09-21-2020, 02:50 AM
September 12
7:00 am XST
Zapotlán
Crown Prince Texōccoatl stood on the deck of the Tenautla, the destroyer he had chosen as his personal command ship for what he had named Operation Quetzalcoatl. Quetzalcoatl was the Huenyan god of justice. It seemed like a fitting title for what was unfolding.
Around his ship, the Xiomeran loyalist fleet, the Legionite Third Fleet and the Eirian fleet under Admiral Circè were arrayed in a series of defensive perimeters. In between those ships and the Tenautla, there were landing craft. Many, many landing craft. The Xiomeran factories in Kerlile, and a few shipyards in Milintica, had been quite busy in the lead-up to the invasion. The landing craft were of Xiomeran design, but not as good quality as a Xiomeran factory would have produced, Brigadier General Tlanexchel had noted privately to the Crown Prince with a slight bit of good, old-fashioned Xiomeran arrogance.
Texōccoatl had reminded Tlanexchel that the landing craft didn’t need to be great quality, or last forever, as a Xiomeran product might. They just had to work and last long enough to complete the landing. Besides, in the short timeframe the loyalist forces had prior to Zapotlán, making so many ships was pretty impressive in and of itself.
Over the flotilla, there were also many aircraft. Many, many aircraft. Xiomeran, Eirian and Legionite, they were the air cover and striking power of the operation. The Crown Prince greatly appreciated them being there. But, being an Army man, he still firmly believed that the matter of who would lead Xiomera would be decided on the ground. In the clash of steel, lead, flesh and blood. The Crown Prince was ready to lead that fight. He had been waiting in Laeral long enough.
The Crown Prince and Tlanexchel were both clad in full Xiomeran battle rattle. They had no intention of sitting on the sidelines. Once the operation truly began, they would be in the thick of it.
—-
On the Zapotlán shoreline, alarms began to ring out within the series of defenses on the shoreline. General Quihualqui, the commander of the Zapotlán defenses, did two things. First, he made a calm but urgent call to Tlālacuetztla, to alert General Zinahue and Army Command Headquarters.
Then, he ordered his men and women to prepare for battle. He was a Xochiuhue loyalist, and had no intention of surrendering the Neck of Huenya without a fight.
Throughout the series of bunkers, fortifications and defensive positions, Imperial soldiers leapt into position, and waited.
They would not have to wait long.
As the ships of loyalist Xiomera and its allies reached the shore, the small Imperial naval detachment at Zapotlán made a valiant effort to stop them. It was valiant, but that did not mean it was wise. It also did not mean that it had any chance to succeed, as they were vastly outnumbered. Xochiuhue had positioned most of the Imperial Navy’s remaining strength far away from Zapotlán, in the places where he had thought the invasion would happen.
As the tiny Imperial Navy detachment exchanged fire with the loyalist and allied ships, the landing craft began reaching the shore. They began delivering their deadly cargo. 15,000 Kerlian soldiers. 5,000 Eirians. 5,000 Legionites. 1,000 Milintican volunteers. And with them, 18,000 Huenyans determined to liberate their homeland. They weren’t all Xiomeran: some of them were Necatli, others Itotemoc and Tepiltzin, or from Manauia Island. They were different in their origins, but united in one cause: to see to it that Xochiuhue and his plans for Empire were crushed.
As the allied soldiers hit the beach, they soon found that whatever the feelings about their “Emperor” other Xiomeran soldiers may have had, the ones at Zapotlán weren’t sympathetic to the loyalist cause. They were also outnumbered: only 15,000 Imperial soldiers were at Zapotlán. But like their Imperial Navy counterparts, the Imperial soldiers just didn’t believe in running away. Artillery, missiles and gunfire began raining down onto the advancing allied soldiers, plowing into them like the drops of a heavy rain. This rain, however, was deadly.
It wasn’t just the soldiers on the ground facing the onslaught. In the air, the allied planes soon found themselves facing fighters from the air bases around Zapotlán. Anti-air missiles also began streaking into the air, their trails filling the sky. And on the water, the allied ships found themselves facing Xiomera’s newest weapon. The XM-350-M missile, dubbed the “shipkiller” by the Xiomeran media, was capable of sinking even a capital ship from a long distance. Their mobile batteries were arranged well away from Zapotlán, under screening air cover. As Texōccoatl and Tlanexchel watched, one of the missiles slammed into the cruiser Tahuema, turning its bridge into a fireball.
The fight for Zapotlán - and for Xiomera - had truly begun.
7:00 am XST
Zapotlán
Crown Prince Texōccoatl stood on the deck of the Tenautla, the destroyer he had chosen as his personal command ship for what he had named Operation Quetzalcoatl. Quetzalcoatl was the Huenyan god of justice. It seemed like a fitting title for what was unfolding.
Around his ship, the Xiomeran loyalist fleet, the Legionite Third Fleet and the Eirian fleet under Admiral Circè were arrayed in a series of defensive perimeters. In between those ships and the Tenautla, there were landing craft. Many, many landing craft. The Xiomeran factories in Kerlile, and a few shipyards in Milintica, had been quite busy in the lead-up to the invasion. The landing craft were of Xiomeran design, but not as good quality as a Xiomeran factory would have produced, Brigadier General Tlanexchel had noted privately to the Crown Prince with a slight bit of good, old-fashioned Xiomeran arrogance.
Texōccoatl had reminded Tlanexchel that the landing craft didn’t need to be great quality, or last forever, as a Xiomeran product might. They just had to work and last long enough to complete the landing. Besides, in the short timeframe the loyalist forces had prior to Zapotlán, making so many ships was pretty impressive in and of itself.
Over the flotilla, there were also many aircraft. Many, many aircraft. Xiomeran, Eirian and Legionite, they were the air cover and striking power of the operation. The Crown Prince greatly appreciated them being there. But, being an Army man, he still firmly believed that the matter of who would lead Xiomera would be decided on the ground. In the clash of steel, lead, flesh and blood. The Crown Prince was ready to lead that fight. He had been waiting in Laeral long enough.
The Crown Prince and Tlanexchel were both clad in full Xiomeran battle rattle. They had no intention of sitting on the sidelines. Once the operation truly began, they would be in the thick of it.
—-
On the Zapotlán shoreline, alarms began to ring out within the series of defenses on the shoreline. General Quihualqui, the commander of the Zapotlán defenses, did two things. First, he made a calm but urgent call to Tlālacuetztla, to alert General Zinahue and Army Command Headquarters.
Then, he ordered his men and women to prepare for battle. He was a Xochiuhue loyalist, and had no intention of surrendering the Neck of Huenya without a fight.
Throughout the series of bunkers, fortifications and defensive positions, Imperial soldiers leapt into position, and waited.
They would not have to wait long.
As the ships of loyalist Xiomera and its allies reached the shore, the small Imperial naval detachment at Zapotlán made a valiant effort to stop them. It was valiant, but that did not mean it was wise. It also did not mean that it had any chance to succeed, as they were vastly outnumbered. Xochiuhue had positioned most of the Imperial Navy’s remaining strength far away from Zapotlán, in the places where he had thought the invasion would happen.
As the tiny Imperial Navy detachment exchanged fire with the loyalist and allied ships, the landing craft began reaching the shore. They began delivering their deadly cargo. 15,000 Kerlian soldiers. 5,000 Eirians. 5,000 Legionites. 1,000 Milintican volunteers. And with them, 18,000 Huenyans determined to liberate their homeland. They weren’t all Xiomeran: some of them were Necatli, others Itotemoc and Tepiltzin, or from Manauia Island. They were different in their origins, but united in one cause: to see to it that Xochiuhue and his plans for Empire were crushed.
As the allied soldiers hit the beach, they soon found that whatever the feelings about their “Emperor” other Xiomeran soldiers may have had, the ones at Zapotlán weren’t sympathetic to the loyalist cause. They were also outnumbered: only 15,000 Imperial soldiers were at Zapotlán. But like their Imperial Navy counterparts, the Imperial soldiers just didn’t believe in running away. Artillery, missiles and gunfire began raining down onto the advancing allied soldiers, plowing into them like the drops of a heavy rain. This rain, however, was deadly.
It wasn’t just the soldiers on the ground facing the onslaught. In the air, the allied planes soon found themselves facing fighters from the air bases around Zapotlán. Anti-air missiles also began streaking into the air, their trails filling the sky. And on the water, the allied ships found themselves facing Xiomera’s newest weapon. The XM-350-M missile, dubbed the “shipkiller” by the Xiomeran media, was capable of sinking even a capital ship from a long distance. Their mobile batteries were arranged well away from Zapotlán, under screening air cover. As Texōccoatl and Tlanexchel watched, one of the missiles slammed into the cruiser Tahuema, turning its bridge into a fireball.
The fight for Zapotlán - and for Xiomera - had truly begun.
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