A Battle Unseen

[hyraemous]

Somewhere in Etxea, April 5637

It was here. 

And hundreds of thousands were about to fight it.

While Keita burns under constant bombardment and while the soldiers on all sides began a massive assault for the city, on the scale of Aethansk long ago, there was another fight about to begin.

Tiberius Claudius Nero stood before the men and women that, years ago, he was President of. Them, and hundreds of thousands more, will be crossing the Jildrath Strait and likely die for a reunified Kundrati. He spoke to his soldiers, it was a short speech, but it was to impress upon these boys and girls about the upcoming battle.

Ladies and gentlemen.

Soldiers.

You will be crossing that strait shortly. Some of you will die in that attempt. Some of you will die once you land. Some of you will die after you land. None of you will die in vain. Two and a half million people are looking to you and your colleagues. When we are finished here, we will either have reunified our families across the strait or we will all be dead by Lazar's hand. You don't want the latter, neither do I. Surviving months long bombardment has proven that.

I will be commanding you and your foreign colleagues with my colleagues from Hutori, Davostag, Kalistan and more. It will be a long road ahead. It will be a bloody one. Expect the enemy to attempt to destroy you physically and mentally. You will come back to your families a changed people, either in a box or wanting to be in one. But I will be with you. Your families will be with you. And the world will be with you.

When you fight, remember that you are fighting your own. The ones who wear the Legionary armband are saying we are traitors and that we deserve nothing more than death and destruction. Their actions prove it. You, however, will be fighting northwesterner savages who never belonged on our nation. Those people are the ones wearing the armbands and praising Lazar endlessly. But you will be cordial and win the hearts and minds of the rest and show them there is a better life beyond Lazar's grip.

Respect your command no matter their origin. They share our belief. They want all of us to win.

Let us fight. Glory to Kundrati.

And thus Tiberius Claudius Nero left the podium. At once, the soldiers began to enter their boats. Similar scenes were repeated throughout the island. Hundreds of thousands of people with one goal - destroy the Legion - stepping on board these boats and beginning their journey north. They were joined by tens of thousands of Kalistani militia which were also under the command of the Kundrati Union.

These boats would not be heading to Keita. They would be headed a fair bit east of the city, away from the action. The plan was to establish a second beachhead and encourage the Legio to move troops away from Keita. At the same time, a small group of airplanes from the Kundrati Union Air Force (25 IRL Panavia Tornado aircraft) launched on their way to bombard Keita and the upcoming beachhead in tow.

The journey for the boats will be long. The journey for the aircraft will be short. Yet the risks were extreme. Everyone knew it...

...yet it had to happen.

Thus was the start of Operation Albatross.

[vesica]

Battle of Ketia, April 17th, 5637

Private First Class Mason Kerr kicked in the half-splintered door and rolled into the room, his H8A3 rifle up, heart pounding against his ribs like a drum gone mad.

The air was thick with smoke and burnt plastic. Somewhere a woman screamed, sharp and short, and the crack-crack-crack of gunfire echoed off the broken concrete bones of Ketia.
Kerr’s squad, battered and dust-smeared, spilled in behind him, weapons scanning, nerves razor-wire tight. The city was a goddamn maze — every alley a killbox, every window a whisper of death.

But they were making ground. Inch by goddamn inch. “Clear!” Kerr barked, and his team echoed it, voices harsh and clipped.

He knelt by the broken frame of a window, eyes scanning the smoking street outside, his breath coming hard through his respirator. A pair of Leopard 2H7Es clattered past, turret guns swiveling side to side like angry gods looking for something to punish. Across the ruined plaza, movement. Not Kundrati — no. Kerr felt it before he knew it: the hard, clean movements of allies. A squad of Davostager Coastal Rangers swept through the rubble, their slate-grey battle fatigues smeared with the same dirt and blood as his own. They moved low, tight, fast — professionals. A different flag, but the same look in the eyes: men who knew what it meant to kill, and what it meant to lose friends.

“Coastal Rangers!” someone shouted from Kerr’s squad.

A breathless, honest grin tugged at his face under the sweat and dirt. He pushed out into the open, weapon up but loose, and met them mid-street under the crumbling remains of what used to be a schoolhouse. Their sergeant, tall, blonde, eyes like polished steel, clapped Kerr on the shoulder so hard he nearly staggered.

“You fucking Hutorians take your sweet time!” the Davostager barked, voice rough with smoke and laughter.

Kerr laughed, quick and sharp, clapping him right back. “We’re here to save your sorry asses!”

The Davostagers roared with laughter, even as mortars thudded in the distance. Old enemies once, so very long ago. Back when Davostag and Hutori had clashed in places Kerr only read about in history. But that was dead and buried. Now, side by side. Brothers in all but blood.

“We’re pushing east!” Kerr shouted over the thunder, jabbing a thumb down a narrow alley choked with debris. “Supposed to cut ‘em off at the square!”

The Coastal Ranger sergeant, Anders, Kerr caught the name tag, nodded sharply. “We’ll cover your left! Stack and move!”

No hesitation. No questions. Just trust. Like they'd been fighting together for a lifetime. Kerr motioned his squad forward, heart hammering, sweat slick under his body armor. He could feel Anders’ men flanking them, rifles barking short controlled bursts, clearing windows and side streets with brutal precision. Every step forward was a small victory over fear, over memory, over the ache that said maybe they wouldn’t make it. In the corner of his eye, Kerr saw a Davostager gunner yank a wounded Hutorian corporal out of a collapsed shopfront, slinging the smaller man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, bullets sparking off the broken pavement around him. Brotherhood wasn’t about treaties or papers. It was about shit like that.

"Go!" Kerr bellowed, voice raw, waving his fireteam through a blasted-out storefront. His boots crunched over broken glass and charred children's toys.

They cleared another block, then another. The map burned in his brain: Saint Genevieve Square dead ahead. A machine gun chattered from a rooftop — Kundrati. Close. Kerr dropped flat behind a burnt-out car as rounds chewed the air overhead. And then — an explosion! A Coastal Ranger, cool as hell, lobbed a grenade into a second-story window. A half-second later, the whole building belched smoke and flame, the machine gun falling blessedly silent. Kerr scrambled up, grinning like a madman. He found Anders already sprinting past him, waving his men forward.

“Come on, Hutorian!” Anders roared, laughing, “Slow bastards don’t win wars!”

Kerr whooped and charged after him, the street a blur of motion and gunfire and heart. They hit Saint Genevieve Square like a hammer, crashing through the Kundrati defenders who hadn't even had time to regroup. Side by side. Old enemies, new brothers. Carving a piece of hell out of Ketia, one bloody step at a time.

[Dredd]

[Ketia, April 20th, 5637]

Yariv had been holding the same block in this forsaken city for 3 days, they had eaten most of their rations and water was running dangerously low, the men prayed for rainfall to at least drink the drippings from the pipes and streets. He gnawed on a piece of starch bar and swigged some of the last water to dry his parched mouth. Him and another 8 men were in the 3rd story of an old apartment building, the shelling had blasted most of the houses around him as the concrete jungle of rubble was fought for in every street. Snipers, pill boxes, booby traps, they were doing all they could, and the single hope they hung onto was of the relief efforts coming from the north. They'd asked to be relieved by reserves multiple times, but the best they could hope for if anything were Legionary peoples guard. old men, reservists, or young boys from the sladek youth who had only a few weeks or a month of training many of whom couldn't be relied on when the bullets began flying, but the order came from high command, "Fight to the last man, show the enemy no mercy for you will receive none, Hail Lazar!"

Yariv was turned from his reflecting as a volley of artillery blasted around him as thick smoke filled the air, his comrade shouting, "Enemy movements down the street, make ready!"

Yariv rushed to the windows filled with sandbags and bricks and looked as he saw APCS, a tank, and a few dozen men working their way up the street building by building ready to strafe the windows and anything that moved. The two men next to him were retirees, probably veterans from the civil war, white knuckling their assault rifles, as a couple young boys in the back were smiling giddily betting each other who could kill a Luthorian first, but from the look of the binoculars Yariv gritted his teeth as he saw insignia of Hutorian marines. Yariv wasn't a fool, these men were professionals and miles above the militia who fought only out of fear or to defend their families in the city to evacuate or live, the legion showed the film reels about the enemy, they'd be tortured if captured or at best shot in the head, their wives and daughters brutally abused. Yariv motioned for an RPG and loaded a tandem round, and began taking aim at the tank ahead as a few other soldiers grabbed rifle grenades.

Slowly advancing...wait for it....

Yariv fired the tandem round hitting the Hutorian tank in the front of the turret, he had hoped it would have been completely knocked out, but was still happy to see the barrel bent sideways and black smoke burning around the impact as a crewman jumped out and the tank coax machine guns began wildly firing. His comrades began firing a tripoded heavy machine gun and firing whatever they could at the infantry and APCS. A few were killed outright but once they realized where the fire had come from, Yariv and his comrades were poured upon by a hail of machinegun fire from vehicle and infantry both, barely able to peek through the windows and fire ports. One of the boys yelped and began screaming as his 4 of his fingers were ripped from a hand, one of the older men was already laid on the floor missing half his head. An series of explosions striking the walls send bricks and dust cascading around them as L-AT rang their ear drums, the enemy infantry was rushing forward.

Yariv in a daze got up yelling to the others but couldn't hear his own voice, only a couple of them his fellows from his original squad, real soldiers, saw him waving his hands. He pointed to the stairwell as they could only hope to fight a desperate defense for the interior, booby trapped and barb wired. Yariv held one stairwell as Dmitri guarded the larger one with Ruslan. Yariv's hearing began to come back a bit as sweat beaded down his forehead as he sat unblinking gazing down the dark stairs, an explosion rang out and soon came screaming, at least one of the tripwires was triggered he thought mind racing, heart pounding. He saw flashlights coming closer and closer, before finally one began nearly blinding him as he shot full auto into the stairwell, receiving fire back as panicked voices yelled in a language he didn't understand. For the next 8 minutes grenades and full auto fire were traded back and forth as some of the militia found some courage to at least fire aimlessly down toward the enemy. 8 minutes they held, until a grenade spinning off the wall, one they couldn't catch nor dodge finally bounced toward them as he dove for cover and felt hot piercing pains all over him. His vision was red with blood going into his eyes and dust in his mouth trying to spit the soot off his tongue. He rolled over on his side as he tried to grab his sidearm but found his ring and index finger dangling by threads as his pant leg was soaked in blood. His squadmates were rushed by soldiers who pumped round after round into them before they could reload, he felt around his belt as the room was about to be rushed by soldiers and grasped a grenade holding it under his kitbag, pulling the pin and holding the latch tight. Four men rushed around him, his lungs were gurgling now, they were shouting at him pointing guns. Wordlessly his thoughts went to his life and family, his aspirations were over, his dreams of becoming a store owner like his father dashed, his fiance would be a widow, but he had the power to make at least one last choice before he met his heavenly lord. His hand relaxed, the grenade rolled on the floor as his vision blurred, he saw his chest moving as it was pumped with bullets, the men in a rush to push past each other, and then there was

Nothing.

[Doc]

Meanwhile in Jildrati, Etxea, 5637

Three loud open palm slaps were heard on the board outside of the field tent.  The space heater was barely keeping up with the cold of the night, and the Colonel hadn't had much sleep in the evening.  The Colonel slung his feet out of the sleeping bag and over the edge of the cot.  He looked around and though it was still dark, but there was plenty of light outside from the encampment.  Three more loud slaps on the board outside of the tent.  The Colonel grabbed his heavy woolen socks and started putting them on his feet.

"Entra aqui," the Colonel yelled, annoyed that he had been woken up a half hour before revilie by the boot fire watch.

A Lance Corporal entered and stood at attention.  He wore his woodland camoflague, a flak vest over that, and then a field coat over the flak vest.  He also had a duty belt on and his uniform was ironed, but not clean.  He snapped a salute smartly and the Colonel stood on his MRE box floor that barely kept out the mud.  He gave a lax salute in return.  "Que eso es, Lance Corporal?"  the Colonel asked in a heavy Suldanoran accent.

"Sir, I have been sent from the CP...  um...  I uh...  I..."

"Diga me, man."

"The Empress...  she's here."

"What Empress?" he asked, still half asleep, and rubbing his eyes.

"The Empress...  THE Empress, sir."

"Did Nathans send you down here, Lance Corporal?  Es un chiste?"

"No sir.  She's here."

"Donde es la Empreza aqui, Lance Corporal?  Is ella aqui ahora?"

"No Sir, she's..."  The Lance Corporal was interrupted by another three loud slaps on the board.

"What the hell is this?!"  the Colonel shouted.  "Come the hell in, que coño!"

The flap on the Colonel's tent opened, and a Captain stuck his head inside. and yelled authoritatively, "ATTENTION!"  The Lance Corporal was already at attention, but the Colonel rolled his eyes.  He was used to practical jokes, but he kept his sense of humor close.  These jokers were going to get everyone killed.  But the Captain held the tent flap open, and a woman walked in.  She was dressed in an olive canvas blouse with a green kevlar vest.  Her long light brown hair was tied in behind her head.  She's not military, he instantly thought.  As she stood up before the Colonel, and he read the nametag that had been hastily tacked on the kevlar, the Colonel thought "Chinga me..."

Without a change in his demeanor, the Colonel looked at the Lance Corporal and said "You're dismissed, Lance Corporal.  Thank you." and then he called out the door "Tambien Capitan."  Both of the two militia departed quickly.  Meanwhile the Colonel went to the other side of the tent, grabbed a fold up wooden field chair that was at his desk and opened it, placed it down next to the lady, and said "Madame..." as he gestured to the chair.  After she sat down, very properly, as if she had never sat on a wooden chair before, the Colonel went back to his field cot, pushed his sleeping bag toward the wall, and sat down on the rack.

A long pause, as the Empress stared at the Colonel, and he stared back at her, moderately annoyed at the early morning surprise visit.  After what was likely not more than 20 seconds, the Colonel said "What can I do for you, Your Highness?"  The Empress was not used to this sort of abruptness.  This Militia man spoke like he had no care or even really knowledge of the Protocol.  The Empress was taken aback somewhat.

"Colonel...  We..."

"Con permiso, mi Mujer, if you would, I am just a simple man.  Can we, just, entre tu y yo, speak like two normal people?  I don't want to waste your time, and I beg you not  to waste mine.  Please just tell me what you would like.  And if it helps, I am at your service."

The Empress caught her breath...  She inhaled sharply, and started.  "Ok Sir.  We can do this.  You are to be promoted."

"Madame," the Colonel said with a sig, and proceeded to explain to this kid how the milita worked.  "The Militia only goes up to Colonel.  We do not..."

"Colonel, Sir.  Can you please let me speak."  The Colonel opened his eyes.  He too was not used to some civilian talking to him like this.  He clapped his hand, and mimed zipping his mouth shut.

"You wished to speak plainly, Colonel.  But I am not in your Militia.  I am your Empress.  If we wish to speak plainly, I will ask you to speak to me respectfully."  The Colonel, reminded that even he had a chain of command, at length nodded.  "Yes Madame.  Tiene me promesa."

"As I was saying, Colonel.  It is my desire to promote you to the Brevet Rank of Regular Brigadier General.  It is our desire that you shall serve the Empire directly.  Tiene algunas preguntas, señor?"

"Yes, Madame.  Why?"

"I would prefer that my subjects be commanded by Kalistanis.  We offered the militia to the Kundrati Union to command, because we didn't want Kalistan to need to declare war.  But we also didn't want to run into a situation we had last time, where if you needed to do something that might reflect poorly upon the service, and you went ahead and did it, we would have to have you answer for it and justify your actions."

"Do you mean what I think you mean, Señora?"

"It is likely that I mean precisely what you think I mean."

"Creo que lo entiendo, Majesty."

"As a Regular General, however, whatever the Kundratis tell you, you are in a chain of command that reports to me as well.  And here's what I want you to do.  You will follow the orders of the Etxeans, of course.  But you are also to operate with a separate set of orders above this, where ever you can."

"How do you mean, Señora?"

"IBSI has informed me that you may have some misgivings about how the Militia is to be used."

"No Madame," said the Colonel.  In fact he had, but how could she possibly know?  And who are these IBSI guys she was referring to?

"Of course not, Colonel," she said, calling his bluff.  "That being the case, whenever you get the opportunity to work with Hutori, you should take it.  You know that the main strength of the Irregulars is in mobility.  You are not regular infantry:  You have trained for centuries to be a mobile force, to avoid direct confrontation, and to avoid encirclement like the plague."

"Madame, have you ever served in the Militia?"

"No Colonel.  Don't be silly."  Then, the Colonel thought, how did she confidently speak like a general or a military theorist?  "With you as a Regular Officer, your command is to finesse as much mobility out of your orders as you possibly can.  We don't have any armor here, and it could become very easy for you to lose thousands very quickly if things shift.  So at the end of the day, you are to stay as mobile as you can without directly violating orders.  No pitched battles against hardened positions, not defense of indefensible points.  You are not to allow your men and women be used as bodies the throw at these fascists."

"Señora!  That's what I was saying!" said the Colonel.  "We're meant to be on the move, we are meant to serve behind enemy lines, to break things that the enemy uses to coordinate their defense, to do counter insurgency...  Matar los enimigos, claro?  I have been saying this..."

The Empress nodded her head.  "Sir, I am already aware of this," she said.

The Colonel paused.  Of course she was. 

"I think I hear your bugler calling morning colors.  So:  in these last few moments, let me tell you.  You will want to connect up with the Hutorian officer whose name is on this piece of paper.  After you read this, get rid of this paper.  They will contact you shortly."  The Empress slipped the Colonel a piece of paper.  "Colonel, do you have the name?"

"Si Dama," said the Colonel.

"Good, now burn that."  The Empress stood up, and the Colonel reflexively stood up as well, as he would do with a commanding officer. 

"Colonel, I will leave you and will meet you once more at your formation.  After you do your head count and pass word, I will personally conduct the promotion ceremony.  Then if you would indulge me, while your troops eat chow, I would appreciate it if you would let me speak with them for a while and kind of get to know them?  I am in country to promote you in our service, but part of my goal here is to let your men and women know that we are thinking of them and are behind them.  I want to remind them that they are fighting for one reason and one reason only:  It is not to put any person into power, or to gain anything for our Empire or anyone else's.  We are not here for punishment or revenge.  We are not here to be used by others.  We are here to set the men and women of this country free.  And when you are done, you go home and we will welcome you back as heroes.  But for a lot of you, you will be buried here.  So you are fighting for freedom and you are fighting to come back home.  Is that acceptable to you Sir?"

"Madame, absolutamente," said the Colonel. 

"Very well.  I will meet you at your formation."  The Colonel snapped to attention and Threw a sharp salute.  The Empress, lowered her head to acknowledge the salute.  "General, look to your Corps..." she said as she turned, opened the tent flap and let herself out.

The Colonel cut his salute as she left.  "Si, Señora."

[Dredd]

[Legionaria, Army Headquarters Presidential Palace, May 5637]

Dragovich and his fellow generals were pacing the room wondering how they would spin the southern defeats and northern landings, their manpower was being stretched to the limit. They were just barely replacing the casualties of the standing army with mandatory reservist service, and just keeping their head above the water with the peoples guard. The militia was really only holding in the south where they had real reasons to fear reprisal, but the north..

They were not going to hold very long at all.

Lazar suddenly came into the room with two of his hulking bodyguards as he prompted a situational report, Dragovich clearing his throat began.

"Comrade, holy fury though fought valiantly could not push the enemy back, air power negated much of our armored advantage early on and our infantry were unable to dislodge enemy positions. We're regrouping all elements of the stragglers and we send in the 2nd shock army to the cities of Urdatz and Erggelekua. We are recommending a withdrawal from Papoc and Halensk as the positions there are vulnerable to a northern encirclement, we suggest prioritizing the defense of Benora which is the main route through the countryside, and the terrain is more hilly and forested which provides an easier time digging in, forming kill zones, and evading enemy air. Urdaitz and Erggelekua are the final two in Jildrath before the capital province becomes the frontline. Urdaitz is the primary goal to defend, Erggelekua is far from the front and will likely be encircled, so we're advocating a fighting retreat where the men there burn everything they can on the way out, and along with Paopoc and Halensk will blow every bridge and main road possible to buy time. This leaves us with our two main defensive targets, Urdaitz and Benora."

Lazar was silent, grimly observing as Dragovich continued the defense plans.

"Urdaitz and Benora, pop with approximate populations of 2 to 3 million, we can dedicate 200,000 standard army troops and 2 tank divisions per city, along with the projected 300,000 peoples guard in each city, we've been broadcasting alleged and some true atrocities committed by enemy forces in Keita, we believe it will prove useful in making stubborn the defenses. We've been preparing lines ahead of time since the landings, the enemy will have to bypass multi layered trench networks on the city outskirts with dozens of minefields and pre-planned chemical deployments dug underground. Our sappers have also placed hundreds of IEDS and boobytraps along the way, and are currently destroying any and all possible housing or equipment used by the enemy. Enemy air power will have a difficult time targeting the cities effectively as there's thousands of tenement buildings and some factories for cover, our soldiers are tunneling and making house to house front fortress blocks ahead of time as well, mass conscripting civilian labor has proven a big boon by digging tank ditches and aiding the efforts."

Dragovich changed the slides, "Now the most pressing matter is our northern front. We have conscripted many peoples guard but they cannot be expected to resist against a non-historical foe, but we've begun propaganda campaigns for them too, the new slogan being "Your southern brothers are fighting to the death, are you?".

Lazar chuckled, "Sensible, what reserves and options for the north then?"

Dragovich folding his hands behind his back spoke, "We have only 250,000 reservists and standing forces for the entire region, the rest in the south. We can only hope to delay and provide stiffer defense to the most vital of junctions. We've ordered destructions of every bridge, road, railway and dam to flood the regions once the enemy nears, all supply dumps unable to be evacuated are rigged to blow. We've also begun building as many fake depots and deployments as possible to give the illusion of superior forces in the area, appear strong when you are weak. Fake radio chatter and night fires of empty camps should aid this trick, we're planting as many mines as humanly possible in every predicted approach pattern, and in the routes that are unmined setting up anti tank ambushes with partisan patrols. Takozvani is the first target, and we predict a blitz attempt to the following cities of Leuansk and Luzec, we've diverted the majority of our commissars and political units to the front to ensure discipline and put into place a strict no retreat order enforceable by firing squad, we'll make examples of anyone who refuses to fight and insert any fanatics we can who do surrender with bomb vests to make the enemy hesitate to take prisoners, hopefully that will dissuade anyone who might be tempted to, to fear being shot outright more. Given Luzecs promixity to the capital we recommend diverting some of our elite reservists, namely the 1st Lirnak division, comprised of mostly former Commissariat soldiers who are ideologically trained, the Presidental Guard division will remain in Legionaria along with the NKM Brigade and other units. If the enemy breaks through anywhere too quickly, we'll deploy chemicals and bioweapons as a last ditch effort. With the majority of coalition air dedicated north we've also authorized the mass production of UAV & Drone units for recon, many of them can be equipped with explosives to harass convoys and enemy groups without adequate anti drone technology. We will update you on whatever happens comrade."

Lazar nodded lighting a 3rd cigarette, looking quite pale. "One thing, we've a significant number of former air men and naval troops without ships to fight on, I want them made into auxiliary units for ground fighting to pad out our numbers, put the fear of god into our people. I want every street lamp with hanging deserters to reinforce the fate of cowardice."

Dragovich nodded grimly, saluting as Lazar exited the room for the Politburo meeting and propaganda speech to deliver for the war effort in 2 hours.

[Doc]

Somewhere in Southern Kundrati Mainland

"Sergeant," a man whispered as he slid into a prepared ambush position.

"Yes Sir," the Sergeant whispered back to a man whose voice her knew even at the whisper level.  It was his platoon commander, Captain Styles.

"Have squads one and two report here.  I want to shift the zones of fire to that elbow right up there, you see?"  The captain pointed ahead into some brush and just beyond there a barely discernable clearing.

"Aye sir," the Sergeant reported and snapped at a Corporal, to whom he repeated the order.

"Sir," the Sergeant.  "Do we know about the size of the element coming up?"

"No the pickets aren't back.  We were expecting them an hour ago, but its possible that they had to go into shelter protocol, so we're doing this at the hip."  The Sergeant understood the Captain's change of plan.  This was an ambush, but if the enemy was bigger than expected, giving the unit just those few more minutes to escape would mean the difference between a firefight that they couldn't win, and escape.  The the Captain was putting his first two squads further up the road in a somewhat more exposed spot, giving them the trade off of time and visibility.  

Squad runners returned.  "Sup, Sergeant" the runner from squad two whispered in a hushed tone.  

"Corporal, I want you to move your squad about 450 meters north along the road and set up there.  See..." the Captain pulled out a hastily drawn topomap of the area.  "set up on this hill here, and then when the battle starts, after you take out your targets, I want you and your men to hightail it down that hill, cross this creek here and double back to the rendezvous point.  Got it?"

"Aye Sir," the runner said and then after checking to see if the coast is clear, jumped out of the makeshift CP and headed back to his squad.

"You there Lance Corporal," the Captain said.  "Are you from Squad 1?"

"Yes sir," said the Lance Corporal.

"Get back to your squad and tell them I want them set up along just here, see this treeline here," he pointed at the map.  "Your squad is gonna be the one who lights the fash up.  Take the SAW and shoot at the first big thing you see, group of men, jeep, tank, whatever.  You're kicking the fireworks off, Got me?  Also, I want you to send up one mortar, and one mortar only, and then tear your gear down and come along this angle, staying in the trees, back to the rendezvous point.  Do you understand?"

"Aye sir.  I'll pass it to the Corporal."

"Good man.  Now go.  We only have a few minutes."

"Aye Sir."  The Lance Corporal got up and went off quietly running into the brush, staying very low.

The Sergeant didn't need to ask about Squad three:  Their job was simple.  Once the battle started, they were to hit the claymores and then raise up, take one shot at any living thing they see, then vaporize.  When the gunfire started, the Sergeant would then fall back to the rendezvous point, and wait for the rest of his platoon to show up.  His militia was disciplined and would follow their commands to the letter.  It would only take them about 12 minutes from this position to doubletime back to the rendezvous point, do a quick head and ammo count and then head off into the country side.  The point of the ambush was to stop the column.  

If the units did their job, the tanks that the vanguard were guiding would not make it to their destination any time soon, but would be stuck in the forest about a quarter mile away, and the advancing troops would be stopped while they took up defensive positions for an attack that would never come.  By the time the tanks got going again, the Militia would be miles away.  The ambush would only kill a hand full of people if it was lucky, but killing wasn't the main goal.  The goal was destabilization and demoralization:  The inability to face an enemy directly wears heavily on an advancing army, and targets their will to fight.  

"If the Vanguard keeps getting shot at and loses one or two people, randomly, through well aimed single shots, or if a vehicle blows up and those same vanguards have to walk everywhere they used to be able to ride, that will take a toll on their moral," thought the Sergeant.  Oldest trick in the book...  Keep poking at their eyes, and eventually people will be too fearful to serve as eyes anymore, and then the enemy would be blind.  And falling morale spreads like a STD in a KL barracks.  Its a contagious disease.

"It won't happen today, or probably tomorrow, but when morale shatters, it will happen all at once and then people will wonder why they couldn't stop it..." he thought.  And every shot is another crack.

"You're doing great Sergeant," said the Captain.

"Sir?"

"Oh it just looked like you were thinking of the mysteries of the universe."

"Just thinking about tactics, Sir."

15 minutes passed and the first vibrations through the ground could be felt.  At first it was just a sensation.  But it soon turned into a feeling.  From the vibrations, it was a large group.  The captain handed the Sergeant a tin lid from a chewing tobacco cannister.  The Sergeant instinctively knew what to do.  He flashed three ticks in the direction of both squads, who each returned similar flashes off their own mirror finish tobacco lids.  The rumbles got more intense, and soon a low rumbling was heard down the road.

"All are in place Sir," the Sergeant reported.

"Very well," said the captain, who remained motionless, staring through binoculars at the road.  

"Here here," said the captain.  he handed the binoculars to the Sergeant.  "See there?  They're moving right there..."  Sure enough the Sergeant saw it...  Right down the road, as if they were on a sunny summer stroll and weren't at all concerned.

"Hold... hold..." the Captain whispered.  The first troops came into sight, on ready, but not on alert.  the first groups of four scouts moved swiftly down the road to the left.  then a small APC came into view, with a platoon of fascists flanking it.

"Now!  Now" the captain Whispered.  The Sergeant flashed the signal and a single shot was heard, followed by multiple shots.  The Legion forces on foot realized they were being ambushed and hit the dirt to try to get off the road.  On one side, however, they were inadvertently crawling TOWARD 3rd Squad, who held on until the Legion's APC was right in front of the claymores.  Squad 3 fired the charges, and like a wall of ball bearings and shrapnel blew right into the APC but hit the crawling Kundrati Legionaires at point blank range, doing far more damage to the troops, than to the APC.  Just then a mortar landed and hit the APC squarely, causing an explosion that delinked the treads.

As the fire from the Kundrati side intensified following KL troops throwing themselves into Cover and firing toward the general direction of the tree line, the Sergeant said, "Alright Sir, time to go..."  They crawled out of the fighting position, and joined Squad 3 as they rushed through the brush that was taller than a man's head toward the rendezvous point.  From the Militia's perspective, the battle was only a few minutes long.  But the reaction would give the units enough time to escape and meet up later.

[Doc]

Security Subcommittee Meeting, Ananto Estate, Eveari, Night

"Ladies, Gentlemen, may we call this meeting to order..." was the voice of the Chair of the Imperial Security Subcommittee, Chancellor of the Empire Sir Michael Koenig.  "We want to welcome Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Mary I Ananto to our meeting.  It is an Honor, Your Imperial Majesty, to be graced by your attendance."   The Chancellor knew the correct words to say, though he also knew that most of the people who were sitting in this room, including himself, did not want the Empress to be sitting here and overseeing them, to say nothing of the fact that the event was being held in her home, in her conference room, and under her watch.  But then, he needed to add:  "And Your Highness, Princess Margaret Ananto-DeLaurentis, we are surprised and graced by your attendance as well."  Both of the two royals sat quietly against the wall.  After a second, he proceeded.

"Ahem.  I will now quickly call roll.  Lady Waltrip."

"Present."

"Major Bonaventure,"

"Present"

"Director Sachs, of IBSI"

"Present."

"Ms. Killeen, of KalMilInCo."

"Present."

Our guest, Ms. Connie Sharpe, of KalMD."

"Present, and thank you for inviting me."

"Director Wright of Spencer STC"

"Present."

"Recording Secretary Ms. Daniels,"

"Present."

"And Chancellor Koenig, present.  That's that.  Moving on... First we need to approve the Minutes from last meeting, Ms. Daniels, if you would please.  And let's do this fast.  I have a pressing engagement in the capital, and I would hate to waste Her Imperial Majesty's time."

The meeting went into normal bureaucracy mode for a while.  Minutes and agenda were approved. Announcements were made.  Old business including Militia pensions was covered, and much of which wasn't approved was tabled once more while more studying went into it, and then came the new business.  

As the Chancellor announced New Business, he asked for reports.  With each section, the Chancellor looked at his watch.  Each representative there also grew nervous with each minute that passed, as the Empress sat directly behind the Foreign Minister and watched the whole proceeding, but did not move so much as a muscle, except every once in a while, to flick her eyes to the side at the Chancellor.

Every Section rep gave a report of their activity and the new things they were working on.  The Defense Ministry announced new drills were being planned in the Anantonese Ocean.  KalMilInCo announced that production had remained at war levels because the expended war materiel which had gone to support the Militia was being replaced, and it would take perhaps a year before stockpiles reached pre-war levels in almost every category except naval stores.  The IBSI Director asked to delay his report to the end, and the request was granted.  KalMD announced that they were partnering with KalMilInCo and naval engineers to build longer distance surface based radar to be placed on ships that would give each fleet OTH capabilities.   Spencer reported that satellite maintenance was ongoing as two geostatic satellites observing Northern Dovani and southern Seleya had experienced damage from space debris and needed to be brought back down to Terra, but replacement missions were scheduled for next month. 

By this time, the Chancellor was physically trying to hurry the meeting, and actually asked others to not ask any more questions, and they would deal with questions on Monday.  He always couched his responses in the form of "Let's not waste anymore of Her Imperial Majesty's time."  And "Let's move it along, please.  Her Imperial Majesty has had a busy day..."

Finally, it was IBSI's turn.  "Sir Koenig, and esteemed collogues.  I've asked Her Highness the Princess to speak here today.  I'm sure you were surprised to see both Lady Margaret and Her Imperial Majesty present here but, I think that The Princess has some thoughts that you would do well to hear."  The proposal to let the Princess speak was met with a low murmur.  She was, after all merely a Sophomore in college.  Of course she was doing political science, that was known, but what could she possibly say that these long serving members of the Bureaucracy didn't already know.  The Princess stood up to begin speaking, but she was pre-empted by a clearly annoyed Chancellor.

"Pardon me, Your Highness, if I may briefly.  Do you have this written down?  In perhaps the form of a term paper?  It would certainly save us all a lot of time to just get through the meeting, and perhaps read your essay later?"

The IBSI Director was taken aback, "Mr. Chancellor!  That is the Sister to the Empress you are speaking to!  This is highly inappropriate."

"I am aware of that Mr. Sachs.  But it is very unusual for our meetings to be held here, in Eveari, this late at night, and to be observed by Royals.  And one of them so...  early... in her university career."  To the Princess, he turned and smiled, "Forgive me, My Lady.  The hour and the imposition have worn my patience.  If you would please, but make it brief, we still have several items to get to tonight, and surely your day has been long already..."

The Princess tentatively stepped forward.  "Let's take a look at the facts, ladies and gentlemen.  The War is over and..."  As she begun, the Chancellor began drumming his eraser on the table, tap tap tap tap...  The other members of the group looked around at one another.  The Chancellor ran his hand through his hair, looked at his watch and let out a long sigh.

"Mr. Koenig, do you have somewhere to be right now?" came the voice hiding behind Lady Waltrip.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I did," he said annoyed for yet another interruption, not even looking up.  The other members of the council gave a somewhat audible gasp, but all remained silent.

"Then we suppose you had better go there, Sir." said the Empress in response.  She was obviously miffed, but did not let that affect her regally authoritative tone.  "Mr. Sachs, please serve as our Chair in Mr. Koenig's absence."  The Chancellor looked up and realized he was speaking to the Empress.  He had spoken to her a thousand times, and yet was so distracted he had not even realized she had spoken.  His words caught in his throat, and he immediately stood up and bowed his head.  

"No Ma'am.  That is not necessary."

"But of course it is, Mr. Koenig.  You felt the need to rudely interrupt our sister, whom we asked Mr. Sachs to invite, as her words touch our need for understanding."

Turning to the Princess, Koenig, now visibly sweating, said "Madame, it is with deep humiliation and absolute regret that I request your forgiveness.  It's just that...  Well, you see...  I kind of...  well, I kind of had a date tonight."

One second passed, then two seconds...  And then the room erupted in laughter.  Even the taciturn and usually humorless Empress was seen to crack a smile.  Everyone in the room completely lost their composure as the Chancellor, forlorn, now was sure he would never make the train back to Kaliburg in time to make the date.

The Empress, still smiling from the mirth people made at the Chancellor's expense, said "Mr. Chancellor, you are excused from the remainder of this meeting.  Mr. Sachs will take your place as we desire.  We shall see you in Eveari on Monday."

The Chancellor felt like he had just gone through a mock execution.  "Madame?" he said to the Empress.

"Go, Sir, or you will miss your train.  And do make our apologies to your partner.  We shall talk again.  Go now."  The Chancellor backed quickly out of the room, and as soon as he was through the door, he turned and ran down the hall grateful for the dismissal.  Following his departure, there was another round of laughter at the Chancellor's display, and then the Empress said, "Now, Mr. Sachs, if you please for the hour is late and we have had a long day."

IBSI Director Sachs smiled and nodded, went to the head of the table, and said, "Now, if we can all calm down, I will tell you.  Her Highness, the Princess has been training with IBSI for a year and a half.  She studies political science by day, and we are training her on policy analysis between her classes.  Her Imperial Majesty feels that it is very important to have an analyst and a theorist whose analysis she can trust is not guided by political concerns, and someone who will tell her what she needs to know candidly.  We at IBSI are professionals, but we are still under the Protocol, and what she needs is someone she can hash ideas out with on an informal and absolutely confidential level.  So she asked IBSI to take Princess Margaret in at the Bureau, and make her one of us, well, kind of half us anyway.  So without further ado, My Lady Princess Margaret, the floor is yours."

The Princess stood up once more.  "I'll be brief then:  The Yeudis were right.  Terra is entering into a period of great instability and realignment once more, and I regret to inform you, if several states have their way, this expense will all be born by Kalistan.  We can no longer count on even our closest non-Imperial friends the way we once were able to.  We have evidence that with the closing of the conflict in Kundrati, there is major realignment going on behind the scenes, and the evidence is pretty damning.  Many of the associations we have maintained to date, have in fact been entirely once sided to this point, and they are now representing more and more of a liability, while on the other hand, some new ones represent new prospects. 

"So we should prepare for that:  Kalistan finds itself in the unenviable position of being a target, and that is never a good place to be, and we are a target because some nations seem to believe they can only rise if Kalistan sinks.  And the people who are behind it are both the usual suspects, and not people we would have ever suspected until just recently.  It will be sooner than later when someone decides to try to take us off our mark--  To them that will score them points, but to us, that will represent an existential threat to our nation's security.  But this is precisely how we have to see it. 

"Any change to the status quo in the Anantonese Ocean is an existential and very real threat to Ananto and to Kalistan.  We've been the ones to ensure the security of this area for so long, and we have enjoyed local peace and security as a result.  But there are those out there, some of whom are quite close, who would look for any opportunity to deny us even that and rise at our expense.  We have some ideas who that will be, and we have some ideas how we can counter that.  But it will require a shift in everyone's thinking, with regard to missile defense, with regard to electronic warfare, with regard to propaganda and soft power, and with regard to our alliances, and even who we associate with, cooperate with, or ask to help us."

The Princess continued for 20 more minutes to outlay a comprehensive plan to secure Kalistan in its place, and to do it alone if need be.  She mentioned words like the Non Aligned Movement.  She mentioned words like Destabilization.  She mentioned words like a Missile Defense system which was controlled in Kalistan rather than in a foreign nation.  And she mentioned words like Fifth Fleet.  She finished by saying "Time to start spending the peace dividend, Ladies and Gentlemen."

The members of the committee sat rivetted to the Princess' speech and then proceeded to ask questions for another half hour.  The ideas of the Princess terrified and inspired the members of this committee.  And the Empress sat silent, watching and listening to the entire conversation.  She didn't say a word, but was far prouder of her sister than she could ever express.  At one point, Lady Waltrip looked back to see the Empress beaming with pride, and she smiled a knowing smile and nodded slightly to the Empress, who noticed and gracefully nodded in response.

[Dredd]

[Legionaria, Sladek Square, May 29th 5637]

Lazar read over his written speech he'd practiced in front of the mirror and recited a dozen times before he knew he'd deliver it to the crowd of 80,000 who'd gathered, and the millions of more who'd hear it on the radios.

"My comrades of the Legionary state, we are at an unpredicted time in our history, for many years we have struggled, starved, fought and died for our sovereign state which is now under assault by the perfidious nations of the world. When our eternal comrade Sladek who came and rose from nothing gave his life for the cause of Kundrati freedom, he died knowing we would carry on his eternal message and truth for us, for you, the new Kundrati man, that we would defy the world and strike out for ourselves a nation which would span the ages and surpass the annals of time of eternity! But alas, the world in all it satantic might, for all its perfidious and ill begotten gains wishes to place us under the bootheel of degenerate domination, to defile your children and families comes to our shores reaping death and despair in its wake, how shall we defy this foe!?"

The crowd cheers, chanting "To the death for the Legion!" with thunderous applause and cheers

"Shall we defy this foe, knowing full well that glorious death or victory waits us!?"

The crowd cheered, "Yes!!"

"Shall we, for total war, honoring our ancestors and those who died for our freedom, fight to secure a future for our people and fatherland!?"

The crowd cheered, "Yes!" In thunderous applause

"Then comrades, let us rise from the ashes of destruction and death, go forward for our fatherland, and let forth the storm to break loose!"

The crowd standing and applauding vigorously cheered, "Yes, total war!!"

The loudspeakers began glaring the national anthem as the 80,000 crowd began singing in hymn with the song, the broadcast going to millions around the country in the hope patriots everywhere would know the time for resistience and sacrifice had come, that the evil coalition on their shores would be repelled, and if they failed naught but a desolate waste would await them for their crimes, that a fatherland of the faithful would give them no rest nor reprieve, Sladek had forged this nation through iron will, Kundrati and the Legion would stand through death or dishonor.

Lazar grinned, saluted, and turned face as he walked down the stairs to the presidential palace, to speak to his generals and ensure the national propaganda would continue to be beaten into the hearts and minds of millions to fight to the death.

[Louis]

In the eyes of the Gods
El Capitolio, Distrito Real, Altea | 21:45 Hrs 

---

The air was bitter and frigid. Once again, the most important figures in Egelion meet in a quiet, cold room at the capitol. A circle of councilor surround the dark mahogany table. At its center, on the golden chair, sits the king, who brings new developments.

"My dear councilors,
I must inform you that Mondragon has negotiated well with Sato and Amudim. She has acquired our nation early blueprints that will help our Atenea Missile System. Our missile system, you may say, is adapted from the Canrillaise version. But this is where we are different from the Canrillaise. While my dear cousins integrated their system solely on defense based purposes--we shall integrate an "offensive" purpose to Atenea.

The councilors stood in silence. Not knowing what the king reffered to, Mondragon sat there with a smirk on her face.

The work ahead of us will be difficult, me dear councilors. But I must reveal, that our Atenea System will include ICBM Capabilities.

Silence in the room followed by the creaks of the wooden chairs the councilors sat on and pens writing on paper.

"Majestad---I stand confused, do we have these missiles? Or are they concepts?

Says the High Councilor Formoselle.

We have the plans, Formoselle, the foundation of it, but they are not yet made. That is a burden for us to carry. We have the tools, we have the expertise, now we must develop.

I have directed The Royal Directory in Cartablanca to immediately begin production on our new weapons. Their purpose, I do not know yet, but we know this: Egelion shall soon have the capability to defend our air, and pierce through others'. Like Soteria before, we are now under the protection and in the eyes of the gods.

The councilors stand from their seat and applaud the king's statements while he stands and looks out the window. Then silence.

We owe this to the people, my dear councilors. Long have we sat in filth while political parties squandered on our growth. But now, the world is in our view. That is all.

"Majestad." say all the councilors before they leave the room. The king stays and stares out the window, with a view of the great metropolis of Keris, soon to be a ground for global diplomacy.

[Elena1012]

A Visit to an Old Friend.
September 15th, 5638
Heros of the Revolution Cemetery, Metz-Leonid, Xsampa
------------------------
Bhutia had enjoyed his retirement. He stayed away from politics ever since that fateful day in 5625. Things have changed a lot since then. He's grown older but happier. He did his best as Premier, and now he gets to enjoy peace. No more stress. No more managing the Communist Party or the country. He gave Xsampa democracy. And he was happy with that. He could be old, and happy. He would occasionally read headlines but for the most part, he kept himself firmly away from politics. Until a few days ago. The Red Bass War ended? He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that peace was achieved properly. But he knew what he had to do. He knew someone who would love this news.

It was a cold snowy day in Metz-Leonid. Cold. Bhutia put on his coat and walked. People were living life. Children playing in the snow. Families being happy. It was refreshing to be reminded of how far Metz-Leonid has come since reconstruction. After a few minutes, he arrived at his destination. Heros of the Revolution Cemetery. He continued his walk through the cemetery until he arrived at one special gravestone. The gravestone of Gurmey Aurousseau. Bhutia stood before it and cleared his throat.

"Well... Comrade... The war is over. It's a shame you aren't here with us. Able to see how far we've gone since you held power. The war is finally over. The Red Bass War has ended. And we won. But I know you... You never wanted the war to begin with." He continued with shaky breath from the cold. "I hope that knowing this gives you more peace. It won't undo the Bargas Chenpo. But I know it's progress. I can only hope you're proud of the way Xsampa is now. The Premier... Delacroix. She reminds me of you. She has your optimism. Some even call her the New You. The New Aurousseau. I think you'd have liked her. I don't think I can still believe it. It's finally over. I wish you were here with us. I really wish you were comrade. I'm sure many other comrades feel the same. But maybe now you can rest easy. The war that was thrust unto your lap is finally over. Rest easy comrade." 

With that, he turned around and left. He made his way out of the cemetery as the snow continued to fall. He felt at peace. His entire time as Premier was in the shadow of Aurousseau. Now seeing the conclusion of the Red Bass War, it made him feel at ease. Perhaps the Xsampa he made was truly being better than he thought. As he stepped onto the bus, his thoughts clouded him with optimism. Maybe Aurousseau still had some optimism to share with Metz-Leonid, even after her death 30 years ago. Maybe Bhutia was just feeling sentimental. But he knew one thing. She would be at peace.