harvey was not about to look a gift mylittlepony in the mouth.
After a few attempts to get Bob Robinson to help with the repairs, mostly involving idealism and bribery but occasionally mixing in a few vague threats, eventually they’d given up on him and released him the nearby city of Sai’Por. Rumor has it he had gone straight to Colonel Vilhelm and resigned his post on the spot. Nobody had heard from him since. It was probably for the best that he taken a new direction in his life as the previous clearly wasn't doing him much good.
As one man left the Omen, hundreds more came on board. The automatic subsystems were nice, but in most cases they were nothing compared to having real human hands and brains on sight. The Omen and its crew had many needs that needed to be filled personally. All in all they’d estimated the crew of the omen to require about 950 men; a far cry from its full compliment in the golden days, but more than sufficient to run things as it was. The Nelaga militia was trained for this role, but after Novatainia declared their public support for the Nelagan independence the request for men had been extended to the locals in the research centers and even to the Novatainian homeland. A few weeks of hasty reorganization later, the crew was about half and half.
At home, the new Nelaga Territories country was doing somewhat well. A capital city had been chosen at Nova Kajar and that small research base had seen a massive surge of growth in the past weeks. A flag had been created by a local man and had been swiftly chosen and went into production; many cities already had at least a couple flying high with pride and the Omen was scheduled to get some for their own use in the next few days. There was already talk of a constitution being drafted. Things were looking pretty okay for the young country.
There was just one lingering problem.
“That’s a whole lot of military force out there,†Harvey remarked from the Bridge of the FIoJ Fist Omen-class Gravship. In front of him was a full map of the territory with known military force distribution. It was not an uncluttered map.
“Yes, it is,†agreed Areuhat.
And it was. True to their king’s promise, Novatainia had both called their allies at Nova England and Kagon conToketi and deployed considerably military might of their own to the area. Many parts and coasts of Nelaga were defended by allied forces by now. The Republic of Antica had also deployed several peacekeeping forces to the area to stop the conflict but, in a move most failed to anticipate, formally pledged those forces towards defending the Nelagan claim to existence. As far as friends went, thankfully Nelaga did not stand alone.
But nor did they stand unopposed. Maraguo and their parent country of Batavia steadfastly refused the Nelagan claims to the island chain and were fully prepared not to let them go down without a fight. Natopia and Lovely had joined their cause on the general principle of not letting upstarts like Nelaga get their way in the world. Shireroth, predictably, had been too involved in one of its endless civil disputes to sent the full might of their army but had reorganized some detached forces from the Gascon arena into what appeared to be a formidable fighting force. The Hyperboreans, who had been expected to stay neutral if not outright support the Nelagan cause, had inexplicitly chosen to side against them; their legendary Opal airships, likely filled to the brim with fighting Paladins, were already on the way. Perhaps most frustratingly, someone had hired a large number of mercenaries (no one was fessing up, but signs pointed also to Shireroth) under the command of the notorious Exteme. Those were bound to be a problem.
“We’re too evenly matched,†Harvey said with a bit exasperation. “I don’t care much for even fights. In fact, I don’t really care much for fights in general. Our message was one of peace and hope, not violence.â€
Areuhat said, “Many nations have responded to that message and come to aid us and ensure it does not fade away.â€
Glancing back at the crowded military display, Harvey said, “And yet, others have come to snuff it out of the world. Why do they do this? By what right?â€
“Would you like the political reasons, the economic, the moral, or the irrational?â€
“A summary, if you would be so kind,†Harvey said dryly.
“A summary? All right,†Areuhat paused for a moment to think. “They believe that we are an unstable force of change in the world. They are too attached to their rules and their systems and we fit into none of that. They think we’re terrorists.â€
Harvey exclaimed, “But we’re not terrorists! Terrorists enforce their doctrine with terror; with threats of violence! We just declared a peaceful and bloodless independence.†Areuhat narrowed her eyes until Harvey remembered where he was. “Oh, yeah, the Omen. Well that’s more of an implied threat, subtle thing really.â€
“Subtle. The Omen.â€
“Bah!†Harvey bahed. “It’s not important. Clearly they’re not going to leave on their own. It’s a miracle hostilities haven’t broken out before now. But I can’t build a new nation with a hostile armada surrounding it, threatening to destroy everything we believe in whenever they feel the whim. Our position is strong, our allies are here for us, and the Omen is in about as good of a shape as it’s ever going to be in. Nickleson! To the bridge!†The last words were spoken into a communicator.
“What are you doing?†Areuhat asked suspiciously.
“I’m preparing to broadcast a message telling all hostile forces to begin preparations to leave the area immediately, less they be declared enemies of Nelaga and her allies and threatened with destruction.â€
“You’re going to give them notification that we’re going to attack them? I highly disapprove. If you want to start a war, we should make the first move without warning.â€
“Yes, I figured you would say something like that,†Harvey said cooly. “However, there is a reason that I’m leading this campaign, not you. I happen to be an honorable man. This is my last attempt to avoid bloodshed. If it fails, well, that's why we spent so much time fixing up this Omen.â€
“In my experience, honor is an elaborate set of constraints designed only to perform a meaningless suicide.â€
“Thank you for your input. We’ll send the message as soon as the camera crew is ready.â€
Summary: largely backstory on the Omen, a few event that I probably should have made into larger post but didn’t, and a summary of who is on who’s side and why best I can figure it out. The FIoJ Fist, still hovering above the ruins of Jasonia Palace near Sai’Por, broadcasts a message demanding that all hostile forces leave immediately.
Even Nickleson had toned down his apocalyptic protests. They were no longer “almost certain to be burned alive when this whole thing goes up in a flame you could see from the moonâ€, nor “absolute madmen for even considering the possibility of taking this blasted thing against even a something that could fling a random rock.†He still “highly disapproved of all this†and thought that “the whole thing is very foolish,†but considering the alternative that was almost a sign of encouragement.
Almost immediately after their broadcast of the Nelagan independence, King Andreas himself of Novatainia had, by way of their militia contacts on the ground, contacted Harvey on the Omen. He scheduled a meeting with Harvey aboard the gravship to discuss what the Nelagan independence from Novatainia would mean. This was pretty much the make or break point for the revolution and had everyone fussing trying to clean up and look suitably presentable to a King. Andreas hadn’t given them much time to sweat, having arrived via shuttle in less than an hour despite having traveled all the way from Novatica. Their meeting had been short but extremely fruitful. While the Novatainians did not believe they could support an immediate lands transfer via the MCS for political reasons, they were wholeheartedly behind the Nelagan cause and would commit considerably force to ensuring its safety and sent a team of engineers to help with the repairs of the Omen immediately. Their steadfast support was almost suspicious in its size, but Harvey was not about to look a gift mylittlepony in the mouth.
After a few attempts to get Bob Robinson to help with the repairs, mostly involving idealism and bribery but occasionally mixing in a few vague threats, eventually they’d given up on him and released him the nearby city of Sai’Por. Rumor has it he had gone straight to Colonel Vilhelm and resigned his post on the spot. Nobody had heard from him since. It was probably for the best that he taken a new direction in his life as the previous clearly wasn't doing him much good.
As one man left the Omen, hundreds more came on board. The automatic subsystems were nice, but in most cases they were nothing compared to having real human hands and brains on sight. The Omen and its crew had many needs that needed to be filled personally. All in all they’d estimated the crew of the omen to require about 950 men; a far cry from its full compliment in the golden days, but more than sufficient to run things as it was. The Nelaga militia was trained for this role, but after Novatainia declared their public support for the Nelagan independence the request for men had been extended to the locals in the research centers and even to the Novatainian homeland. A few weeks of hasty reorganization later, the crew was about half and half.
At home, the new Nelaga Territories country was doing somewhat well. A capital city had been chosen at Nova Kajar and that small research base had seen a massive surge of growth in the past weeks. A flag had been created by a local man and had been swiftly chosen and went into production; many cities already had at least a couple flying high with pride and the Omen was scheduled to get some for their own use in the next few days. There was already talk of a constitution being drafted. Things were looking pretty okay for the young country.
There was just one lingering problem.
“That’s a whole lot of military force out there,†Harvey remarked from the Bridge of the FIoJ Fist Omen-class Gravship. In front of him was a full map of the territory with known military force distribution. It was not an uncluttered map.
“Yes, it is,†agreed Areuhat.
And it was. True to their king’s promise, Novatainia had both called their allies at Nova England and Kagon conToketi and deployed considerably military might of their own to the area. Many parts and coasts of Nelaga were defended by allied forces by now. The Republic of Antica had also deployed several peacekeeping forces to the area to stop the conflict but, in a move most failed to anticipate, formally pledged those forces towards defending the Nelagan claim to existence. As far as friends went, thankfully Nelaga did not stand alone.
But nor did they stand unopposed. Maraguo and their parent country of Batavia steadfastly refused the Nelagan claims to the island chain and were fully prepared not to let them go down without a fight. Natopia and Lovely had joined their cause on the general principle of not letting upstarts like Nelaga get their way in the world. Shireroth, predictably, had been too involved in one of its endless civil disputes to sent the full might of their army but had reorganized some detached forces from the Gascon arena into what appeared to be a formidable fighting force. The Hyperboreans, who had been expected to stay neutral if not outright support the Nelagan cause, had inexplicitly chosen to side against them; their legendary Opal airships, likely filled to the brim with fighting Paladins, were already on the way. Perhaps most frustratingly, someone had hired a large number of mercenaries (no one was fessing up, but signs pointed also to Shireroth) under the command of the notorious Exteme. Those were bound to be a problem.
“We’re too evenly matched,†Harvey said with a bit exasperation. “I don’t care much for even fights. In fact, I don’t really care much for fights in general. Our message was one of peace and hope, not violence.â€
Areuhat said, “Many nations have responded to that message and come to aid us and ensure it does not fade away.â€
Glancing back at the crowded military display, Harvey said, “And yet, others have come to snuff it out of the world. Why do they do this? By what right?â€
“Would you like the political reasons, the economic, the moral, or the irrational?â€
“A summary, if you would be so kind,†Harvey said dryly.
“A summary? All right,†Areuhat paused for a moment to think. “They believe that we are an unstable force of change in the world. They are too attached to their rules and their systems and we fit into none of that. They think we’re terrorists.â€
Harvey exclaimed, “But we’re not terrorists! Terrorists enforce their doctrine with terror; with threats of violence! We just declared a peaceful and bloodless independence.†Areuhat narrowed her eyes until Harvey remembered where he was. “Oh, yeah, the Omen. Well that’s more of an implied threat, subtle thing really.â€
“Subtle. The Omen.â€
“Bah!†Harvey bahed. “It’s not important. Clearly they’re not going to leave on their own. It’s a miracle hostilities haven’t broken out before now. But I can’t build a new nation with a hostile armada surrounding it, threatening to destroy everything we believe in whenever they feel the whim. Our position is strong, our allies are here for us, and the Omen is in about as good of a shape as it’s ever going to be in. Nickleson! To the bridge!†The last words were spoken into a communicator.
“What are you doing?†Areuhat asked suspiciously.
“I’m preparing to broadcast a message telling all hostile forces to begin preparations to leave the area immediately, less they be declared enemies of Nelaga and her allies and threatened with destruction.â€
“You’re going to give them notification that we’re going to attack them? I highly disapprove. If you want to start a war, we should make the first move without warning.â€
“Yes, I figured you would say something like that,†Harvey said cooly. “However, there is a reason that I’m leading this campaign, not you. I happen to be an honorable man. This is my last attempt to avoid bloodshed. If it fails, well, that's why we spent so much time fixing up this Omen.â€
“In my experience, honor is an elaborate set of constraints designed only to perform a meaningless suicide.â€
“Thank you for your input. We’ll send the message as soon as the camera crew is ready.â€
Summary: largely backstory on the Omen, a few event that I probably should have made into larger post but didn’t, and a summary of who is on who’s side and why best I can figure it out. The FIoJ Fist, still hovering above the ruins of Jasonia Palace near Sai’Por, broadcasts a message demanding that all hostile forces leave immediately.
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Re: Official War Thread
Mel'Kat and Andreas conferred in Bryden.
"Our opponents forces are massing, but slowly," Mel'Kat observed. "Shireroth is divided in opinion, and the controversy around the Duchy of MAS can only aid us."
"And Batavie have only dispatched one division yet, though NISB suspect more are coming," Andreas added. "Reports are ... sketchy, but we believe it's stationed in Enhasa. That is their capital, after all."
"And the Natopians have yet to be seen," Mel'Kat added. "Now is the time to strike."
"Mel'Kat, a vicious strike isn't what you normally suggest," Andreas said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Has the training war changed your opinion that much?"
"I did not say vicious," Mel'Kat replied calmly. "Now, when our enemy is weakest, is the best time to take land and get dug in. A bloodless victory is easiest if there is no one to oppose you."
"True," Andreas said. "Where do you suggest striking?"
"Nang," Mel'Kat said. "Those two islands are in the very middle of our operation, and, as has already been shown, a mercenary can fly from them to anywhere on Nelaga with ease. Remove that, and the western sea is ours. Antica can come up virtually unhindered from their icy abode down near Mar Sara (I doubt the Shirithians will raise a force from there), and with luck, we can then cut Enhasa off from the rest of the islands. Even better, we will have another functional port in which to house our new allies, when their ships arrive."
"And our intel does suggest no forces currently on Nang," Andreas mused. "Alright, we move. I'll send a message to Prodigy to request some more ground support on our spare carrier. I'll have to stay here to deal with the politics ..."
"Of course," Mel'Kat replied. "I'll make straight for Nang, and remove any resistance I find there. Peacefully, of course." It barely needed to be said - Melangians were a calm race, by nature. "I'll then try to secure the rest of the island and the one above, working upwards," Mel'Kat continued. "Hopefully we have some more ground support by then - our own marines won't be enough to take everything, I expect."
"Sounds like a plan," Andreas said. "Let's hope it works."
Summary: Andreas' forces set off from Bryden to Nang (hopefully some of Prodigy's forces will come too). Intel [ie starting locations in orbats] suggest there are no military forces on the island. They'll work to secure the island and remove all Batavian military personnel, and then go onto the island above.
"Our opponents forces are massing, but slowly," Mel'Kat observed. "Shireroth is divided in opinion, and the controversy around the Duchy of MAS can only aid us."
"And Batavie have only dispatched one division yet, though NISB suspect more are coming," Andreas added. "Reports are ... sketchy, but we believe it's stationed in Enhasa. That is their capital, after all."
"And the Natopians have yet to be seen," Mel'Kat added. "Now is the time to strike."
"Mel'Kat, a vicious strike isn't what you normally suggest," Andreas said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Has the training war changed your opinion that much?"
"I did not say vicious," Mel'Kat replied calmly. "Now, when our enemy is weakest, is the best time to take land and get dug in. A bloodless victory is easiest if there is no one to oppose you."
"True," Andreas said. "Where do you suggest striking?"
"Nang," Mel'Kat said. "Those two islands are in the very middle of our operation, and, as has already been shown, a mercenary can fly from them to anywhere on Nelaga with ease. Remove that, and the western sea is ours. Antica can come up virtually unhindered from their icy abode down near Mar Sara (I doubt the Shirithians will raise a force from there), and with luck, we can then cut Enhasa off from the rest of the islands. Even better, we will have another functional port in which to house our new allies, when their ships arrive."
"And our intel does suggest no forces currently on Nang," Andreas mused. "Alright, we move. I'll send a message to Prodigy to request some more ground support on our spare carrier. I'll have to stay here to deal with the politics ..."
"Of course," Mel'Kat replied. "I'll make straight for Nang, and remove any resistance I find there. Peacefully, of course." It barely needed to be said - Melangians were a calm race, by nature. "I'll then try to secure the rest of the island and the one above, working upwards," Mel'Kat continued. "Hopefully we have some more ground support by then - our own marines won't be enough to take everything, I expect."
"Sounds like a plan," Andreas said. "Let's hope it works."
Summary: Andreas' forces set off from Bryden to Nang (hopefully some of Prodigy's forces will come too). Intel [ie starting locations in orbats] suggest there are no military forces on the island. They'll work to secure the island and remove all Batavian military personnel, and then go onto the island above.
Andreas
"He showed up three or four years ago and accidentally took over the micronational world by being way more competent and enthusiastic than everyone else. Now he sort of rules us all, but it's a benevolent sort of thing, as far as we know."
~Scott Alexander
"He showed up three or four years ago and accidentally took over the micronational world by being way more competent and enthusiastic than everyone else. Now he sort of rules us all, but it's a benevolent sort of thing, as far as we know."
~Scott Alexander
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- Joined: Mon Sep 24, 2007 10:32 pm
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Re: Official War Thread
SUMMARY: Sending the Blood Raptors, the Dogs of War, and the two Aries class stealth destroyers to help Andreas out. Sending a plea to Nargoth for more naval support. Rest of the troops no mentioned remain in Bryden.Prodigy received the message, confused. He immediately sent one back:
Andreas,
While I'm glad you have a solid plan already in planning, Korstokk is leading the Tokian Expeditionary Forces in Jasonia. Send this message on to him, and I'm sure he'll help.
Signed,
King Boris Serov ronToketi VI
~~~~~~~~~
Andreas looked at the message. "Whoops."
~~~~~~~~~
Korstokk looked up from the table with his commanding officers as the tent flap opened. The messanger arrived, panting.
"I delivered this to King Prodigy, first, but King Andreas made a mistake. This is for you." The out of breath man handed the envelope to Korstokk, and stumbled off toward the nearest available alcohol.
Korstokk read the letter. "Well, looks like we have our first assignment. Andreas needs ground support to capture these isles, here," the general told the gathered officers, pointing to the map on the table. "I will take the Blood Raptors, the Satyrs, and half the Kensai to these islands post-haste. Lucas, you bring the Dogs of War, the Kidneyshot and the Dropkick for support. Send this message on to Nargoth; he has a large number of submarines under his command I hear. He should help."
Prodigy Almighty, Executor of Chelkran Kesh
Baron of Absentia, Count of Western Absentia
"Denken ist schwer, darum urteilen die Meisten." - Carl Jung
Baron of Absentia, Count of Western Absentia
"Denken ist schwer, darum urteilen die Meisten." - Carl Jung
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- Joined: Sat Jan 03, 2009 1:42 pm
Re: Official War Thread
summary: just back story, a brief motivational speech, and deployment to Sai’PorStanding atop the Cride capitol building, Longbow looked down at the citizens of the city. A feeling of pride strayed into his heart as he surveyed the crowd, knowing that this city and its inhabitants had been through hell and back multiple times. Some of them had done that quite literally unfortunately. Taking a deep breath, Longbow began.
"Scalziin of Cride! Our brothers in Novatainia have been wronged on their soil! Tonight we leave to avenge this wrong. To defend our closest ally in what may be the biggest war this race has seen! Tonight we march across the pole, to the other side of the world! Tonight we begin our quest to show these people that the metal of Cride is as cold as the ice we live among. Tonight we will rise!" A roar swept among the the assembled masses, the sound tearing through the ears of all those assembled. Raising one fist into the air, Longbow gave his army the signal to load up and move out. Mistaking it for something else, the civilians all imitated the gesture, forming a sea of fists below his eyes. "Yes." Longbow whispered. "It is time."
A booming voice rang out in the city., just as the troops began to get settled in. "Ready the troops, and give me a channel with that thing!" "Prepare to fire on my command" "Hold your fire, we don't know if it's friendly or hostile." "Has anybody got me a channel with this thing yet?" Longbow sighed, staring at the distant craft intently.
"Cool your jets, its friendly." Then to to craft, "Hold your fire, we're friendly. Good to see you and that thing on our side. Care to join me in a conference? I have something I think you would like to see." Longbow allowed a grin to cross his face as he looked at the lawn gnome at his side. "I think you'll appreciate the humor."
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Re: Official War Thread
Cerune Russell, sister to Greg Russell, the rebellious count who had just broken away from Yardistan in Shireroth, was leaning forward on the rail at the back of the lead transport, smoking a cigarette, watching the clouds lazily drift by. It had been a long time since she had been mentally fit enough to lead a military outfit into battle. Her bouts with mental illness had cost her a promising career in the Shirerithian armed forces, and very nearly her freedom. If not for the shady (and timely) actions of her brother Greg and her mentor, Aggy, she'd be in jail right now, or a mental hospital. That's why she was on this transport headed to New Kajar, you see, she was a wanted criminal back in Shireroth. Her actions in the Descendi cult affair made her a fugitive when she blew up an old apartment building back in the Duchy of Elwynn. Big mistake, and one she constantly regretted. Though he had helped her escape from Elwynn with her life, he had not agreed upon her leading a whole division to Nelaga initially (which in and of itself was an illegal act since Shireroth was siding against Nelaga). His extremely valid point about her going from one warzone to another didn't stop her from insisting on leading the charge. In his mind, it was foolish, but it was more than a fight to her, this was her chance for redemption. Her chance to balance out the bad karma by doing something good. She hoped.
"Nelaga's in sight, general!" the boat captain cried out to Cerune, "Not long now." She turned around and spoke, "Stay on course for New Kajar, captain." He nodded and spoke up again. "Do they even have a port? Or are we going to have to make this a far more wet landing?" Cerune shook her head, "I wasn't told if they do or not. The intel I was given wasn't really all that good. I'm just waiting for a call from Harvey, or from Nick, their CinC. They'll let us know where to dig in." The captain jerked his head upwards and sighed, "And what happens if we run out of water before then?" Cerune made an exacerbated face, "We won't." The captain 'humphed' and turned around, grumbling at the sloppy affair THIS was turning out to be.
Cerune looked downward and pulled out her satellite phone. "Come on..."
Summary: backstory and deployment to New Kajar.
"Nelaga's in sight, general!" the boat captain cried out to Cerune, "Not long now." She turned around and spoke, "Stay on course for New Kajar, captain." He nodded and spoke up again. "Do they even have a port? Or are we going to have to make this a far more wet landing?" Cerune shook her head, "I wasn't told if they do or not. The intel I was given wasn't really all that good. I'm just waiting for a call from Harvey, or from Nick, their CinC. They'll let us know where to dig in." The captain jerked his head upwards and sighed, "And what happens if we run out of water before then?" Cerune made an exacerbated face, "We won't." The captain 'humphed' and turned around, grumbling at the sloppy affair THIS was turning out to be.
Cerune looked downward and pulled out her satellite phone. "Come on..."
Summary: backstory and deployment to New Kajar.
Re: Official War Thread
The tavern door swung open, bathing the room in light. The bartender looked up from the cups he was drying and watched as two Antican naval officers walked through the door. He leaned on the bar that ran the length of the establishment, sneered, and went back to drying. The door slowly creaked closed behind the officers, once again settling the room into its post-dawn darkness.
The two officers stopped, removed their caps, and looked around the tavern. As their eyes started to adjust to the darkness, they could make out a man sitting at the far end of the bar, slouched over and drinking something. As they moved closer, they recognized the tattered blue uniform with faded red piping, the crimson stains on the sleeves, and the Mosin Nagant rifle at his side. He took a sip from the cup, put it down, and sighed. They halted, and saluted. "Admiral's compliments, sir. You're to report to the communications station immediately."
The slouched man grunted. "It's about that damned Nalgene thing, isn't it?"
The men looked at each other, then back at the man. "Nelagan, sir. And yes. I'm afraid it looks like..."
The man cut them off. "Afraid? Being afraid is the other guy's job. And ours is to give him a damned good reason to be so."
The officers stiffened. "Very good, sir. If you'll come with us, we'll patch you through to the admiral."
The slouched man sighed. "Best damn tea in the whole of Antican Suryo, this is. Used to be a decent place in the market, but some damned fool blew it up. And I was just getting to the good part, too." He slapped a few bills on the bar, rose, hitched up his sword, slung his rifle on his shoulder, and made his way to the door. He glanced at the bartender. "Hey Oshman, pack some of that tea in a crate for me, will ya?"
The bartender smiled. "Anything for my best customer!"
The man burst through the door onto the brightly lit street, squinting as the sunlight hit him. Two men in similar blue uniforms were jogging down the street towards him. He smiled as they came to a stop in front of him. "Good morning Mr. Hipser! I see we've already had our exercise for the day?"
Hipser saluted. "Yes sir. We only just got the signal. Carter here had a devil of a time repairing those antennas the locals sabotaged."
Carter snapped to attention. "Commander Foghorn sir! An honor!"
Foghorn looked him over and smiled. "A fine specimen. New recruit, Lieutenant?"
Hipser smiled. "Well, they don't make them like they used to, but he'll do. Now, we'd better get to the communications tent. You know the Admiral, he gets cranky when we keep him waiting."
The group walked into the communications tent a few minutes later, just in time to hear a tinny voice shout "I don't care if he's sipping the last tea in all of Nafticon! Get him on the line NOW!"
Foghorn grabbed the microphone from the communications officer who was sitting in front of the radio. "Now now, that's disrespectful to the tea."
The voice subsided, and returned sounding much relieved. "Commander Foghorn, I hear Antican Suryo is under control?"
Foghorn laughed. "Admiral Chris, about as controlled as a sack full of cats. But I take it you're not calling about the situation here, are you?"
"No, I'm not" Chris replied. "The situation in Nelaga has deteriorated. Babkhan and Shirerithian troops are about to move in. We need to deploy your force immediately. What's your troop status?"
Foghorn glanced at the chart on the wall. "Fully restocked, rested, and ready to go. 1st Battalion is here with me, and 2nd Battalion is back at OOB-1."
"Very good. Your force will be redeployed by air, and 2nd Battalion will be hopping a ride with the main force of the First Carrier Group. How long until your forces are mobilized?"
Foghorn scratched his head. "I'd say 6 hours for 1st Battalion, but the alert forces in 2nd Battalion haven't stood down since the Suryo insurrection started. Charlie company will stay behind in OOB-1 with fireteams foxtrot, gulf and hotel as sniper support and SRT Cable, but everything else is ready to move."
"Very good. Ready your troops, and prepare for a hot landing. God only knows what the situation will look like when the lead really starts flying. Good luck, I'll be clear on your last"
Foghorn smiled. "Like music to a Naval Infantryman's ears. NI-1 actual out." He turned to Hipser. "You heard the man! Move your ass!"
Hipser bolted out of the tent, yelling orders to the groups of officers standing outside. Foghorn strolled out a few minutes later, just as the communications tent was coming down. He looked out towards the sunrise over the bay and watched as his troops readied themselves to be picked up. He unslung his rifle, opened the action, fed in 5 rounds one at a time, then closed the action and pulled the safety on. He slid his hand down the stock, fingering each pockmark and remembering each engagement, smiling the whole time. "Once more into the breech, old friend" he thought, as he reslung his rifle and started to walk towards the assembling troops to wait for their ride into the fray.
Summary for the ADD-addled/lazy:
Some backstory on the Naval Infantry. 1st Battalion preparing to move into position from Antican Suryo, 2nd Battalion being attached to the Antican First Carrier Group for transport.
The two officers stopped, removed their caps, and looked around the tavern. As their eyes started to adjust to the darkness, they could make out a man sitting at the far end of the bar, slouched over and drinking something. As they moved closer, they recognized the tattered blue uniform with faded red piping, the crimson stains on the sleeves, and the Mosin Nagant rifle at his side. He took a sip from the cup, put it down, and sighed. They halted, and saluted. "Admiral's compliments, sir. You're to report to the communications station immediately."
The slouched man grunted. "It's about that damned Nalgene thing, isn't it?"
The men looked at each other, then back at the man. "Nelagan, sir. And yes. I'm afraid it looks like..."
The man cut them off. "Afraid? Being afraid is the other guy's job. And ours is to give him a damned good reason to be so."
The officers stiffened. "Very good, sir. If you'll come with us, we'll patch you through to the admiral."
The slouched man sighed. "Best damn tea in the whole of Antican Suryo, this is. Used to be a decent place in the market, but some damned fool blew it up. And I was just getting to the good part, too." He slapped a few bills on the bar, rose, hitched up his sword, slung his rifle on his shoulder, and made his way to the door. He glanced at the bartender. "Hey Oshman, pack some of that tea in a crate for me, will ya?"
The bartender smiled. "Anything for my best customer!"
The man burst through the door onto the brightly lit street, squinting as the sunlight hit him. Two men in similar blue uniforms were jogging down the street towards him. He smiled as they came to a stop in front of him. "Good morning Mr. Hipser! I see we've already had our exercise for the day?"
Hipser saluted. "Yes sir. We only just got the signal. Carter here had a devil of a time repairing those antennas the locals sabotaged."
Carter snapped to attention. "Commander Foghorn sir! An honor!"
Foghorn looked him over and smiled. "A fine specimen. New recruit, Lieutenant?"
Hipser smiled. "Well, they don't make them like they used to, but he'll do. Now, we'd better get to the communications tent. You know the Admiral, he gets cranky when we keep him waiting."
The group walked into the communications tent a few minutes later, just in time to hear a tinny voice shout "I don't care if he's sipping the last tea in all of Nafticon! Get him on the line NOW!"
Foghorn grabbed the microphone from the communications officer who was sitting in front of the radio. "Now now, that's disrespectful to the tea."
The voice subsided, and returned sounding much relieved. "Commander Foghorn, I hear Antican Suryo is under control?"
Foghorn laughed. "Admiral Chris, about as controlled as a sack full of cats. But I take it you're not calling about the situation here, are you?"
"No, I'm not" Chris replied. "The situation in Nelaga has deteriorated. Babkhan and Shirerithian troops are about to move in. We need to deploy your force immediately. What's your troop status?"
Foghorn glanced at the chart on the wall. "Fully restocked, rested, and ready to go. 1st Battalion is here with me, and 2nd Battalion is back at OOB-1."
"Very good. Your force will be redeployed by air, and 2nd Battalion will be hopping a ride with the main force of the First Carrier Group. How long until your forces are mobilized?"
Foghorn scratched his head. "I'd say 6 hours for 1st Battalion, but the alert forces in 2nd Battalion haven't stood down since the Suryo insurrection started. Charlie company will stay behind in OOB-1 with fireteams foxtrot, gulf and hotel as sniper support and SRT Cable, but everything else is ready to move."
"Very good. Ready your troops, and prepare for a hot landing. God only knows what the situation will look like when the lead really starts flying. Good luck, I'll be clear on your last"
Foghorn smiled. "Like music to a Naval Infantryman's ears. NI-1 actual out." He turned to Hipser. "You heard the man! Move your ass!"
Hipser bolted out of the tent, yelling orders to the groups of officers standing outside. Foghorn strolled out a few minutes later, just as the communications tent was coming down. He looked out towards the sunrise over the bay and watched as his troops readied themselves to be picked up. He unslung his rifle, opened the action, fed in 5 rounds one at a time, then closed the action and pulled the safety on. He slid his hand down the stock, fingering each pockmark and remembering each engagement, smiling the whole time. "Once more into the breech, old friend" he thought, as he reslung his rifle and started to walk towards the assembling troops to wait for their ride into the fray.
Summary for the ADD-addled/lazy:
Some backstory on the Naval Infantry. 1st Battalion preparing to move into position from Antican Suryo, 2nd Battalion being attached to the Antican First Carrier Group for transport.
- Scott Alexander
- Special Map Cartographer
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Re: Official War Thread
My name is Tephi Ara Gal Sekion. All my life I have lived on borders.
I was born on the border between Bjorngard and Amokolia. My left arm is an Amokolian citizen, but the rest of me is Shirerithian through and through. My blood too runs with two cultures, for my father was a Bjorngardsman and my mother a Hyperborean.
As a child, I had few friends. I was too much on the edge - too bookish to be a jock, too physical to be a nerd, and rejected by both sides. My mother wanted to make a scholar out of me, but my father wanted me to follow him into the militia. With some reluctance, I followed my father and went to officer school. Though I sought the Navy, it soon became clear that my calling was for the Marines, and I took my place with them between the land and the sea: yet another border.
I distinguished myself during the Amokolian Civil War until I was captured by rebel forces. I had no enmity to my captors; if you must know, I was neutral. But they had no shortage of enmity to me, and for several weeks I was beaten and tortured, partly in the hopes that I would reveal crucial information but partly as the only form of revenge possible by the partisans of a dying cause. I lost two fingers of my left hand during that ordeal; alas, their Amokolian citizenship could not save them from their countrymen. I also lost the better part of both my eyes; not enough to throw me into total blackness, but just enough that my world became a constant gray fog, a formless blend of the light and dark. In the end, I came to another border: the one between life and death.
And I was saved by my countrymen, who overran the rebel camp. I was nursed back to health in a hospital in Hyperborea, where I truly met my mother's people for the first time. For two years, unable to walk or stand up unaided, I occupied myself first by learning Braille and the Hyperborean language, then by reading all the books the doctors and nurses there could provide me with. In the end, my mother won the day: I was a scholar, one of the few foreigners who really knew Hyperborean literature.
And when I really knew all the lesser books, I tried my hand at the oldest, densest, and most revered piece of fiction in the Hyperborean canon: the Book of Two Stars. I had reached the part where Sirillis, the North Star exiled to mortality, had discovered his true identity and risen into the heavens triumphantly, while his mortal friends both celebrated his victory and mourned that they would have to continue facing the trials of human existence that he had so easily escaped. I remember Sayi's soliloquy at having first lost so much himself, and then having lost his closest friend to a quick escape that he knew would be closed to him forever. And I thought of my own condition, doomed to blindness, told I was never going to walk again. As my finger moved over the pages, I read it aloud:
I could have been a star, as you were
I could have sought the last horizon
A sailor on cerulean oceans
I could have sung celestial music
A brightness in a world of brightness
Incognizant of earthly toil
Instead, I lie here, facing skyward
And watch as gold dawn fades to blue dawn
Another day of work and weeping...
I could have been a star, as you were!
And as I recited the last line, as sincerely as I'd ever said anything in my life, I heard a voice. It said, "You might be, still." And that was when I found myself on the longest and most dangerous border of all...
The Luminescence hovered in the air above the city of Nang, ready to shoot off at a moment's notice. What other countries did with wealth and resources, Hyperborea did with time. It had taken their small island economy three decades to construct the super-airship, but time was a commodity the three-millennium old island had in abundance. The flip-side, however, was that they tended to be very protective of some of their larger toys. It wouldn't do to lose an airship that would take thirty years to replace. And everyone was still uncertain of the capabilities of the big Omen Gravship hovering over Mt. Sai'Por. So the orders from Tala had been clear: use Wind and Lightning Units as troop transports and mobile bases, but don't under any circumstances let them anywhere near the fighting. As soon as that gravship gave any signs of stirring, all four airships would go into full retreat mode. For now, they maintained a wary vigil as the last few soldiers and supplies were unloaded from their huge bellies.
In the center of Luminescence, around a long rectangular table, sat Tephi Ara Gal Sekion and his council of war. Tephi himself sat alone at the head of the table. Along the right side of the table sat, in order, the commanders of Lightning, Wind, Olive, Grape, and Apple units, the Shirekeep attache, and Raiki Volanion, the mercenary captain who had reluctantly been absorbed into the Hyperborean forces. Directly opposite Tephi, at the other end, sat Tephi's seven year old daughter Nele, who never left her father's presence and wasn't going to start now. The seven seats on the left side of the table were empty, and always had been. The arrangement was Tephi's, it was one of his many idiosyncrasies, and none of the seven commanders had any thought of contradicting him.
General Scussion, the representative from Shirekeep, began.
"I have received a report from the men in military intelligence," said Scussion. "One of the spy satellites shows that a joint Novatainian / Toketan army from Bryden is approaching Nang. About ten thousand enemy infantry are moving towards our position."
Everyone started trying to talk at once. Tephi sighed, a long deep sigh like a hurricane wind.
"Tephi-nomai," said Tiethi, "the two ground units are almost completely unloaded, and will be ready for battle within a few hours. We can fortify the city and hold off the Novatainians indefinitely. As long as they don't get any force multiplier like air support, we should be fine.
"About that," said Tephi. "I've received word that kajisakyo Extreme is joining the battle on our side. He will arrive here shortly. If we can hold out until he comes, no doubt he will have a plan that will assure us victory.
One of the generals whistled. The regiment of ex-Karnalis had developed a legend over the years, especially in Hyperborea, where memories ran deep. There had been Hyperboreans aboard Nik Raesin's ships the day the Extremes had almost annhilated the squadron. It had been that engagement which had earned their commander the title of kajisakyo, Destroyer of Worlds.
"I'm placing Grape on the west of the city, and Apple on the east," Tephi continued. "Olive stays with the airships as always. If the Maraguans have any men here, we'll keep them as backup."
"Nelaga isn't just a hole in the ground!" interjected Nele.
"What have I told you about interrupting us?" Tephi asked his daughter. Then he continued: "Raiki, we'll need your men to do the scouting. Don't put yourself in any unnecessary danger, but I want to know as much as possible about the contents of that force before they make it over here."
"Yes, sir," said Raiki, though the particular Kalasperelin word he used for "sir" was just impolite enough to show what he really thought. Tephi ignored him.
"Are you sure it's wise," asked Tiethi, "to hand a whole corner of the city over to Apple?"
"I would say yes," said Tephi, "but I'll let Aere speak for herself." Then he nearly jumped out of his seat with surprise, as if hit by a bolt of lightning. The others stared at him, uncertain. He managed to regain his composure after a second, and the commanders dismissed it as just one of the strange things the strange blind general did from time to time.
Finally, Aere Inestion, commander of Apple, spoke. "Do not think our vow against killing makes us weak. Our principles make us more, not less, resolute in resisting evil. A non-lethal weapon can stop a man just as quickly as a lethal one can. You've already seen what the quicksand foam can do, and then there are the dart guns, the zap guns, and all the other lovely stuff we're still lowering off of the Goodness and the Holiness. I make you this challenge: when the battle is over, Apple will have earned a greater share of the glory than your Grape.
"I don't need my units competing against each other," said Tephi, who secretly was quite pleased with it. Then: "I want you in place by gold dusk tonight. Run through a drill, then give some extra rest." Inexplicably, he blushed.
"That's too many," pouted Nele. "I don't want anyone to die."
Luckily, Tephi's last request sounded like a dismissal. The seven commanders all bowed, said the necessary formalities, and then filed out of the room. Tephi's daughter freaked them out a little, and to be honest the whole room had a strange crackle in the air, as if there were things going on just oustide the range of their perception.
When everyone had left, Tephi turned to his daughter. "What did you think of that," he asked?
"I like Apple," she said. "And I want to meet Extreme."
"No," said Tephi. "I mean the other half."
Summary: LOTS of backstory. The Hyperborean forces are in Nang. Andreas, I see how you could have missed it, but if you read the Day of the Eagle story closely, it should become clear (Raiki escapes and returns to Nang and Tephi meets him there). Or we can just assume they made it there while your army was still marching in. They will be defending the city until Extreme can arrive in the theater, when they hope to coordinate plans with him.The part of Tephi Ara Gal Sekion on the other side of the Border rubbed the spots where his eyes should have been and prepared for the council.
They were sitting around a long rectangular table. Tephi alone sat at the head of the table. Along the left side of the table sat, in order, Mors the God of Death, Lukedu the God of Destruction, Loki the God of Chaos, Ifni, the Goddess of Luck, Meskan, the God of Enlightenment, Sakat, the God of Time, and Vivantia, the Goddess of Life. Directly opposite Tephi, at the other end, sat Tephi's seven year old daughter Nele, who never left her father's presence and wasn't going to start now. The seven seats on the right side of the table were empty, and always had been. The arrangement was Tephi's, it was one of his many idiosyncrasies, and the gods were too busy with their own affairs to worry over it.
"The crows will be eating well this year," said Mors, to no one in particular.
"There aren't any crows this far south," said Vivantia, his ex-wife "as you would know if you had any interest in living things other than their destruction."
"I was being poetic," said Mors, "as you would know if you knew any poetry beyond the chirping of birds, or whatever it is you..."
Tephi sighed, a long deep sigh like a hurricane wind.
"The game-pieces are all in place," said Lukedu. "The armies of three nations stand upon this island, and the ships of half a dozen more circle the seas around us. Fighter planes more numerous than bees buzz above them, ready to honor us with explosions the likes of which the world has never seen."
"To honor me" corrected Meskan.
"Yes," giggled Loki, "you do seem to have an overwhelming advantage going into this, don't you?"
Ifni smiled. "The race does not always go to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, my dear."
"But it goes to them a hell of a lot more often than to the slow and weak," said Lukedu.
Sakat just scowled. "I still protest this ridiculous plot. Those islands are mine."
"Ah, but you know the old Yardistani saying," said Loki. "What's mine is mine, what's yours is negotiable."
"I still think," said Sakat to Mors, "that you erred in even allowing Enlightenment to contest the matter. Now any hole in the ground can be seized by any god who wants it whenever the urge strikes him?"
"Nelaga isn't just a hole in the ground!" interjected Nele.
"What have I told you about interrupting us?" Tephi asked his daughter.
"Oh, let the girl be," said Vivantia, who ruffled Nele's hair. "Anyway," she said more darkly, "Sakat is right. This little game of yours is going to get however many untold thousands of people killed."
"Forty nine thousand, seven hundred, sixty six," said Mors, after a moment's thought. "Including three of the humans in this room."
Tephi nearly jumped out of his seat with surprise, as if hit by a bolt of lightning. Three of us in this room? Who? I swear, if you touch a hair on he...
"That," said Mors, "is not given for you to know. You know too much already, even for what you are."
"You are a monster," said Vivantia to Mors.
"You understand nothing," said Mors to Vivantia. "And at least this mortal wants not to be ignorant."
Ifni licked her lips; she was a beautiful goddess, and though Tephi was an old man, he blushed when her eyes fell on him. "No one may die or everyone may die. The God of Death may have his plans, but humans are not the most predictable of creatures, and the vagaries of Fortune may yet overwhelm even Him."
"Ha," said Mors. "Forty nine thousand, seven hundred, sixty six. You just watch."
"That's too many," pouted Nele. "I don't want anyone to die."
Vivantia touched her again. "Out of the mouths of babes," she said. "Why these louts here insist on solving every problem with a genocide is anyone's guess. I'm getting out of here." She vanished with a pop, dissolving into a cloud of flowers and the scent of springtime.
Mors stood. "Your wishes are immaterial," he said. "The wheel of life turns, and men and nations are both renewed by fire. Enlightenment and Time have challenged each other, and the game shall be played with human lives. Such is the tradition, and so will it be done. I have forced no men to participate against their will, but those who participate put themselves under My power. Mortal, do you accept?"
I accept for all of us, half-spoke Tephi.
"Of course," said Mors. He vanished into a cloud of darkness, and the other gods followed, leaving behind only a faint electric tingle.
Tephi turned to his daughter. "What did you think of that," he asked?
Scott Alexander | Autokrator of Archipelago (What is Archipelago?)
Illustrious Founder of the MCS, and sometime Special Cartographer
Illustrious Founder of the MCS, and sometime Special Cartographer
- Lord_Montague
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- Joined: Tue Sep 18, 2007 2:39 pm
Re: Official War Thread
"Sir, we're receiving a message from the Gravship." reported the Communications Officer aboard HMLS Spexico. He had walked into the first Captains Conference convened by Hastings in the course of the war though he had no doubt there would be more to come. The Communications officer handed over the slip of paper which the message had been transcribed upon.
"Relay the message to Home and have them send our reply; We are not in the warzone and have no intention of entering the area." ordered Hastings in his usual quiet and polite manner. The assembled Captains were slightly puzzled by the reply, none more so than his wife and Captain of HMLS Hood Rear Admiral Emily Packard-Hastings. The previous half hour of discussions had all been about how to fight the Novatainian Fleets in the region before approaching Antican and Nova English forces could turn the tide.
"What do you mean? I thought we were committed to fighting this war." said Emily.
"We are but it won't make any sense for us to sacrifice our fleet destroying the Novatainian naval formations and risk attack from any airpower or long distance land weapons they have in the region. Striking targets elsewhere might be more beneficial to us." reasoned Hastings to his spouse. The remainder of the Captains looked on, not sure whether the argument could turn into a marital dispute or not. Not was the answer as Emily nodded in agreement.
"Flight Captain Andrews, put up two of your JSF and have a Hawkeye constantly in the air. Relay their radar readouts to the command centre aboard Spexico. Captains Maud, Koles, Hailsbury and Roberts have your helicopters do ASW sweeps. Inform HMLS Ireland and HMLS Gibraltar to sail these locations. Hopefully that'll keep the enemy busy." ordered Hastings with a slight smile at the end.
Summary:
The Kingdom of Lovely Fleet is still sailing east and will be in the area on the war map in a day's time (though it won't stay there long I will admit).
It has formed up into a battle formation with Jon Bond in the middle.
HMLS Ireland and HMLS Gibraltar are set to sail to secret locations to be given to Vilhelm.
Fleet is on alert with a pair of JSFs and an early warning plane in the air at all times along with ASW helicopters performing submarine sweeps around the perimeter.
"Relay the message to Home and have them send our reply; We are not in the warzone and have no intention of entering the area." ordered Hastings in his usual quiet and polite manner. The assembled Captains were slightly puzzled by the reply, none more so than his wife and Captain of HMLS Hood Rear Admiral Emily Packard-Hastings. The previous half hour of discussions had all been about how to fight the Novatainian Fleets in the region before approaching Antican and Nova English forces could turn the tide.
"What do you mean? I thought we were committed to fighting this war." said Emily.
"We are but it won't make any sense for us to sacrifice our fleet destroying the Novatainian naval formations and risk attack from any airpower or long distance land weapons they have in the region. Striking targets elsewhere might be more beneficial to us." reasoned Hastings to his spouse. The remainder of the Captains looked on, not sure whether the argument could turn into a marital dispute or not. Not was the answer as Emily nodded in agreement.
"Flight Captain Andrews, put up two of your JSF and have a Hawkeye constantly in the air. Relay their radar readouts to the command centre aboard Spexico. Captains Maud, Koles, Hailsbury and Roberts have your helicopters do ASW sweeps. Inform HMLS Ireland and HMLS Gibraltar to sail these locations. Hopefully that'll keep the enemy busy." ordered Hastings with a slight smile at the end.
Summary:
The Kingdom of Lovely Fleet is still sailing east and will be in the area on the war map in a day's time (though it won't stay there long I will admit).
It has formed up into a battle formation with Jon Bond in the middle.
HMLS Ireland and HMLS Gibraltar are set to sail to secret locations to be given to Vilhelm.
Fleet is on alert with a pair of JSFs and an early warning plane in the air at all times along with ASW helicopters performing submarine sweeps around the perimeter.
In Battle; Unbeatable.
In Victory; Unbearable.
In Victory; Unbearable.
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- Posts: 37
- Joined: Thu Dec 25, 2008 11:06 am
- Location: Davignon, Dietsland, Batavia
Re: Official War Thread
"What can I do for you?" Maximilian asked Jonas when he called him this evening. "Aha, I see. Well, I think there is only one thing we can do if what you say is true. Are you sure that Nang is taken by hostile forces?" Jonas told Max, that he was pretty sure. In fact, he'd seen it happen in front of his very eyes. Max immediately drove off for Irrel military base in Dietsland.
"Luitenant van Dijk!" Max spoke to him, when he arrived in Irrel. "Immediately mobilize the Vliegende Hert division. I have just one command for them: get to Point Victor as fast as you can! The fighters situated on the Z.M. Vermeylen will join you later." As Max drove away for Zeesluys, he could see the figthers and bombers flying away. South they headed.
"Commander Vandereijck!" Max was yelling at this moment. The urgence of the matter made the situation more and more ehh... urging. "Send out the 3rd and 4th Vermeylen Division, immediately! I will command the Vliegende Hert Division from the Z.M. Vermeylen. Make sure the ICBMs on the Z.M. Alfons II and the Z.M. de Bourbon are stand by. We will sail out in two hours from now. Now give me the commander of the fighters, situated on the Z.M. Vermeylen."
"Sir?" Commander Janssen, the commander of the fighters on the Z.M. Vermeylen, asked. "I need you to fly to Point Victor, all five of you!" The reply was clear: "Yes, Sir!"
"Sir?" Commander Vandereijck asked. "Yes?" Max said. "What are we going to do?" was the reply from Vandereijck. "We will sail of to Maraguo and then make contact with Jonas again."
Summary: Batavia sends planes to Point Victor. The fleet will be near Maraguo in one day. The ICBMs are in position.
"Luitenant van Dijk!" Max spoke to him, when he arrived in Irrel. "Immediately mobilize the Vliegende Hert division. I have just one command for them: get to Point Victor as fast as you can! The fighters situated on the Z.M. Vermeylen will join you later." As Max drove away for Zeesluys, he could see the figthers and bombers flying away. South they headed.
"Commander Vandereijck!" Max was yelling at this moment. The urgence of the matter made the situation more and more ehh... urging. "Send out the 3rd and 4th Vermeylen Division, immediately! I will command the Vliegende Hert Division from the Z.M. Vermeylen. Make sure the ICBMs on the Z.M. Alfons II and the Z.M. de Bourbon are stand by. We will sail out in two hours from now. Now give me the commander of the fighters, situated on the Z.M. Vermeylen."
"Sir?" Commander Janssen, the commander of the fighters on the Z.M. Vermeylen, asked. "I need you to fly to Point Victor, all five of you!" The reply was clear: "Yes, Sir!"
"Sir?" Commander Vandereijck asked. "Yes?" Max said. "What are we going to do?" was the reply from Vandereijck. "We will sail of to Maraguo and then make contact with Jonas again."
Summary: Batavia sends planes to Point Victor. The fleet will be near Maraguo in one day. The ICBMs are in position.
Prime-Minister of Batavia
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- Posts: 5024
- Joined: Sun Jun 24, 2007 8:34 pm
- Location: Novatainia
- Contact:
Re: Official War Thread
EDIT: Post declared null as new information came to light about the exact make up of the islands. A similiar but updated one follows later in this thread.
OOC: Scott, I knew one or two mercenaries are there, I didn't realise the rest had already arrived. Oh well. Beautiful story work, btw, though I'm still unsure who Sakat is fighting for ...
Summary: Darn, why couldn't it have been Babkhans. I'd have no trouble bombing them into oblivion, but I don't want to do that to Hyperboreans. Oh well. My forces secure the northern, undefended island, and then the rest land on the northern tip of Nang's island, to establish a beachhead and unload in safety.
OOC: Scott, I knew one or two mercenaries are there, I didn't realise the rest had already arrived. Oh well. Beautiful story work, btw, though I'm still unsure who Sakat is fighting for ...
"New intel, commander," said a Novatainian aide, running up to Mel'Kat. Mel'Kat was sitting at his table, quietly reading History of the Jaris War - Uncut Version. He nodded at the aide but didn't say anything, and continued reading. The aide looked at him nervously for a few seconds before Mel'Kat quietly turned the page, put in a bookmarket, and closed the book. "Never rush a good book," Mel'Kat said, as he put it down. The aide, whom Mel'Kat did not recall seeing before (but then, most of the low level crew changed over each voyage, what with promotions and all), still looked nervous, so Mel'Kat asked, "The intel, if I may?"
"Of course, sir," the aide said, trying to salute and hand the paper over at the same time, and failing. When Mel'Kat had recovered the paper he read it, and handed it back. "Have them open a line to commander Korstokk," he told the aide, and got up, with a sigh. This would not be as easy as some had thought. But then, making history never was.
"Korstokk here," came the voice on the other line.
"It appears we underestimated our enemies," Mel'Kat said. "There are over ten thousand Hyperborean Marines stationed at Nang, along with several dozen vehicles which would best be described as flying bicycles armed with a machine gun."
"Any missiles?" Korstokk asked.
"Apparently not," Mel'Kat replied. "However, having fought alongside Hyperboreans before, I'd prefer not treating them like fish in a barrel."
"It's your funeral," Korstokk grunted.
"I've ordered a change of route. My forces will drop a number of soldiers off on the island above, to secure that location. The rest of our forces will proceed to the top of Nang's island, where we can hopefully make a safe landing. My forces will establish a beach head on the north of the island from which we can make further moves. You know your own soldiers best - I leave it up to you to decide how best to deal with the Paladin presence. If all else fails, there is air-support around. But be fast. Babkhan Mercenaries are due to arrive in a day or two."
"I think I know how to handle these paladins," Korstokk replied, and Mel'Kat closed the line.
"Well, at least we get one island fine," the aide replied, with a half smile. Mel'Kat just stared at him until he stopped.
Summary: Darn, why couldn't it have been Babkhans. I'd have no trouble bombing them into oblivion, but I don't want to do that to Hyperboreans. Oh well. My forces secure the northern, undefended island, and then the rest land on the northern tip of Nang's island, to establish a beachhead and unload in safety.
Last edited by Andreas the Wise on Wed Jan 07, 2009 1:50 am, edited 1 time in total.
Andreas
"He showed up three or four years ago and accidentally took over the micronational world by being way more competent and enthusiastic than everyone else. Now he sort of rules us all, but it's a benevolent sort of thing, as far as we know."
~Scott Alexander
"He showed up three or four years ago and accidentally took over the micronational world by being way more competent and enthusiastic than everyone else. Now he sort of rules us all, but it's a benevolent sort of thing, as far as we know."
~Scott Alexander
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- Posts: 232
- Joined: Tue Jul 03, 2007 10:16 pm
- Location: Newcastle-Upon-Eastmoor, Nova England.
- Contact:
Re: Official War Thread
Summary: General Back-story for one of the Privates onboard HMNS Cafi....Private Cynfield looked out towards the ocean, miles upon miles of God given Sea. The salt-water sprayed unto the ship and into Cynfield’s lungs as he inhaled the sea air. He turned back towards the ship intercom system as news from the Brotherhood of the Holy Lance was broadcast around the ship.
‘This is Master Ioseph of the 1st Battalion of the Brethren! God has denied us the chance to fight in this most honourable war but he gives our strength to you. For today the sea pounds your ships and tomorrow the mechanisms of the enemy shall pound the ships.
But you will be fighting them!
For they will be given no mercy!
The lord has spoken and requested we help the people of old regain their power as we smash the might of those that seek to oppose us!
The angles shall rain down fire unto the homes of our enemy and we shall join the fray!
So go forth my Brethren and thrust the Sword of God into the hearts of our enemy!
Honour! Fatherland! War!’ Cried the voice over the intercom.
The Private turned back towards the ocean after listen to the third Brotherhood announcement of the day. It was a sure sign that the war was close and that much death was to follow in the days to come. Cynfield thought back to the days of old when he had only the worries of helping his father run their small Southern Burwood farm. But like all Nova English citizens after he finished his heavily military influenced Secondary education he quickly joined the military. He was soon to reach the King’s Legion after proving himself against the SLA in the County Surtland and upon the Warring Islands. A keen example of a Son of the Fatherland that would willingly go forth and fight to the death in the hope that his homeland would be honoured and protected.
Cynfield threw his cigarette into the great ocean and moved on, his rifle on his back and his other hand already searching for another cigarette. The Brotherhood message repeated itself though this time in East Moorland English and Cynfield carried walking towards one of the doors. Deodatus almost swung the heavy door into Cynfield by accident and the Colonel bent down to pick the Private up.
‘Careful there boy...We need to make sure all of you are fighting fit!’ Said the Colonel as he puffed away on his pipe.
‘Of Course....Basted’ He replied muttering the latter part under his breath.
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- Posts: 2925
- Joined: Sun Jun 24, 2007 3:27 pm
Re: Official War Thread
No time for backstory, will produce more later.
Summary: SCMC St Helena has picked up all refugees from Point Vincent, now sailing onwards towards Nang, red cross of neutrality still flying high.
Summary: SCMC St Helena has picked up all refugees from Point Vincent, now sailing onwards towards Nang, red cross of neutrality still flying high.
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- Posts: 537
- Joined: Tue Dec 30, 2008 8:26 pm
Re: Official War Thread
BOOOOM!
BANG BANG!
*panting noise*
*gun clicks*
BANG!
"You are dead."
GAME OVER - read the message on the screen. Captain John Bordor threw his video game controller at the television, narrowly missing the screen. He was just not good at first person shooters. 'Not cut out for army' is what his father used to tell him. Though, when it came to the open seas he was a beast. Calmly, he walked out of his cabin and towards the control room.
The latest news was that a war was going to break out on some islands in the far west. Most of the big players were taking part in it. There were a notable exceptions though. Stomark was absent and so was Alexandria. Perhaps, there military might had died down as time went by. Perhaps, they just didn't care about what happened to these parts of the world, even though it was all happening in Alexandria's backwaters. Whatever the case, they were absent from this war. But that didn't concern John or his crew. John came from a time when the biggest player in the world existed on Micras - The Grand Commonwealth. Then had come the big event, the big choice that every person on Micras had to make. To stay on Micras or to leave to a new world. Almost all of Grand Commonwealth had chosen to move. Except John and a few others, who called themselves the Extremists.
"Captain on Deck" shouted one of the men. The others quickly saluted and almost instantly went back to work. One of them ran up to John.
"We should be meeting up with the rest of the task force in four hours." he said.
"Good. Keep me informed." John smiled as he looked around the room and spotted a miniature model of X-3. The X-3 was his destroyer. One of the best, most advanced destroyers in the world it claimed and quite rightly so. Similar destroyers were being built by other nations now thanks to the effectiveness of this ship class. John then looked over at the men. All were busy working. That was good. That was what they were trained for and here for. That was what they were getting paid for as well. And paid very well.
Summary:
The entire task force is going to meet up within four hours at a point (will pass to judge).
Names of the destroyers are: X-1, X-2, X-3 and X-4.
Carrier will be referred to as: X-1000
Virginia class submarines will be: X-100, X-101
Seawolf class submarines will be: X-200, X-201
Ohio class submarines will be: X-300
All other non-ship units (like aircrafts, troops and ground units) are on the carrier.
BANG BANG!
*panting noise*
*gun clicks*
BANG!
"You are dead."
GAME OVER - read the message on the screen. Captain John Bordor threw his video game controller at the television, narrowly missing the screen. He was just not good at first person shooters. 'Not cut out for army' is what his father used to tell him. Though, when it came to the open seas he was a beast. Calmly, he walked out of his cabin and towards the control room.
The latest news was that a war was going to break out on some islands in the far west. Most of the big players were taking part in it. There were a notable exceptions though. Stomark was absent and so was Alexandria. Perhaps, there military might had died down as time went by. Perhaps, they just didn't care about what happened to these parts of the world, even though it was all happening in Alexandria's backwaters. Whatever the case, they were absent from this war. But that didn't concern John or his crew. John came from a time when the biggest player in the world existed on Micras - The Grand Commonwealth. Then had come the big event, the big choice that every person on Micras had to make. To stay on Micras or to leave to a new world. Almost all of Grand Commonwealth had chosen to move. Except John and a few others, who called themselves the Extremists.
"Captain on Deck" shouted one of the men. The others quickly saluted and almost instantly went back to work. One of them ran up to John.
"We should be meeting up with the rest of the task force in four hours." he said.
"Good. Keep me informed." John smiled as he looked around the room and spotted a miniature model of X-3. The X-3 was his destroyer. One of the best, most advanced destroyers in the world it claimed and quite rightly so. Similar destroyers were being built by other nations now thanks to the effectiveness of this ship class. John then looked over at the men. All were busy working. That was good. That was what they were trained for and here for. That was what they were getting paid for as well. And paid very well.
Summary:
The entire task force is going to meet up within four hours at a point (will pass to judge).
Names of the destroyers are: X-1, X-2, X-3 and X-4.
Carrier will be referred to as: X-1000
Virginia class submarines will be: X-100, X-101
Seawolf class submarines will be: X-200, X-201
Ohio class submarines will be: X-300
All other non-ship units (like aircrafts, troops and ground units) are on the carrier.