[Zamastan]

A COALITION FOR VULKARIA

Table Of Contents::

Coalition Forces:


The Troops Ship Out


Vulkar, Vulkaria
Upol Military Base
Saturday, January 4th, 2020, 8:20 AM

General Avery Reynolds of the Zamastanian Armed Forces stood in his headquarters in Vulkar. Situated at the Upol Military Base, he gazed over the spread maps on his war room desk. Part of him couldn’t believe so many troops were back in Vulkaria after so long, but then again, he had never left his station. Having been the head of Zamastanian command in Vulkaria since the 2017 uprising began, he had seen dozens of soldiers fall, thousands of bombs dropped, and still the Malvarian Liberation Front continued to hold ground. For Reynolds, it was about time that the troops went on the offensive.

Reynolds had been at the Zamastanian Embassy two days ago, January 2nd, 2020. He witnessed security forces rush across the city to aid the hundreds of injured after the M.L.F. bombed embassies and schools and apartment buildings. Across the IDU, thousands of people had been killed. Reynolds’ own city of Providence had been attacked. Now that President Sakzi had committed forces to the destruction of the terrorists in Vulkaria, Reynolds was in command of all Coalition operations.

“General Reynolds, are we good to go?” A deep, stern voice said over the video monitor on the wall. President Sakzi and three other men were on the television in four separate corners for the conference call before coordinating the assaults on insurgent held territories. Among those on the conference call were General Chase Lyons, who would be controlling forces from Vulkar. His contingent was set up a few buildings down on the base. The other two were Godenia Command, General Ollie Reeves, and Lacarno Command, General Bond Wolfe. Wolfe was waiting for coalition forces to meet with the Zamastanians in Lacarno.

“Ready to go, Mister President.” Reynolds said. He switched his projection on the screen to the satellite images of Freeborn, the first major city in the insurgent controlled area, only 18 miles away from Vulkar. “This is Freeborn, the first city the Coalition will target. We have a contingent of Shen and Maximusian forces ready under command to proceed with an assault.”

“What do defenses look like,” Lyons asked, “is there any change from yesterday’s positions?”

“No significant change in the troop numbers,” Reynolds stated, “however, they have moved artillery pieces into position.”

“Heavy?” questioned President Sakzi.

“Yessir,” Reynolds responded. “Rocket placements can hit Vulkar from there, and there are also howitzer models in place. Either one can hit Vulkar.”

“If they have the capability to hit Vulkar, why aren’t they?” asked Wolfe.

“It’s possible they’re waiting for the first wave of attacking forces. They’ve also set up within the city, so they don’t want to get hit by airstrikes.”

“Too dense for airstrikes?” President Sakzi quizzed, looking concerned. “I don’t want airstrikes in there in the risk of civilian casualties is too high.”

“That, and that they’ve also positioned anti-air turrets across the city too. We just don’t have determinations on their exact locations because they’re constantly moving on flatbed trucks. Any airstrike in Freeborn runs the risk of collateral damage and the loss of aircraft.”

“So,” Lyons spoke up, “ground forces will need to get rid of those artillery pieces.”

“That’s probably the move,” sighed Reynolds.

“You have green light to move,” Sakzi said, leaning back in his desk seat through the monitor. “The sooner we capture Freeborn, then we can move onto the rest of the highway. The offensive will be a lot better off once we’re moving.”

“I agree, Mister President.”

The four men signed off of the monitor, leaving General Reynolds to look over his maps again.

Elsewhere on the Base
10,000 soldiers were lined up in rows, boarding and packing trucks, tanks, helicopters, and cargo jets for the offensives soon to be underway across the nation. Lieutenant Colonel Emmett Marsh stood in front of his battalion of 500 soldiers on the tarmac, waiting with his men to board helicopters that would take them to a staging areas right outside of Freeborn. Soon, he and his men would be engaging enemy fighters in an attempt to take the city.

“Alright men,” Marsh said loudly over the sound of propellers and motors roaring, “hours from now, we will be in hostile territory. We’re in this for the long haul. We’re doing this for everyone back home. We’re doing this for everyone we’ve lost and everyone our loved ones have lost. We’re gonna give em’ some hearty pay back, am I right?”

His men snapped to attention and shouted. “Yes sir!”

“Bags up!”

The soldiers grabbed their heavy backpacks, heaved them onto their backs, picked up their rifles, and one by one, boarded the helicopters. They were angsty for a fight - the first time most of them had seen combat. Zamastanian troops had not been deployed in full force since 2005, and the 15-year long wait had made them anxious to make a name for their team: the 46th Battalion.

Once they were at the staging area, command would meet with the Maximusian Command and the Shen Battalions to establish the framework of the assault. The capture of Freeborn was essential to securing the route into the heart of M.L.F. and V.N.A. controlled areas.

Forty Minutes Later
The city of Freeborn, population 17,000, sat two miles from the staging ground, across the Amden River. As the 46th Battalion disembarked from their choppers, they could see the smoke rising over the city from where the Zamastanian airstrikes had struck earlier. The muffled and distant sounds of explosions rocked the ground for only a slight moment as additional fighter jets roared overhead. The staging ground was established. On the terraced hill overlooking the city and the river valley sat 3,000 Zamastanian soldiers. Artillery, tanks, and vehicles clogged the highway leading into the city, stopped at a checkpoint just a few hundred meters to the south of the force's position. The supply and escort convoys would wait on the road until the city was captured, and then it was only a matter of time until the Coalition could move onto the next cities.

97 Miles Southwest
North of Lacarno
Sangra Valley

A lone Zamastanian helicopter raced over the hillside and into the open, sunny air of the dusty and dry Sangra Valley, leaving a trail and cloud of dirt rushing in a spiral loop following the chopper's low-to-ground take off. On board, 10 members of the Zamastanian Special Forces Unit reequipped themselves and took time to breathe, un buckling their seat belts to prepare for the landing and disembarkation. Zamastanian intelligence had picked up a high-value-target in a small isolated farm-house south of the city of Masenma.

"Ten seconds," shouted the pilot over the intercom. The helicopter descended quickly, leaving a butterfly feeling in the stomachs of the commandos. "Going hot in five, four, three, two..." The helicopter hit the ground with a thud, and the side doors swung open, leaving the soldiers to pour out into a dampened wheat field, their boots squishing in the shallow mud. Taking point, the lead commando signaled forward. The troops began hustling to a walled-compound, keeping themselves low and hunched so as not to be detected in the tall wheat.

"Flank right," the lead commando spoke softly into the intercom system. "They definetely saw the chopper, but if they haven't fired at us yet, they must be holed up inside."

"Copy," said another member of the unit. "Flanking right."

The team split out of the wheat plants and up against the brick wall of the compound.

"Looking for a door or breaching, sir?"

"Breaching. Place it."

A commando stuck the explosive device to the brick wall, stepping back and signalling to the others to get their guns up. Clicking the trigger, the wall exploded outwards in a quick but dusty blast, and the commandos poured into the compound.

"Contact!" the lead commando shouted, squeezing his trigger and emptying several rounds into a target standing dazed at the door. Checking his body as they took his position, they recognized the armband and weapon at his side to mean he was a M.L.F. member.

"Target is definitely in here," one commando spoke up.

"Get the door down," shouted the lead commando. "Flashes in, watch for kids."

Two soldiers started butting the wooden door with their weapon hilts, breaking a hole through the handle area and pushing the door open. One soldier threw a flash grenade inside, which detonated with a loud bang. Another soldier, who was standing point next to the door, opened fire inside. As the team moved in, two dead terrorists lay on the carpet. The screams of a woman shrieked through the house, but quickly the source was located and a woman and her small child were escorted out of the building. As they left the house, she shouted back at the soldiers,

"Please don't hurt him, he's upstairs behind the bed!"

"Upstairs! Go, go!"

Four members of the team flanked up the stairs rapidly, the lead commando firing an additional shot at a terrorist hiding behind a cupboard at the top of the stairs. As the team reached the landing, they positioned around the bedroom door, shouting for the target inside to surrender. In response, three bullets smashed through the wooden door, striking the wall opposite of the four commandos. Busting the door down, it was only a second more until additional gunfire into the room ceased the fighting. The team moved the bodies out of the compound, laying them in the courtyard. Picture identification and a fingerprint testing came back positive, and a DNA sample was taken along with the team to have further confirmation back at staging.

The helicopter landed once again in the wheat field, as the team dragged the body-bagged target into the aircraft with them.

"Target down," the lead commando radioed back to Command in Lacarno. "Target has been killed."

The helicopter rose from the compound and rushed back across the valley. Looking over the lush farm fields and dry, rocky mountains surrounding them, the soldiers only could wonder what the inevitable Coalition-led battles in this region would hold, and how long the terrorists could hold out for.



Zian Presidential Mansion
Tofino
5 hours later

President Sakzi stood with his triumphant smile at the podium of the mansion's press room, greeting the media with the first major development of military operations in Vulkaria.

"My fellow Zamastanians and friends of the Coalition Forces, I can say with certainty and conclusion today that a team of our Special Forces has killed Bryn Matteo, a M.L.F. commander known as a crucial part of the group's command structure, the coordinator of and one of the perpetrators behind the 2017 Tofino Attacks. Matteo also was crucial to the planning of the January 2nd Attacks, and was known as one of the Malvarian Liberation Front's main recruiters and trainers. He was third in command of the terrorist group, and was planning many more attacks across the IDU and Vulkaria. Now, he is dead.

Our small ten-man strike team of special forces engaged him and his defenders at an isolated compound south of Masenma, taking four other terrorists down with him. We did not suffer a single injury or death. This is a good day for the Coalition forces as we prepare for the complete destruction and tear-down of the rebellious, deceitful and malicious terror groups in Northwest Vulkaria..."

Sakzi continued talking for a long while, soaking in the moment of celebration and pride he had as Commander-in-Chief. Soon, though, he would have to be back in the war room.

[Byzconia]

Brightport, Southford, Byzconia
Brightport Naval Base
Saturday, 4th January, 2020, 08:00

President Korvey stood in the office overlooking the base at Brightport. The light of the morning shown through the large window in the circular room. The design was sleek and modern. Brightport is any naval officer's dream assignment.

"It's crazy," Korvey said to Laurence Royer, Commander of Brightport, who stood behind him.

"What is," Royer asked.

"That one group of people could be so stupid as to sic dozens of literal armies on themselves," Korvey replied, referring to the Malvarian Liberation Front's attacks upon various nations in the IDU.

"What exactly did they think they were going to accomplish?"

"Well, sir, fanatics aren't known for their rational thought,' Royer responded, giving a bemused chuckle.

"I suppose so," mused Korvey, "but even so, they've damned themselves."

“It just boggles the mind. It really does. When you’re an insurgency, the goal should be to take power. When we fought Delgado’s regime, we always made sure to keep that in mind. His overthrow was more important than anything.”

“It’s best not to let it trouble you, sir,” Royer interrupted, trying to get the President’s mind on track.

“They’re not the DPF, they’re just some ignorant terrorists looking for something to die for.”

“Indeed,” responded Korvey, finally turning to face the commander, “and I suppose that’s at least somewhat good for us.”

“Sir,” the commander responded quizzically, surprised by the President’s choice of words.

“People who are afraid of death will fight like hell to escape it,” said Korvey, “that’s why Sun Tzu advises against completely cornering the enemy.”

“Because they’ll fight like wild animals,” the commander said, “I know, sir, we’ve all read the book.”

“Then why did you seem surprised just now,” Korvey asked, smirking like he was the clever-est man in the world.

The commander was bemused.

“It was just rather blunt, sir,” he answered.

“When have you known me to be anything else?”

Royer couldn’t help but laugh at that one. Too true, he thought.

“Regardless,” Korvey continued, “our troops are headed off to fight again.

“The National Assembly’s condemnation of the MLF was unanimous, which is something you don’t see everyday. That said, the decision to send troops was less so. Though the polls say our people support the intervention for now, that could change. This could all go very badly for us, if too many soldiers die.”

“Isn’t that the Government’s concern, sir,” Royer asked, referring to the coalition currently governing the country through Prime Minister Estrada’s Cabinet.

“After all, it’s not like you’ve got an election campaign to worry about.”

As if you could even lose an election, he thought to himself.

“I’m not worried about elections,” Korvey said, sitting at the desk, “I’m worried about the 4,000 soldiers we’re sending off to kill and die in someone else’s war, and all of the loved ones they’re leaving here.”

“You disapprove of the intervention, Mr. President,” asked Royer, stunned at the thought of the man who wrote the Declaration of Turson opposing Byzconian intervention.

“Of course not,” he replied, “our cause is just, I simply fear the long-term impact.

“The world is a different place than it was 20-years ago. Back then we were all filled with hope and revolutionary zeal at the world we could create. It all just felt so much simpler back then. Easier.”

“Perhaps it’s easier to take over a country than it is to govern one,” mused Royer.

“Perhaps so,” Korvey chuckled, “it just makes me wonder.”

“Wonder what, sir,” Royer asked.

“What comes next?”

The President then turns in his chair and the two men look out at the window as the last of the Byzconian troops file onto the transport, bound for Vulkaria.


Byzconian Military Mission to Vulkaria sets sail

[Byzconia]

Brightport, Southford, Byzconia
Brightport Naval Base
Saturday, 4th January, 2020, 08:00

President Korvey stood in the office overlooking the base at Brightport. The light of the morning shown through the large window in the circular room. The design was sleek and modern. Brightport is any naval officer's dream assignment.

"It's crazy," Korvey said to Laurence Royer, Commander of Brightport, who stood behind him.

"What is," Royer asked.

"That one group of people could be so stupid as to sic dozens of literal armies on themselves," Korvey replied, referring to the Malvarian Liberation Front's attacks upon various nations in the IDU.

"What exactly did they think they were going to accomplish?"

"Well, sir, fanatics aren't known for their rational thought,' Royer responded, giving a bemused chuckle.

"I suppose so," mused Korvey, "but even so, they've damned themselves."

“It just boggles the mind. It really does. When you’re an insurgency, the goal should be to take power. When we fought Delgado’s regime, we always made sure to keep that in mind. His overthrow was more important than anything.”

“It’s best not to let it trouble you, sir,” Royer interrupted, trying to get the President’s mind on track.

“They’re not the DPF, they’re just some ignorant terrorists looking for something to die for.”

“Indeed,” responded Korvey, finally turning to face the commander, “and I suppose that’s at least somewhat good for us.”

“Sir,” the commander responded quizzically, surprised by the President’s choice of words.

“People who are afraid of death will fight like hell to escape it,” said Korvey, “that’s why Sun Tzu advises against completely cornering the enemy.”

“Because they’ll fight like wild animals,” the commander said, “I know, sir, we’ve all read the book.”

“Then why did you seem surprised just now,” Korvey asked, smirking like he was the clever-est man in the world.

The commander was bemused.

“It was just rather blunt, sir,” he answered.

“When have you known me to be anything else?”

Royer couldn’t help but laugh at that one. Too true, he thought.

“Regardless,” Korvey continued, “our troops are headed off to fight again.

“The National Assembly’s condemnation of the MLF was unanimous, which is something you don’t see everything. That said, the decision to send troops was less so. Though the polls say our people support the intervention for now, that could change. This could all go very badly for us, if too many soldiers die.”

“Isn’t that the Government’s concern, sir,” Royer asked, referring to the coalition currently governing the country through Prime Minister Estrada’s Cabinet.

“After all, it’s not like you’ve got an election campaign to worry about.”

As if you could even lose an election, he thought to himself.

“I’m not worried about elections,” Korvey said, sitting at the desk, “I’m worried about the 4,000 soldiers we’re sending off to kill and die in someone else’s war, and all of the loved ones they’re leaving here.”

“You disapprove of the intervention, Mr. President,” asked Royer, stunned at the thought of the man who wrote the Declaration of Turson opposing Byzconian intervention.

“Of course not,” he replied, “our cause is just, I simply fear the long-term impact.

“The world is a different place than it was 20-years ago. Back then we were all filled with hope and revolutionary zeal at the world we could create. It all just felt so much simpler back then. Easier.”

“Perhaps it’s easier to take over a country than it is to govern one,” mused Royer.

“Perhaps so,” Korvey chuckled, “it just makes me wonder.”

“Wonder what, sir,” Royer asked.

“What comes next?”

The President then turns in his chair and the two men look out at the window as the last of the Byzconian troops file onto the transport, bound for Vulkaria.


Byzconian Military Mission to Vulkaria sets sail

[Zamastan]

Preparing the Siege

Upol Military Base, Vulkar
Saturday, January 4th, 2020, 10:32 PM


General Avery Reynolds entered the plain-walled war room, located in an extended trailer camp within the Upol Military Base. The majority of combat-ready forces had been moved to a staging area near Freeborn, and the Maximusian Major-General Alexander Wallace and the Shen Lieutenant-General Chang Fenhau were waiting inside, flanked by two sunglass-doned Zamastanian commandos with side arms strapped to their waists. They needed to evaluate their plan for attack.

“Gentlemen,” General Reynolds began, “we've been given the green light to take Freeborn.”

“Excellent.” General Wallace responded in typical Maximusian energy. The armed forces of Libertas Omnium Maximus had seen some of the most foreign combat of any nation aside Zamastan in the past decades, and Reynolds suspected that Wallace was ambitious for attack. That could be an asset to the strike force, or possibly a weakness. “As you know, our vanguard forces will be arriving early tomorrow. We can have them ready for action by tomorrow night.”

Reynolds nodded as he extended a metallic pointer, snapping it down to the desktop where a detailed map of Freeborn’s main streets and outlying areas that would be the target of the upcoming battle. Reynolds guided the pointer to three individual areas on the map.

“These are the maneuvering points,” Reynolds said, focusing on an intersection on the highway to the north of the city, a bridge system leading into the city on the east, and a river valley and terraced hill to the south. “As you know, the city is on the other side of the Amden River. Three bridges, here, here, and here. We know there are heavy artillery placements, including anti-aircraft turrets. Under normal circumstances, we'd take them out with airstrikes,”

“My first thought is to have strike teams enter from the south and north via parachute drops outside of city limits,” said General Wallace. “We then have them move in on city defenses in Freeborn before the primary assault begins.”

"Paratroopers coming in low might be able to avoid the AA platforms,” Chang chimed in, leaning in closer to the map and taking a long drag of his cigarette. Reynolds winced at the smell.

“With due respect, Generals, I think paratroopers would be a dangerous and unnecessary maneuver. It'll be better to land at staging areas designated by Zamastanian troops who are already there.” Reynolds said, as the General looked at him with confused expressions. Reynolds sighed, as he revealed the reality of the situation. “We don't know where exactly the platforms will be.” Reynolds reiterated his point further, “The AA placements are on flatbed trucks that are constantly on the move. We'll need strike teams to locate them within the city and take them out individually.”

“Well,” Wallace said, crossing his arms, “I just like to exhaust every option.”

“Understandable, General.” Reynolds breathed. The battle would have to focus on taking out the turrets with ground teams, but they would have to figure that out when they got to the ground. Reynolds continued with the plan. “I agree with the decision to take the city from separate angles. If Maximusian troops can approach from the south, Zamastanian forces can take the two bridges to the north.” Reynolds turned to the Shen General. “General Chang, can the Shen forces move towards the highway north of the city?”

The Shen soldier contemplated, staring down at the map with hard eyes. "We must cut off their ability to resupply and retreat. Conflicts like this rarely have such high concentrations of insurgents. We cannot let them slip away.” He looked up at General Reynolds, a determined glare over his face. “Therefore, I will send my armies around to the north, as you suggested. to seize the northern highways and cut-off resupply and retreat."

“Maximusian forces would be well suited for an assault from the south.” said Wallace.

“You'll be facing heavy rural resistance on the highway, General Chang,” Reynolds reminded him. “Make sure to keep our forces updated on your progress.”

"Of course General.” The Shen general kept his steep gaze. “Communication is the key to winning battles. My troops will deploy in a wide front on this line, " he said, motioning with his finger to northeast of Freeborn. "We will sweep forward in a standard pacification protocol towards the highway, just before securing and crossing the bridge - here. From there, we can link up with our Naval assets, and move to link up with the flanks of General Wallace's Army, completing the encirclement."

Reynolds nodded in understanding. “So Shen forces will capture the road and the northern bridge, Zamastanian forces will move along the middle from the east and seize the remaining two bridges, and Maximusian forces will cross the river and engage the city from the south,” he recapped. He took a longer look at the city encirclement plan for the Maximusian and Zamastanian troops. Zamastanian troops would get bogged down on the bridges, which would spend time. “General Wallace, there's a possibility that your forces may be the first to enter the city.”

“Understood,” Wallace remarked. “My men are well equipped for urban warfare.” He grinned, “We'll try to leave a few terrorists behind for you two. Don't worry.”

“Make sure your men don't move too far into the city until my forces have nabbed the bridges,” Reynolds said without a smile. “Otherwise, you'll be cut off.”

Wallace shook his head up in agreement. “We will be moving to link up with the General’s forces, but we will not be moving east.”

“Yes,” Reynolds breathed, “perfect. Once the city is captured, we can establish our forces in the city and figure out our next move. Are we good, gentlemen? Anything else?”

"General Reynolds,” Chang remarked, “since your route goes along the river, perhaps I should place our naval gunboats under your command? They should be effective in forcing the insurgents away from the Shoreline. That will make your job slightly easier"

“We have the bridges to worry about, General, I appreciate the offer.” Reynolds paused, assessing the map further. “However, General Wallace's forces might have a use for them, seeing as they won't have a dry bridge crossing.”

“I am sure we could find a use for your ships if they can fit,” Wallace responded. “We will be running rather shallow for your larger vessels though, if I am not mistaken.”

"The Zamastanian intelligence on the depths of the rivers shows that they have plenty of room for our gunboats,” Chang reminded Wallace. “But, we do not have firm enough numbers to confirm they’re deep enough for our River Corvettes. I cannot risk the river's getting clogged with Corvettes so I'm only going to authorize the use of our lighter gunboats"

“We will happily make use of them when necessary.” Wallace responded.

“Alright.” Reynolds stood back straight, smiling slightly at his counterparts. “It's settled. It's game time, gentlemen. See you in 12 hours.”

“Indeed,” Wallace smiled, “the game's afoot.”

“May Heaven shine upon us today,” Chang gleamed.

[Xiomera]

Godenia, Vulkaria
Forward Operating Base Moyolehuani

Brigadier General Tlanexchel stared out at what, until 24 hours earlier, had been a relatively useless military installation.

Previously known as Cooperative Security Location (CSL) Moyolehuani, the site had been operated by the Coytōchte Corporation as part of its ongoing contract to train the Vulkarians in how to deal with pesky insects such as terrorists and insurgents. In the view of the Jaguar Warriors General now overlooking the site, the mercenaries had failed. With that failure now apparent in the smoldering remains of what had been the front gate of their HQ in Huitzitaca, the Coytōchte mercenaries had summarily been sent home, and their base re-purposed by the real Xiomeran soldiers under Tlanexchel’s command. CSL Moyolehuani, named after a famous Xiomeran warrior of the Civil War period, had served one useful purpose: as a convenient landing point for his brigade.

Tlanexchel was taking no chances with the defenses of what was now known as FOB Moyolehuani; walls of ready-to-assemble gabion fortifications were going up to supplement the previous weak barbed wire perimeter, and additional strongpoints with heavy machine guns were being set up. Other prefab buildings, rapidly shipped over from Xiomera, were popping up to supplement the more permanent structures that had existed. But to Tlanexchel’s eyes, the most beautiful sight of all was the steady stream of Xiomeran soldiers, armored vehicles, and necessary supplies that were now arriving at the base.

“So we’re here. Now where’s the party?” a voice asked. Tlanexchel turned to see Col. Yolihuani, his second-in-command. “We’re here, but we’re not exactly invited to the party yet,” the General said with a slight chuckle. “For now, we’re getting settled in and getting ready. We’ll be involved in plenty of fireworks soon enough.”

“Good. We’ll be ready for whatever these M.L.F. cowards have to throw at us,” the Colonel replied, shouldering her XM-11D Tlihuatl assault rifle and scanning the area around her.

Tlanexchel was glad that Yolihuani, and the Jaguar and Eagle Warriors under their command, had that level of confidence. Xiomera’s armed forces had not fought in an actual armed conflict in decades, and there had been a few skeptical voices back in Tlālacuetztla that had argued that the Xiomerans weren’t ready to jump headfirst into what could end up being a very nasty war of attrition overseas.

Watching his soldiers setting up their base and deploying with trademark Xiomeran efficiency and poise, however, Tlanexchel knew that those skeptics back in Tlālacuetztla could blow it out their other noise hole. The question isn’t if we’re ready for these terrorist scumbags; the question is, are they ready for Xiomerans? the General thought with pride.

Turning to walk back to the command center, Tlanexchel told Yolihuani, “Let’s get in touch with the others who are planning this little dance. Let the coalition leaders know we’ve arrived, and we’re ready. Also, get me in touch with the other commanders whose forces are based here in Godenia. We’re going to have to coordinate things with them if we don’t want to end up shooting ourselves in the ass.”

Yolihuani nodded, already moving to execute those requests.

[Legionas]

The Legionite Troops ship out



Moense, Legionas
Huamzia Military Base
Saturday, January 4th, 2020, 0900 hours

Supreme Admiral McRaven and Field Marshall Oliver Mason-Pearce stood outside the Briefing Room smoking cigars while watching the Sheer amount of equipment required during the Vulkarian Operations being loaded onto the Radon R-1's parked on the apron. Who knew that 2020 would start off like this, with an attack of such magnitude. These two men were supposed to be on leave but thanks to the M.L.F they were going back into Vulkaria, hopefully, for the final time. The briefing had been the usual, a screaming match among the general staff and general chaos, but it was all worth it since 'planning is indispensable'. Supreme Admiral McRaven was scheduled to leave in 5 minutes and rejoin the third fleet currently en-route to the Bay of Kas.

The two never got along together, partly due to Oliver's jealousy and Andrew's cockiness which hampered their relationship severely. It was unfortunate though that they have to work together on such an almost insurmountable task. Regardless the M.L.F had to be wiped off the map and these two men were only a cog in the giant machine that would take them on.

70,000 total troops were expected to be in Vulkaria in 14 days, as well as 150 jets and 50 transport jets. This was the first batch of troops departing to the volatile region, laying the groundwork for the Legionite mission into Vulkaria.

Plans had been put into motion earlier to erect troop accomodation at Rigiamento Military base and Erita Military base to avoid logistical challenges, although the construction was lagging behind schedule. Admiral McRaven hoped that the Zerphiquean contractors could pull it off.

"Drew, we need to talk." Field Marshall Mason-Pearce began

"I know we don't see eye to eye. It's obvious that this will affect the mission. Can we at least try to get along at least for the sake of these men and women about to fight for the Nation. I know we both hate the M.L.F, that's for sure. Maybe we could use that as the basis for our partnership?"

"Oliver, I agree we do need to work together. In fact, have a seat, I need to show you something."

Field Marshall Oliver-Pearce and Supreme Admiral McRaven sat on a nearby table facing the apron. Supreme Admiral McRaven opened his satchel bag and took out a tablet. He navigated to a file filled with images, swiped for a few seconds and handed it to the Field Marshall.

"Is this the Sangra valley?" The Field Marshall asked

"Indeed it is, as you can see there is one road leading from Lacarno to Mansema, which has two roads leading to Sangra and Slagharen. The road moving from Sangra splits into two roads entering Katherson and Billmon. Theoretically the best way to advance would be using the main roa..."

"The main roads would definitely be littered with I.E.D's, that's for sure."

"Exactly, so what do you think we should do. I'm beginning to think of dropping in our elite Albatross Paratroopers in around Sangra, liberate the town and coordinate with the other coalition members in Lacarno who'd liberate Mansema together in an encirclement move."

"That sounds like a great idea, Admiral. I thought you were only good with ships, turns out I was wrong. I do think that we'd still need to organize some detailed recon of the area, just to be absolutely sure."

"Of course, I think I can organize that relatively soon." Admiral McRaven inspected his cigar before taking a lungful of the very best Legionite tobacco and checked the time. "Oh, I need to get back to the Third Fleet, see you soon Oliver."

The Supreme Admiral stood up and headed to the Legionite Navy chopper with his characteristic gunslinger gait. He left behind a man who was seen as one of the greatest generals in Legionas, although being only 45 years old.

Within a few hours the first 1000 soldiers as well as half of the equipment and all the jets would depart for Himera, ready to bring freedom to the North of Vulkaria.

[Arcadia Dazeber]

Arcadia Dazber Troops on the ground

Arcadia-Dazber, Verinia, Situation room
January 4, 2020, 09:00 hours

Chancellor Paul Weber was seated down, he's at a meeting with military staff and intelligent's adviser he is currently puzzled about the events that have unfolded and the decision that he had made following that dreadful day. He wonders if he had even made the right call in sending those men to Vulkaria to participate in a war that wasn't there fight. It was quite in the room someone had to break that silence.

"So, gentlemen what's the current situation in Vulkaria" said Paul breaking the silence in the room.

"Chancellor, our coalition partners are already stationed in Vulkaria are preparing to launch an offensive, troops stationed at Olenia air base have begun to ship out and are currently enroute to Godenia," said General Albert Werner.

"We even have intelligence of Ximoreians movement in Vulkaria, it would be best if we could get in contact with them in order to get them cooperate with us," said national security adviser, Lous Volkmann interrupting Werner.

"Make it happen Lous, I don't want an incident because our troops killed a Ximoreian solider just because we thought they we're mistaken as the enemy; and General what of the Byzonicaians and coalition partners?," said Paul.

"The Byzonicans are on there way to Godenia. We should be able to meet up with them in 3/4 days. The other coalition forces, however are on the preparing for there offensive near enemy territory and for our assault we already manage to get in contact with a Byzonican general and his staff. They've already been informed of the operation and our plan," Werner replied.

"The attacks that occurred on January 2, even though the decision to send 12,000 troops to intervene in the conflict is debatable, still people demand neutrality in the conflict recent demonstrations and protests have occurred. The longer we get involve in this conflict the more people are gonna start demanding for withdrawal which will decrease our support. I want this war to end soon as possible," said a demanding Paul

"We assure you, chancellor. The M.L.F may be skilled, but there nothing but a bunch of unskilled guns for hire, who can't even learn how to shoot a rifle and all they care about is their own pay checks. They will be defeated in a matter of days," said a confident Werner.

"Don't let your confidence control you, general. You've seen what these men are capable of, make sure these people are eliminated and dealt with and approach with the upmost caution."

"Yes, chancellor!," replied a general.

Paul stands up from his chair and addresses everyone in the room "gentlemen, I believe this meeting has concluded you're all dismiss." addressing the staff.

Everyone get's up from there chair and proceeds to enter out of the room.

Paul stops and takes a deep pause before continuing out, this is gonna be a long campaign, he thought to himself.

He then precedes to exit out of the room as the door closes behind him.

[Arcadia Dazeber]

Arcadia Dazber Troops on the ground

Arcadia-Dazber, Verinia, Situation room
January 4, 2020, 09:00 hours

Chancellor Paul Weber was seated down, he's at a meeting with military staff and intelligent's adviser he is currently puzzled about the events that have unfolded and the decision that he had made following that dreadful day. He wonders if he had even made the right call in sending those men to Vulkaria to participate in a war that wasn't there fight. It was quite in the room someone had to break that silence.

"So, gentlemen what's the current situation in Vulkaria" said Paul breaking the silence in the room.

"Chancellor, our coalition partners are already stationed in Vulkaria and are preparing to launch an offensive, troops stationed at Olenia air base have begun to ship out and are currently enroute to Godenia," said General Albert Werner.

"We even have intelligence of Ximoreians movement in Vulkaria, it would be best if we could get in contact with them in order to get them cooperate with us," said national security adviser, Lous Volkmann interrupting Werner.

"Make it happen Lous, I don't want an incident because our troops killed a Ximoreian solider just because we thought they we're mistaken as the enemy; and General what of the Byzonicaians and coalition partners?," said Paul.

"The Byzonicans are on there way to Godenia. We should be able to meet up with them in 3/4 days. The other coalition forces, however are on the preparing for there offensive near enemy territory and for our assault we already manage to get in contact with a Byzonican general and his staff. They've already been informed of the operation and our plan," Werner replied.

"The attacks that occurred on January 2, even though the decision to send 12,000 troops to intervene in the conflict is debatable, still people demand neutrality in the conflict recent demonstrations and protests have occurred. The longer we get involve in this conflict the more people are gonna start demanding for withdrawal which will decrease our support. I want this war to end soon as possible," said a demanding Paul

"We assure you, chancellor. The M.L.F may be skilled, but there nothing but a bunch of unskilled guns for hire, who can't even learn how to shoot a rifle and all they care about is their own pay checks. They will be defeated in a matter of days," said a confident Werner.

"Don't let your confidence control you, general. You've seen what these men are capable of, make sure these people are eliminated and dealt with and approach with the upmost caution."

"Yes, chancellor!," replied a general.

Paul stands up from his chair and addresses everyone in the room "gentlemen, I believe this meeting has concluded you're all dismiss." addressing the staff.

Everyone get's up from there chair and proceeds to enter out of the room.

Paul stops and takes a deep pause before continuing out, this is gonna be a long campaign, he thought to himself.

He then precedes to exit out of the room as the door closes behind him.

[Xiomera]

FOB Moyolehuani

Colonel Yolihuani rushed into the command center. "Sir, you need to see this. We just received this intelligence report," she said, handing Brigadier General Tlanexchel a tablet. The General read over the message. When he was done, he laid down the tablet slowly. A smile of pure delight spread across his stony features. "Go get the bastard," he said.

---

Skies over Vulkaria
2:30 am, the following morning

Two XMH-6 helicopters streaked over the night-darkened landscape below. The two helicopters were specially-modified versions of the standard workhorse used to transport Xiomeran soldiers to the battlefield. Special rotors, boom, fairings and stabilizers, along with radar-absorbing paint, made them far more silent and harder to detect than normal helicopters. As practical ghosts, they were the ideal vehicles to deliver the humans who would, wraithlike, deliver their own revenge on the man who had dared to target the Xiomeran Empire.

The helicopters had left FOB Moyolehuani on a deceptive route, skirting to the east to avoid Werrnia before turning abruptly back westward once more to travel through the empty space between Werrnia and Firnstead to avoid detection. A platoon of Jaguar Warriors (one assault squad, one reconnaisance/sniper squad) were the passengers. Their destination was a compound west of Firnstead that had been identified as the hideout of a M.L.F. high-value target who was of particular interest to the Xiomerans.

As the helicopters approached the compound, a single even more stealthy craft streaked ahead of them. An XRD-3 stealth drone scanned the skies and landscape below, giving the strike teams aboard the helicopters an excellent view of the target.

Lt. Pahuātlahcō, the commander of the strike operation, silently gave the signal as the helicopters approached the target. The first to deploy were the snipers; their job was to take out as many guards as possible. The intelligence the Xiomerans had received indicated that there would be 12 bodyguards and multiple dogs on inside the three-story main building and its surrounding compound. The snipers had a simple task: to weed out as many guards and dogs as they could, before someone noticed their arrival.

The five snipers quickly slid down ropes from the helicopters to the compound walls, running silently to find firing positions. Their special XM-12D suppressed designated marksman rifles would make it relatively easy to eliminate at least some of the targets before an alarm was sounded.

Within moments, small, almost unnoticeable crack sounds could be heard. M.L.F. guards, whether human or canine, began dropping to the ground. As the few lucky enough to not get shot by unseen assassins belatedly realized they were under attack, the remaining Jaguar Warriors began their assault. Within moments, all resistance in the courtyard was put down, and the Xiomerans reached the main building. Lt. Pahuātlahcō ordered one of his men to place a breaching charge on the door. The Jaguar Warriors took cover as the charge went off, blasting the door into several pieces.

While the explosion and smoke would make it hard for the terrorists remaining inside the building to see what was happening, the Xiomerans would have no such difficulty thanks to their night-vision equipment. As the Jaguar Warriors quickly searched the building, they picked off the few remaining enemies before they could get a shot off.

All except for three of them.

The final place to search, at the top of the building, was believed to be a set of living quarters. As the Xiomerans approached the door, a rattle of gunfire greeted them through it. One of the Xiomerans was hit with fragments from the door; the others quickly pulled him back behind the corner.

Lt. Pahuātlahcō cursed and grabbed another explosive charge. Crawling towards the door to avoid any repeat gunfire, he slapped the charge on the door and quickly crawled back to the relative safety of the corner. Seconds later, the explosion took out the last obstacle remaining to the Xiomerans' target.

Lt. Pahuātlahcō and his men rushed into the room. The men inside were dazed from the explosion; as they reached for their rifles, the Jaguar Warriors quickly dispatched them with single shots. The last man looked at the Xiomerans with a mix of fear and defiance.

"Dire Sulsi! Put your hands on your head and get down on your knees," Lt. Pahuātlahcō shouted. The other man looked at the Xiomerans, and then at one of the rifles on the ground. The lieutenant simply waited. When the man dove for the rifle, the sound of multiple shots brought a quick and final end to the Xiomerans' first special forces operation on foreign soil.

"Search everything. If you find any computers, hard drives, flash drives, any kind of data at all, grab it. This bastard knew a lot about what the M.L.F. was doing - we're not leaving that knowledge with his corpse," Lt. Pahuātlahcō said. "Secure the body as well."

Palace of Flowers, Tlālacuetztla
Later that day

The South Gardens of the Palace of Flowers had become the preferred location for speeches by Imperial officials; in the wake of the assassination of Emperor Topilpopoca just outside the palace walls, it was deemed wiser to have such speeches in a location where security could be tighter. The gardens also happened to be quite lovely, and the ancient main pyramids of the Palace behind them made for an impressive backdrop.

Empress Yauhmi, standing at the podium, looked out at the gathered press and officials. "Thank you all for coming. It is my extreme pleasure to report that our Jaguar Warriors have delivered justice to the man who was responsible for planning the recent terrorist attack in Huitzitaca. Dire Sulsi, a high-ranking M.L.F. leader, was responsible for terrorist attacks in Legionas, Zamastan, and Lauchenoiria. He was also responsible for much of the M.L.F.'s training and recruitment, in addition to staging the terrorist attack that struck us. Note that I use the word was. Dire Sulsi chose to live a life of violence, and so he died in a violent way, refusing to surrender when we attempted to take him into custody. He was responsible for much violence, in many nations. But in the end, he chose the wrong nation, and the wrong people, to target."

The Empress looked sternly at the cameras. "When I promised that the M.L.F. would regret drawing the attention of the Xiomeran Empire, I meant it. Let this be a warning to any other terrorists or criminals out there who would think to target Xiomera - if we are struck, we will strike back twice as hard. I will now take questions."

A foreign reporter raised his hand, and the Empress pointed to him. "Your Majesty, the Xiomeran operation in Vulkaria was originally described as a limited response to the single terrorist attack that occurred on Xiomeran soil. Now that the terrorist responsible for planning that attack is dead, will the Xiomeran military pull out of Vulkaria?"

Yauhmi sighed. "One man is dead. The malevolent organization that he was part of still lives. Until that organization is destroyed, no Xiomeran - or anyone else - is safe."

"Does this mean Xiomera will maintain, or even increase, its military commitment to the Vulkarian operation? Does that risk drawing Xiomera into a quagmire?" the reporter pressed.

The Empress looked down from the podium at him with a slightly irritated expression.

"Xiomerans don't leave jobs unfinished. We will do whatever it takes, whatever we must do, to prevent further terrorists from threatening our people, or anyone else. Does that pose a risk? Of course it does. Everything in life is a risk. But we say that we want Xiomera to be a great nation. Great nations do not shirk their responsibilities. We have been silent on the world stage for too long - it is time for Xiomera to assume the responsibilities of a great nation if we expect to be seen as one. If we want respect, we must earn it. And we will. There is no challenge Xiomerans cannot meet, and our people are ready for this challenge. Our nation is ready for it. And if you don't believe we are - well, I'd tell you to ask Dire Sulsi, but unlike myself, he's not taking questions at the moment. Or ever again."

The reporter gulped slightly, and sat down. "Does anyone else have any questions?" the Empress asked. With no one particularly eager to raise their hand, the Empress simply nodded and swept from the podium.

[Libertas Omnium Maximus]

Vulkar, Vulkaria
January 6th, 2020 - 2:35 PM

Sergeant Harold Weaver and his five men were walking carefully through a densely vegetated meadow when they saw their first Malvarian Liberation Front soldier. The soldier must have just finished relieving himself in a bush when the Maximusian squadron stumbled upon him by the way he was caught completely off guard and desperately fumbled for his rifle. Weaver quickly double tapped him with his A-95 Carbine before the terrorist even had a chance to lift his outdated rifle. The sergeant's orders were clear, unless they actively surrender, he was to eliminate all terrorists with extreme prejudice.

Weaver and his platoon quickly approached the downed man, who's skull had been blown apart by the two rounds. Private John Preston, the squad's gunner, knelt beside the dead terrorist and spat onto what remained of the man's face. "No one messes with LOM." the gunner whispered to the corpse. Preston suddenly drew his combat knife and sunk it into the terrorist's chest before his squad mates could pull him away from the body.

"Leave the body alone!" shouted Weaver, desperate to maintain order. "Boys, listen! We are in hostile territory. We can't let emotions get the best of us. We are about six hundred meters from a dirt road. You better believe we will encounter opposition before we get there. I have no intention to die today and, more importantly, I have no intention to let any of you die under my watch. Let's move out!"

The squadron moved out in silence, each man knowing that this event would never be mentioned again. As the group plodded along, they became more and more aware of the reality that was ahead of them. The sounds of gunfire off in the distance grew closer and more distinct. War was upon them.

No sooner did the group reach the road than a Liberation Front vehicle passed by. It spotted them, clear as day, and came to a sudden stop. "Engage them, now!" Weaver yelled before opening fire on the vehicle. A young Malvarian Liberation Front soldier instantly dropped upon opening his door. He shouted out in pain as bullets tore through his torso. His comrade, a light machine gun wielding terrorist, however, was able to dive free of the vehicle and began to lay down suppressive fire, causing the Maximusian troops to have to fall back into the woods for cover.

"This is Alpha Squadron. We are pinned down. Requesting backup." Weaver desperately shouted into his radio.

Bullets split the trees around Weaver's squadron like twigs. The sergeant returned fire as the rest of his squamates took cover behind a fallen log. He promptly dove behind the log and gave his men a prompt assessment of the situation.

"Listen. We probably have at least two additional terries moving in on as now. Our first objective is to take down the LMG bogey. Peters, Jackson, I want you to on me. We are going low and fast. Preston, Anders, Vincent, I want you three on the other terries. Alright. 3...2...1... MOVE OUT NOW!"

Weaver and his group jumped out from behind the log and immediately began shooting. The MLF member with the machine gun returned fire for a few seconds before taking a round to the shoulder knocking him off his feet. The other group of army men quickly took out the insurgents with the precision that Maximusian soldiers had come to be known for. The encounter was won handily, and with no counter-insurgent casualties to boot.

Gasping for air, the terrorist who had formally held the machine gun began crawling back towards a revolver that had fallen out of the car door. Just as he managed to take hold of the weapon, the man was silenced by a gunshot to the back of the head. The area had been cleared of all hostiles.

Weaver checked all of his men over for injuries. Thankfully, aside from some scrapes and bruises, they were all alright. The sergeant then lifted his radio in order to confirm that there had been no new developments before relaying the information to his men.

"Looks like resistance so far has been heavy. Two squadrons about 1.2 kilometers north of here captured an AA gun mounted on the flatbed of the truck. Intelligence suggests that there are at least three more somewhere in the area. One of them is about 1 kilometer north/northwest of here. That's our new mission. We are going to march up this road and meet up with Echo Squadron. We are then going to find that AA gun and take it down. Let's move out!"

[Democratic Republic Of Eiria]

Lacarno, Vulkaria
8:13 PM

Lieutenant General Natalie Letālia stood outside the command building, watching the last convoy of Trucks carrying Eirian soldiers arrive into the base. Everything is going to plan. Onto Masenma We Go!. The Leader of the convoy got out, walked over to the Lt. General and saluted. "At ease. Report, Colonel". She said, nodding at him. "The Convoy faced no trouble. Troop morale is high, but expected to dip a little while adjusting". She nodded again. "Thank you, Colonel Telà. Go get some rest". He saluted again. "Yes, Lieutenant General". He walked fast back to the barracks. She stood on the steps for awhile, looking up at the night sty

Her Second in Command, Major General Jackson Gray, Walked up beside Her. "Is something Wrong, Nat?". Normally, That informal of a greeting would be responded with a reprimand, but since it was only Letālià and Gray talking, and Gray has served under Letālià for years, and had become a dear friend, she didn't mind. "Nothing huge. I just don't want these soldiers to die at my fault. You know, it's only eighteen thousand troops' lives in my hands. No pressure".

Gray Laughed. "I get you. It's the downside of the job. I've seen you take on Armies of Darrin's Forces and be the only one not quaking. Why not here?".
She looked down. "My brother was injured in the Merēta Convention Center Bombing. I got word today that they had to amputate his leg. I don't want to let him down, to not avenge him, to make his suffering in vain".
Gray looked Shocked. "I'm so sorry, Natalie. I shouldn't have brought it up".
She shook her head fiercely. "No. I am glad you did. I needed to express myself".
They were Silent for a Moment, and then Gray Spoke. "Can I make a suggestion? Instead of seeing it as extra pressure, use it as extra motive to avenge him. It may not be easy, but you will. I know you will".
"Thanks, Jack. Well, I probably should hit the bunks. Thank you for your support, Jack. It means a lot. Goodnight!".
He smiled. "Goodnight, Lieutenant General". Letālia walked back to her quarters, smiling the whole way.

[Zamastan]

Into Freeborn
Monday, January 6th, 2:20 PM
Freeborn, Vulkaria

“Advance.”

The 46th Battalion, a half mile from the main bridge entering Freeborn, began their on-foot movement towards the target. They had to capture the first bridge in order to move further into the city. In addition, the Battalion would also have to engage and destroy any anti-air turrets that they discovered. This would be a difficult task, and the troopers of the 46th knew that.

As they turned the sharp bank in the road, company commanders began shouting for the soldier’s attention and for staging themselves for possible incoming fire. Doing so, the soldiers in the front column paced slower behind the APV’s leading the flank. Sure enough, once the bridge was in view, flashes and loud cracks of erupting enemy gunfire signaled the beginning of the battle. The conflict had officially begun.

“Contact!” Lieutenant Colonel Emmett Marsh shouted as a round whizzed by his head. The troops ducked back behind the troop carriers as bullets ricochet off the metal plating. Inside the protected walls of the APV, a scout observer eyed the terrain and buildings around the bridge ahead for the targets bearing down on them. Muzzle flashes in the spaces between the rocks and shrubs dotting the bridge entrance confirmed their location.

“Targets located, bearing 65 meters down slope,” the scout shouted into the comlink.

“Return fire, suppress!” Marsh shouted, spit flying to the asphalt as his troops began to take point. The APV’s turret swivel, with loud thumping explosions and tracer casings rocketing towards the bridge. The dirt and foliage around the enemy location burst in quick puffs of the blast from the APV’s cannon and eradicated the majority of incoming fire. Any remaining stragglers from those positions began running up onto the road, where they were quickly picked off by the advancing Zamastanian troops.

“Good work,” Marsh approved in a pump of his fist in the air. “APV team, hold here.” The APV column stopped, turrets trained on the bridge as Marsh and dozens of troops began rushing forward to the head of the column with their heads ducked. The concrete construction barriers on the entrance to the bridge, erected by the Malvarian Liberation Front during their occupation of the city in 2017, stood as perfect cover. As the battalion settled at the entrance to the bridge, preparing to march across, they heard the muffled eruptions of blasts to the south-west.

“Colonel,” a voice on the intercom squaked, “Maximusian forces have begun their assault.”

“Thank you, officer,” Marsh responded into the com strapped to his chest, “send word to their lead command that we are about to take the bridge position-” Marsh stopped, as he caught in the corner of his eye one of the soldiers under his command proding a fallen enemy combatant with his boot.

“Private, quit.” Marsh’s face twisted. “Note the body and leave it be.”

“It’s a terrorist, sir,” the private retorted. “They don’t get dignity.”

“No, private, they don’t. That’s why we’re killing them-” Marsh stopped again as the intercom buzzed once more. Marsh pressed his finger down on the receptor. “This is Marsh.”

“We found an anti-air system, sir!” Another voice squaked over the com.

“Location?”

“Two blocks from the other end of the bridge,” the voice said ecstatically. “No vehicle attached, it’s just the platform and turret system. Located inside a large warehouse. Minor enemy security, tagging four tangos around the perimeter-” The intercom went quiet as Marsh clicked his finger away from the receptor and turned to the private once more.

“Private! Step back from the body!”

“Sir,” the private began to protest, foot planted firmly on the dead man’s neck, “I didn’t just ship out from Tofino to see a quick clean up, I wanna see these guys completely-”

“Private, one last warning to step back from the body.” Marsh stepped up from his dug-in area behind the concrete, stepping towards the private rapidly and with muscles pulled back. The private stumbled back and fell to the ground, catching himself with his arm. Marsh stood over the soldier, as many in the battalion watched on.

“We are here to clear out the terrorist threat, not demean anything that would encourage people to their cause.” Marsh was loud, shaking this soldier further to the ground with his words. “That little display of yours isn’t impressing anyone, son. If you want to impress your fellow warriors, stay calm, keep collected, and shoot bad guys. Then don’t step on em after, you got it?”

The private swallowed, voice slightly cracking as he reeled. “Yes, sir.”

Marsh stepped back, turning his attention back to his spotter behind the concrete. “We need to take the bridge now.”

“Yes sir.”

“Arm up, watch yourselves men.”

The men of the 46th Battalion began marching slowly towards the bridge and into Freeborn, guns trained high looking for enemy fighters.

[Xiomera]

(Joint post with Shen)

Imperial Attendant Tlalli found herself once again placing a phone call to someone very important, on behalf of her own very important boss. I may be a glorified switchboard operator some days, but at least it pays well, she thought as she called her counterpart at the other end of the line in Shen and let them know that Yauhmi was requesting to speak with the God-Empress.

Zheng was just looking over a list of public appearances that members of the royal family was set to make the next week when his phone started ringing. He recognized the number instantly, picking it up with haste. "Evening, Tlalli. I suppose you need me to forward a call to the Empress?"

"That would be most appreciated, yes," Tlalli said politely.

"Of course. Transferring you now."

The map room was located directly below the throne room. Directly below the heart of Imperium. It was a large room, with a table situated around a large area in which a huge map of whatever was being discussed could be placed down. In this case, it was Vulkaria.

The generals looked as their staff members moved around flags on a map with each flag representing Army units on the ground. The staff members moving the Imperial Army troops in real time as they received news from the front.

"Our troops are across the bridge. We've taken out the APC's and the anti-aircraft position," one of the staff members said as he pushed a model tank across the bridge. The generals murmuring to each other reacting to the battle in real time, as sitting above all of them on an elevated surround was their Sovereign, just as interested in the intricacies of the battle as the rest of them.

The door into the hallway was slowly pushed open as a servant with a phone on a tray made his way around the edge of the room, avoiding the generals and their staff and making his way to the throne. "My Empress, Empress Yauhmi of Xiomera is on the line," he whispered.

The Empress first nodded and motion for him to set it down on the table next to her throne. Not taking those emerald eyes off the map, she picked up the phone.

"...Empress. It's good to hear from you."

"It is good to be speaking with you as well, God-Empress," Yauhmi said warmly. "We haven't had a chance to speak since I was in Shen. I felt that I should contact you, what with the terrorist situation taking place affecting both our nations."

"Yes...I'm watching it unfold right now. My troops are currently engaged in the battle for Freeborn," she replied back, finally taking her attention away from the map. "And yes, we have not. Although you have been quite busy. Your International tour has nabbed you several headlines in the Shen media. I hope you had as much fun as you look like you had."

"The trip abroad was definitely entertaining, and also productive for Xiomera, which was even better from my viewpoint," Yauhmi replied. "Given the tendency of certain leaders, such as Foley Sakzi, to impugn Xiomera's reputation, a bit of diplomacy was definitely needed. Speaking of which....I would like for Xiomera to help more in this situation in Vulkaria. That's something we should consider."

The warm lips of the empress curled into a smile as she heard that, bringing her attention back to the map, looking at the small wooden figures with the red flag of Xiomera, marking their position.

"I would like that. I sent over 4 brigades. 20,000 of my sons and daughters to fight this war. I intend to avenge the loss of the Ambassador as quickly as I can."

"That is very much understandable. Xiomera is willing to join this coalition that has formed to fight the M.L.F. and to contribute a much larger force than the relatively small unit of special forces we have deployed up to now. However, to be blunt, we know that certain members of said coalition will not be excited by the idea of Xiomera participating. Perhaps this is something your commanders can bring up as a way of allowing us entry," the Empress added.

"You want General Chang to talk with the Zamastan leadership? Smooth out any wrinkles before they roll out the red carpet for your army? I can have the general do that as soon as we take this city."

"That would be ideal. They definitely seem to trust the Shen more than they do Xiomerans. A bit of smoothing over would allow us to be a lot more helpful on the ground," Yauhmi replied.

"A mixture of being good neighbors... and refusal to leave their 1 victory over us in the past has always allowed us to have a certain level of friendship...all right. Of course I'll have General Chang discuss this. After the joint exercises I'm sure my own troops would have better morale if they knew their allies were fighting with them in significant numbers."

"It would improve our morale as well, and also make the task at hand much easier for everyone. Your intervention is most appreciated. I am glad that our countries can fight this menace together," Yauhmi said.

"There's no one I would rather have by my side. Although I have to admit the Maximusians have been extremely courteous. My mother bought us a considerable amount of goodwill siding against their separatists in the 90s."

"My husband's predecessor did the exact opposite, siding with the separatists. It was one of the reasons my husband was able to replace him," Yauhmi recalled with a slight chuckle. "I imagine the Maximusians are not quite as fond of us. Perhaps this is an opportunity to fix that."

"One of the many reasons my mother and the man who ruled before your Dynasty never could see eye-to-eye," she said, chuckling back. "I feel like this is an opportunity for many new friendships to be formed. That's why I was so quick to join. there's an old saying that a friendship forged in blood is harder than iron."

"That is a very good saying. And I agree, this is an opportunity on many levels. Our military hasn't fought an actual war in decades, and some real-world experience is necessary. But ideally, if this mutual effort helps improve relations in the long run, that experience will hopefully never need to come into play," Yauhmi said.

"I wish my history was so peaceful. I'm sending the parts of my Army that have the most experience dealing with these kind of separatist terrorists. The Red Banner armies put down revolts in Septas and upper Monagon. They are my best troops outside of my Imperial Guard."

Yauhmi's voice took on a pleased tone. "Working with such experienced soldiers will be quite beneficial then. So far, we've sent a brigade of our special forces, which are quite skilled and experienced. Our regular army, however, could do with knocking the rust off their tanks a bit," the Empress replied. This was, of course, just an expression; Xiomeran soldiers would be mortified if their equipment wasn't in top shape.

"It'll be useful for my troops to see yours in action as well. Considering if everything goes according to plan, they'll soon be carrying the same rifles and armed with much of the same equipment. This will be even more beneficial to the mutual strength of our armies then ours training exercises."

"This is very true. That mutual experience working with each other and with similar equipment will really accelerate the process of learning how to coordinate our forces," Yauhmi replied.

"As much as I hope that this doesn't become a regular occurrence, it'll be good to have our army serving together. If anything happens on this continent, we will both be dragged into it."

Yauhmi sighed. "Indeed. And as much as I hate the idea of that possibility, it is far better to be prepared for it than not." The Empress allowed her voice to take on a bit more confidence. "I am confident we will face those challenges and prevail, however. I probably shouldn't keep you much longer from your generals, however. Is there anything else we can help with in the meantime?"

"Not that I can think of. No. But you are right, I must return to my generals. Specifically getting in contact with General Chang. Until next time, Yauhmi."

"I look forward to the next time we speak. Until then, though, have a good evening and take care, and always remember that I am available if you ever need anything."

"Yes, of course. If I ever have a problem, i will contact you. Goodnight, my friend."

[Libertas Omnium Maximus]

Near Freeborn, Vulkaria
January 6th, 2019 - 3:15 PM

When Alpha Squadron finally found the AA gun they realized that they should have called in more backup. Nothing could have been more clear to Sergeant Weaver as he looked upon the truck that was carrying his target. The truck was parked in a field about ten meters from a small dirt road. Weaver's squadron was camped out about 300 meters away from this field, obscured from enemy view by thick shrubbery. Around the truck were at least half a dozen soldiers, each armed with heavy weaponry. This wasn't going to be easy.

"What's the play, sir?" Private Anders asked impatiently. "It's clear that Echo Squadron isn't going to make it. I'm guessing they couldn't hold off the terries."

Sergeant Weaver stroked his beard, deep in thought. He exhaled slowly, visibly distressed by the situation, before responding.

"Private, I think you are right. We are on our own. I count about eleven terries. We have the element of surprise but.... I'll be honest, I don't think it would be wise to engage all of them simultaneously."

Weaver lifted a pair of binoculars and surveyed the enemy encampment one final time.

"Ok, Here's the plan..."

The men eagerly snapped to attention. They were all ready to fight. One could see it on their faces.

"Vincent, I want you to make your way down to that boulder about 150 meters to our right side. When I give the signal, I want you to take out the insurgent in the cab of the truck. Our first priority is making sure that the truck doesn't bolt when we engage them. After you neutralize him, start targeting any insurgent hanging around the truck. I need a clear path to the AA guns. Understood? Move out, soldier. I need you in position before we can begin our engagement."

Private James Vincent nodded before grabbing his rifle and beginning to make his way down the slope-side.

"Anders, I want you and Peters to move around the left side of this field and engage them from long range via the road. Use your frag grenades if the opportunity arises. Our aim is maximum terrie casualties. They will fight to the death if you don't put them down immediately.

The rest of us are going to attack head-on. Preston, the second you find cover I want you providing us with suppressive fire. At relatively close range it will be highly effective. Jackson, you're with me. We are headed straight for the truck. Our first objective is going to be clearing the area of hostiles. Then we can work on disabling the missile system. Understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" The soldiers all shouted in response. They then snapped to attention, were dismissed by a salute, and began moving into position.

5 minutes, 30 seconds later

Everyone was in position. Weaver gripped his rifle tightly before coming out of his army crawl and into a crouching position next to Jackson and Preston. He inhaled deeply. This was it. Nervously, the sergeant lifted his hand in the air.

"Engage. Engage now!"

Bullets began to rip through the air from all angles as Weaver and his crew opened fire on the terrorists. A splatter of blood across the windshield of the truck confirmed that Vincent's first shot had landed its mark. A grenade detonated on the ground, knocking two soldiers onto the ground.

Time seemed to slow down as Weaver began sprinting towards the truck. It was almost as if he could see the bullets shooting up dirt as they missed their mark. Weaver lifted his rifle and fired a quick burst off. He knew from the moment that he pulled the trigger he was about to kill an insurgent. He could tell by the way the bullets seemed to travel his exact planned trajectory.

Suddenly, Weaver was pulled out of his trance by a blinding light that erupted from the ground in front of him. A flash-bang, how could I be so stupid?! Weaver cursed his own stupidity as his vision began to go from white to black and his hearing cut out. He dropped to the ground, probably as a result of stepping in a hole, and felt his rifle fly out of his hand.

Gradually, Weaver began to start making out shapes again. He could see his hands, stretched out before him, with increasing clarity now. The sergeant realized that he must press on now. Although highly disoriented, Weaver was able to stumble to his feet and pick up his rifle. He shuffled forward, acutely aware of the incredible ringing in his ears.

Weaver could see it now, just before him was the truck. He had managed to make it to his objective, despite being half blind and deaf. Feeling the cold metal against his skin, the sergeant slumped against the surface-to-air missile system and used it to prop himself up. He then surveyed the field.

The day was won. Weaver realized this with a start as his sight began to fully return. All around him were the bodies of his enemies, some huddled in a ball while others were spread-eagle on the ground. The sergeant felt a rough arm lift him to his feet.

"Sir!" said the voice. "The area is secure. We have the terries all eliminated. It's over. We have completed the objective!"

Weaver nodded, finally beginning to hear properly. He then lifted his radio and shouted into it the phrase he had been desperately praying to be able to say all day:

"This is Alpha Squad. We have captured the missile-system."


Nearly 7 kilometers north of his location, Maximusian forces began their assault on Freeborn.

[Zamastan]

Into Freeborn: Part II

Monday, January 6th, 4:45 PM
Freeborn, Vulkaria

Another blast erupted on the street as the men hunkered behind abandoned vehicles and walls of Freeborn’s multistoried complexes. Two Zamastanian soldiers rushed out into the open and exposed road as others provided covering fire from the safety of their concrete structures. A screaming soldier laid on the ground, covered in dust and blood, as his comrades grabbed his arms and dragged him to the safety of the bricked wall and bullet casings exploded on the asphalt around them. One soldier, carrying a shoulder mounted system, launched a rocket propelled grenade into the second floor of a building from which the squad was taking fire. The facade erupted in a darkened blast of stone and brick blocks, spraying the street further in debris and silencing much of the gunfire and grenade blasts from enemy fighters.

“Colonel,” a soldier shouted, “half a block! The turret is around this corner on the right.”

“Keep moving! Get medics up here to tend to our wounded, we have to take out that turret. It’s the last one in the residence areas of the city.”

The troops picked themselves up from their hunkered positions, firing once more in the direction of some of the incoming fire from scattered cover ahead of them, and they began running towards the intersection in the road leading to the warehouse. Upon turning the corner, the soldiers once again took cover, seeing the groups of huddled terrorists guarding the anti-air turret begin to react as their remaining comrades from the now battle-damaged street were crawling and running injured in their direction. A few well placed rifle shots dropped the enemy fighters to the ground and some targeted grenade tosses from the Zamastanian soldiers erupted next to the turret, causing a massive explosion that rocked the parking lot. As the troops secured areas around the remains of the turret, Colonel Marsh called over the radio to the forces waiting on the other end of the bridge.

“Anti-aircraft turret is disabled! Reinforcements need to begin their move into the city.”

The outskirts of Freeborn
“Yessir,” Commander James Greshen replied through the radio coms, “we’ll begin moving now.” Greshen signaled with his hand to the lead APV, and the armored vehicles and columns of troops began their march once again, this time across the bridge and into the center of the city.

As the forces progressed, they encountered minimal resistance, but whatever terrorist insurgents they found were quickly defeated or turned tail and retreated. As they entered the center plaza of the city, however, the battle began to turn more fierce.

An APV paused at the intersection of Freeborn’s Landrie Square, swiveling its turret to meet incoming fire from heavily dug in trenches of enemy combatants. The APV’s guns unloaded in blasts of hot air and caused the entrenchments to erupt in the puffs of sand and dirt and rock. Zamastanian troops flooded into the square on their APVs, shielding themselves behind their heavy metal armor.

For a few moments, it seemed that the insurgents were completely boxed in, with only two of the eight streets leading into the square being open for them to escape. However, the sudden appearance of an apparently commandeered Vulkarian Army tank with M.L.F. fighters hanging from the side, hooting and hollering their war cries, changed the tone. One shot from the tank’s cannon blasted through one of the APVs. A few well placed turret shots from the remaining vehicles put the tank out of commision, and thanks to the absence of the M.L.F.’s anti-aircraft weaponry within the city, an airstrike in the heart of the city square sent the vast majority of resisting insurgents leaving their protected dugouts and fleeing. Most were picked off by Zamastanian firepower, and the stragglers either surrendered or kept running. The city of Freeborn was captured, but the outskirts to the north and west were open for the terrorists to flee.

“Alert the Shen army,” Commander Greshen ordered, “they have to be ready for a possible retaliation strike by M.L.F. retreating fighters.”

[Shen]

Greshen message had arrived to the Northern and western troops. They had dug in, preparing for the terrorist to come to them. Training there self-propelled ARtiarlly pieces of the roads, waiting for the masses of men to swell forth from the captured city, and surrender on mass to the numerically superior shen troops, safe behind there defensive positions.

The first MLF troops, crawling out of there own burning defensive positions, encountered the shen troops.

They men behind there barricades, shouted down at the terrorists, offering them a chance at life. They could surrender, return home after the war, and begin to rebuild.

The masses of men did not seem moved by the offer of peace. A hard life in Vulkaria having radicalized, finding death a preferable alternative to living under the isolating meaninglessness that was found under capitalism. The mear thought of living just one more day as a wage slave to the owning class, driving all sense of self-preservation from ther mind.

The MLF troops, knowing that this would be their last chance, to inflict any damage on the enemy, chose death. Deciding that the few square feet that would be stained red by there blood would be a small victory, towards there goal of painting the entire globe that glorious scarlet hough. And so they charged. Charged like it was a battle from long ago.

They had closed within 2 clicks of the shen positions, when the empire responded to there charge.

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Charged teh 400
“Forward, for the MLF!
Charge for the shen!” he said.
Into the valley of Death
Charged teh 400.

“Forward, our red Brigade!”
Was there a man dismayed?
though the soldier knew
Someone had blundered
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to fight and die.
Into the valley of Death
Charged the 400 .


Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
Boldly they charged and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of hell
Charged the 400.

The sky roared forward, as they were just a click from the shen.

Finally, the shells started to reight down.

Artirally finding there marks. Blasting entire squads with singe shots. Tearing through each man with a hot blast of shrapnel.

The fire explosions tearing apart men, evaporating their blood and cracking their bones to dust.

For 10 minutes, the sky, clear of clouds, thundered with man-made steel, whistling through the air, before colliding into the ground, and sending a blastwave out.

10 long minutes, where the wounds of gunfire did not stop. Where the cannons kept roaring, where shen small arms fire kept blazing.

When the guns finally went silent, and piles of spent ammo casings, pilled high, with smoke slowly rising off of them where left strewed over the battlements, the shen troops finally moved out from there cover.

Slowly walking over the pile of corpses, that would never be identified.

In this gruesome horror, the imperial troops, let out a desperate sigh.

They had won this battle. Won it with there cannons far out of range. And yet there victory felt so hollow.

They were able to destroy the enemies, but this victory tasted only of ash.

They had won a hollow victory, in which their opponents had shown that they were willing to die.

It was going to be a blood campaign.

[Shen]

Coalition headquarters Vulkar.

Captain Wu, followed behind General Chang as he made his way towards the conference room where they would be planning the next operation, now that freeborn was secured.

" our troops to the north have reported some small engagements. Apparently the terrorists did attempt to break our Siege as you said they would" the capt said, as he walked behind the general

the older man nodded as he ignited his cigarette " as predicted. now we must talk about what to do next. But first I have to talk with General Reynolds. Your aunt has instructed me talk to him about this as soon as the city was Secure"

Capt. Wu nodded in affirmation, before he stepped in front of the general pushing the door open as he walked into the briefing room

General Reynolds was sitting behind a desk, going over some papers. As soon as the two shen officered entered, he stood up,

"General Chang, Captain, I don't think I summoned you..."

" you did not. But I have a matter of great importance to discuss with you" the Imperial officer said as he stepped forward. Dropping his cigarette in a glass of water and standing up straight as he began to speak

"...on the subjects of the Xiomerans"

Reynolds sighed, looking down at the floor with a clear look of disdain on his face.
"First off, that was my water, General. Second, I don't take kindly to the Xiomerans, as you damn well know. We gave them intelligence on Bryn Matteo because we didn't have our own forces in the region. It wasn't particularly a decision that I was fond of making, but my commanders insisted. I'm glad it worked out well this time, but what happens when they use their privileges here in Vulkaria to mount prodding against us Zamastanians?"

The general let out a sigh. He had dealt with men like this before and it was not easy for them to lower their guard and accept an enemy as an ally

" General Reynolds they were attacked as well. They have just as much right to coordinate with the rest of us to make sure this operation is a success. We all are here Seeking Justice for what has happened. As for them.... prodding against your nation... that seems unlikely. joining the Coalition under those false pretenses would violate their sense of Honor"

"What are you proposing, General Chang?" Reynolds replyied, crossing his arms and looking down at the shen officer

" I'm proposing that you allow them into this Coalition on the same grounds as everyone else. Simple as that"

T
The Zamastinian General looked awy from the general, turning to the officer behind him, adressing his subordinate.

"Captain, am I reading your insignia correctly?

Captain wu looked up " sir?" The captain said confused that he had been called on

" um... what do you mean sir?"

“I just want to be sure I'm not misreading your insignia. You are a captain, correct?"

The captain look towards the general and the two exchanged confused glances. General Chang gave him a nod and he looked back towards the commanding officer nodding

" yes General Reynolds. Im Captain Wu. I'm part of General Chang's staff"

"Pleased to meet you, Captain Wu. How long have you been on the General's staff?"

"...i..." he took a deep breath and stood up straight " I was assigned to the generals staff at the start of this operation, sir"

"So you've only just now been introduced to this country?"

" yes sir. This is my first time in vulkar." He said growing a little nervous at the generals line of questioning

By this time change was growing tired of the questioning, he interupted Reynolds interrogation


" General Reynolds can I ask what the purpose of questioning the newest member of my personal staff is?" General Chang said somewhat miffed at this confusing line of questioning aimed at his subordinate



Reyonolds did not turn his gaze from the captain as he spoke
"I want to be sure, General Chang, that your staff is aware of the hardships of the Zamastanian struggle in Vulkaria. A struggle that hasn't plagued the Shen people until this past week. A struggle that hasn't involved your people until this past week. Zamastanians have fought and died here since 1982. A nearly forty year long struggle, and we're back here to end it. For good.

Frankly, I disagreed with the President's decision to allow you or the Maximusian or the Shuellian or the Eirians or any other country on board with this Coalition for the purpose that none of you have experienced this struggle quite like us. Now that you're here, you play by our rules. The only reason your troops are here is because President Brooks and President Sakzi requested foreign support. Any leeway you have is by the Vulkarian government's grace alone.

And so, General, this line of questioning your staff is this: what makes you think you have claim to tell me to bring the Xiomerans into this coalition when you, and your brand new staff, have barely seen blood spilled?"

The almost black lumps of coal the general had from eyes were suddenly lit on fire. He stared right into Reynolds soul. Keeping his lips curled into a look of contempt at the claim that he had barely seen blood spilled.

The captain spoke up before the general could. Drawing Reynolds attention towards those hypnotic emeralds.

" General Reynolds, I am part of the staff not because of my experience with this country but because of my experience fighting terrorists. You claim we have barely seen blood spilled yet almost every Soldier we have sent is a veteran of our conflict against the separatists in our country. we have defeated threats like the MLF before. we know what it's like to spill blood in what seems like endless Wars. And ultimately come out Victorious and return Wayward provinces to a state of Orthodoxy. With the separatist movements alive and well within the Xiomeran nation, they also have experienced fighting this kind of War. fighting terrorism and Insurgency. They have already made it clear that they intend to fight for justice for their people. It is illogical to not allow them to coordinate fully to maximize the effectiveness of their troops"

Reynolds fianlly looked down towards Change


"He's clearly very new, isn't he, Chang?"

"... I apologize for my subordinate speaking out of turn. The Empire is here to put a final nail in the coffin of a terrorist group whose very existence has clearly become an intolerable obstructions to the peace and stability we all seek. We have agreed to follow your lead in this conflict because we understand you have fought here longer than any of us. "


Reynolds turned back towards teh grandchild of a ‘living god’

"Then, let me say this. Xiomera will be allowed into this coalition. But, the condition is that they answer directly to me. Not you, not General Chang, and not anyone in your army. They answer to me and my generals."

" did anything I say implied that they were going to be under my command? " the General said arching his eyebrow

he shook his head in we just moved on

" of course General Reynolds. I will inform, General Thanexcel"

"I want an open channel between the three of us. You, me, and Thanexcel. Step cautiously, General. I have a war to win, and even with your help, I'm cautious of everything. You're dismissed."

The general stepd out of hte room.

Wu was expecting to be yelled at, but insted he got a calm comment from his commander

“....an ally you cannot trust is less the usless ….he is a liability”

The coal eyes of Change, and teh emeralds eyes of wu met for a moment, as they walekd side by side

“ if General Reynolds does not learn to trust his allies, then he will lose this war. Maby not on the battlefield, but that is no where wars like this are won”

“...where are they won sir?”

“Wars like this are won not with weapons….but poltics…defeating hte MLF on the battlefeild will mean nothing, if we do not win the war on there ideology, and stop people from turning to it”

[Arcadia Dazeber]

Godenia, Vulkaria, FOB
January 10, 2020, 15:00 hours

Major General Alfred walks into the command center he's expect the Byzonica General Staff in room to discuss the plan of attack to take the city of Werrina. The primary objective of the offensive, instead he's presented with a more grand opportunity.

Alfred walks into the command center.

"CO on deck!," a soldier yelled at attention saluting Alfred along with others including his own staff.

"At ease," said Alfred in a calm voice.

The soldiers go back to there posts and continue there own business as Alfred begins his discussion with two of his senior officers Colonel Paul Becker and Lieutenant Colonel Heinz Vin Rudolph waiting for the Alfred to say something.

"Welcome to Vulkaria gentleman, it's going to be a hell of a fight againist these terrorists dogs isn't it?," says Alfred

"Indeed, sir," states Heinz.

"Alright, Would you please tell me what's going on'" asks Alfred.

Paul points to a map and images of drone and satellite of Werrina, on the map it shows strategic positions the enemy has took to make the city into a fortress that would last months. in Godenia, about 12,000 Arcadia-Dazber and 4,000 Byzonica.

Alfred walks into the command center.

"CO on deck!," a soldier yelled at attention saluting Alfred along with others including his own staff.

"At ease," said Alfred in a calm voice.

The soldiers go back to there posts and continue there own business as Alfred begins his discussion with two of his senior officers Colonel Paul Becker and Lieutenant Colonel Heinz Vin Rudolph waiting for the Alfred to say something.

"Welcome to Vulkaria gentleman, it's going to be a hell of a fight againist these terrorists dogs isn't it?," says Alfred.

"Indeed, sir," states Heinz.

"Alright, Would you please tell me what's going on'" asks Alfred.

Paul points to a map and images of drone and satellite of Werrina, on the map it shows strategic positions the enemy has took to make the city into a fortress that would last months. However there are flaws with in a fortress that can be identified and explotited.

"These devil's managed to dig there boots in deep at Werrina, according to Intel the command center is located in this hotel. The enemy command center is fortified, however we do have an opportunity here."

"What you mean?," asks Alfred.

"We have a opportunity to capture a certain individual who is somewhere in the city and we believe that he has ties to the M.L.F inner circle. If we can get to the bastard before he escapes, we can capture him and take him into custody," replys Paul.

"An opportunity like this is rare, but I wouldn't expect it to be so easy. Why would a person with ties to the M.L.F command structure be sent to the frontlines?"

"Probably the fool wants personal glory," Heinz chuckles.

"Well, if it's personal glory then he's is a fool," Alfred replys.

"Anyway I want to show this photo we manage to take."

Paul shows a photo of a group of armed men transporting an unknown container along with cargo. He's with two other M.L.F soldiers probably high rank Alfred thought to himself. The others don't look like M.L.F probably V.N.A? His mind races as he puzzle's to pick up the pieces.

"Who are these men transporting the cargo? they don't look like M.L.F or V.N.A," says a questioned Alfred.

"There B.O.R.A, sir," replys Paul answering Alfred's question.

"B.O.R.A? Why would they be so close to the Frontline?," asks Heinz interrupting Alfred before he gets a chance to speak.

"We don't know. We do have a man inside there operation apparently this individual is close to B.O.R.A high command."

"So, let's go get him! If we can capture him, we can find more information about there operation, and what cells they could possibly have around the world." demands Heinz.

"But, what you saw in the photo that container could be biological. they might or could possibly be planning an attack. We must intercept this cargo before they could use it on civilians."

"Sir, we have two squad's of Red Wolfs on standby there currently awaiting the order to move, and intercept the cargo just give us the word." says Paul

"No, we must go after this man, the cargo can come second,!" Heinz argues.

"The decision is clear we must go after the cargo, I don't want to endanger the lives of civilians."

"But...sir."

"The cargo comes first, if we intercept the cargo maybe we can pinpoint the origin of the chemicals, perhaps get a lead on our special individual." replys Alfred.

Heinz takes a minute to calm down.

"Yes, sir. My apologies I wasn't thinking straight."

"We must find out where B.O.R.A is transporting the cargo, if we can find it we can intercept, if we can intercept we can ambush them and retrieve the cargo along with any information. Understood!"

"Deploy the Red Wolfs to intercept the cargo" ordered Alfred, "and the get ready to move out the division, we're going to teach these terrorists the true meaning of warefare.

"Yes, sir!"

[Vulkaria]

“There was no terrorist attack!” President Farhen Brooks tells reporter. “The Malvarean Liberation Front was exterminated, in a battle that we lost many soldiers and innocent civilians in. These attacks are clearly being perpetrated by Zamastan using old M.L.F equipment that they had acquired in the old war.”

“But, President why Zamastan, our ally, commit this horrific and heinous attacks on itself and others and blame the M.L.F.?”

“Because the Kas-Melville Canal would weaken the control they have over the Olympic-Promethean Trade Route“

*TV cuts back to news anchor*

“That is statement our President made concerning recent news of M.L.F.’s reemergence. However, one of our sources

[Shen]

Shen HQ, vulkar. Wensday, January 7th

General Chang slowly pushed open the door into his personal apartment inside is Command Center. The old Aristocrat had brought with him the pleasures of Home including a crate full of books as well as his personal dining set. His servants were quickly setting up at his table as he smelled a fresh meal being prepared for two in the kitchen.

" General Sir" one of the servants says standing at attention at the entered

" are we ready for a guest?"

" yes sir"

" good. Send them in as soon as he arrives. No waiting"

the two servants nodded. One of them exited out into the main hallway while the other one went into the kitchen.

The general himself turn towards a mirror fidgeting with a few things on his uniform to make sure everything was perfect

Brigadier General Tlanexchel had arrived at the Shen HQ in high spirits. This was due to a couple of reasons.

One reason was that the evening was a chance to renew his acquaintanceship with Chang Fenhau. Tlanexchel had met the Shen general 15 years prior, as part of the ongoing officer exchange program between the two countries. They had remained friends since then, but hadn't actually seen each other in person for some time due to the requirements of duty.

Tlanexchel was also eager because he remembered that unlike the Jaguar Warriors, who tended to travel in an almost spartanlike way, General Chang tended to travel in a more comfortable fashion. Dinner would undoubtedly be better than the standard Imperial rations back in Godenia.

But most of all, Tlanexchel knew that General Chang had spoken with the Zamastanian commander about Xiomera's entry into the coalition. The Xiomeran general was quite curious about how that conversation had taken place.

Tlanexchel was welcomed warmly upon his arrival at the Shen HQ and escorted to the Shen general's quarters. While waiting, Tlanexchel paused to look at his own uniform. It would not do to have anything out of place or imperfect.

The Xiomeran General was given an official Bow by the two Soldiers serving as the generals official guard before they open the door allowing Thlanexchel to walk inside.

" Thlanexchel." A calm and happy voice spoke out as a soft smile came onto the lips of do usually stoic man. He stepped forward but instead of bowing he extended his arms offering his old friend a hug.

" it has been too long my friend. How are you?"

Tlanexchel smiled in turn, clapping his arm enthusiastically around Chang. "It has indeed been too long." The Xiomeran smiled as he stepped back after the hug. "Life has been interesting, but in my line of work it always is. You know that as well as anyone," he laughed. "What about you? It looks like life has been treating you well."

The lauphter was returned enthusiastically as the Elder of the pair directed The lifelong Warrior to his seat before sitting across from him.

As was tradition when Great Men met General Chang poured out a cup of tea for his friends before pouring one for his own.

" it has indeed. My eldest son just gave me my third grandchild, before the campaign started" he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone. ( Xiomeran designed, shen built, like most of the smartphones used by Imperial officers and bureaucrats ). His screensaver had already been changed to a picture of a picture of a baby. " my daughter by law named him Fenhau. What an honor"

he let his friend hold the phone as he took his first sip of the cup of tea

" what about your family?"

Tlanexchel smiled widely at the picture. "That's a blessing, to have so many grandchildren. My two kids never seemed motivated to have many kids of their own. I still just have the one grandchild. But my family is well. My son is actually serving with the 1st Fleet, so he's out here too. My daughter...she's still with ISTC," he said, shaking his head in bemusement that one of his children had become a businesswoman instead of a soldier. "She aspires to become a CEO someday. I wouldn't be surprised if she pulls it off," Tlanexchel said, before sipping his tea in a reasonably accurate and polite imitation of the Shen way.

" if she is as ambitious as she was as a little girl then I am certain she will succeed." Fenhau replied.

Each of his five children had chosen their own path only one had waltzed into the private sector. now some low-ranking executive with the United industrial Holdings company, no doubt rewarded more because of his parentage than his own personal prestige

Just as he set down his cup of tea the door to the kitchen opened up with one of his servants walking over and sitting down two bowls. Each containing bowls of spice noodles.

The first course.

" when I heard that you were going to be the one they sent I made sure to bring along all of the foods that you have no doubt missed since living in shen. Our main course is going to be Biaking duck. Made just the way you like it. "

Tlanexchel's smile grew even wider. "I am impressed by your memory as always. And you're right, it's been quite a while since I've had true Shen cuisine. We have quite a few restaurants serving Shen dishes in Xiomera now - it's become very popular. But it's naturally not the same," Tlanexchel added before sampling the noodles.(edited)

" I've always been taught the importance of remembering the little details." he said as he also took a bite of the noodles.

" oh yes I remember reading about the increasing number of shen expatriates opening up restaurants in Xiomera. Can't say I've had the pleasure of trying them since usually when I find myself in Tlālacuetztla is his own official business with a very tight schedule. I can assure you that my personal chef can out cook any of them"

"I can confirm that," Tlanexchel replied with another laugh as he had more of the noodles. "These are really very good." He sighed slightly. " I know how you feel about tight schedules. It seems like the higher one goes in life, the rarer it is to just have time to oneself."

" unfortunately you are right. I haven't been to my family estate in months. I fear i won't be able to spend an extended period time there until I retire. It almost pains me thinking about my library collecting dust. "

The door opened again with the servant returning with the next case. This time a wooden box filled with steamed dumplings.

Change wasted no time using his Chopsticks to grab one

" thanks fully my work offers me a more than adequate distraction. This war has given me much to think about"

"I think that's true for all of us," Tlanexchel said, taking a dumpling as well. "I was honestly surprised that the new Empress decided to keep us here after we neutralized Sulsi. I never suspected her to be the sort to order overseas operations. But it's a good thing she did. We need the experience, and we might be able to help our allies."

" perhaps she wants to demonstrate that Xiomera, is willing to operate outside of her borders. I on the other hand expected a shen deployment as soon as i heard about the attacks. Wu Zhao is living in the shadow of her mother. She must start earn her own place in the people's eyes as well as begin to build her own prestige. A large military commitment to this conflict as well as a victory, gets her International Acclaim and Prestige at home. Her own mother set the tone for her own rain in a not dissimilar way when our military intervened in rhand. "

"That makes sense. I imagine our own Empress is doing much the same, trying to earn her own place on the stage. Xiomera is doing the same thing as well, trying to establish its place on the international stage. But I suppose it doesn't matter too much; we have a mission to do no matter what."

" I like your attitude. I just wish the Zamastan was more appreciative of our help. After my conversation with the general it is apparent that not only does he not want us here but he plans on fighting this war the same way that the zamastan have for 40 years"

"Oh? Did he say that specifically?" Tlanexchel asked, seeming none too pleased with the idea.

" he did. He first said that you only wanted to participate so you could launch some sort of prodding action against zamastan. I cannot possibly see where he draws that logic from." the general grumbled slightly as he took another sip of his tea

" not only did he Express that paranoid viewpoint but he also openly disagreed with his commanders in the political leadership of his country. Maby it is part of the zamastan chatector... but I cannot imagine openly disparaging my commanders and their decisions. There is a time and a place for disagreement and discussion but it is certainly not in the presence of strangers"

"Especially not in front of strangers from the military command of a foreign country," Tlanexchel said, a surprised look on his face. "That's a rather open display of weakness on his part. That kind of dissension within their own ranks could partly explain why Zamastan has been trying for almost four decades to 'fix' Vulkaria, and has failed so spectacularly." Tlanexchel sighed. "If their own commanders on the ground don't even believe in the strategy and goals of their leaders, they will certainly fail time and time again to implement them."

Tlanexchel's expression darkened. "As for the part about not trusting our intentions....the Zamastanians have never trusted Xiomera, and I'm starting to wonder if they ever will. They seem to have an almost pathological dislike of us. Nevertheless, my Empress has ordered me to try to make this work, so I am bound to do so." Tlanexchel leaned closer to Chang. "We discovered some very interesting intelligence when we raided Dire Sulsi's compound. We had intended to share it with you, to pass on to the Zamastanians. But it may be better if we deliver it to the Zamastanians ourselves first. If we show some good faith, maybe that will allow the good General Reynolds to withdraw the swagger stick he has so firmly jabbed up his own rear end just enough to begin trusting Xiomera," Tlanexchel said with a boisterous laugh.

As his friend laughed Chang nodded his head and started to stroke his chin.

" General Reynolds seemed to believe that my desire to have Xiomera in the Coalition was part of some larger plot. He even reprimanded the empress's nephew, Captain Wu claiming that he wasn't allowed to lead your forces. As if you would ever let a meer captain run your army just because of his blood relations. It was a strange encounter. "

The door finally opened with one of the servants bringing out a plate of with one of the servants bringing out a plate with a large duck on it. He began to slowly carve it up cutting thin slices from the bird and placing them on a plate placing them on a bag of cut up Celery and pears.

"... it would probably be best if you brought the information to him yourselves. If I act as the go-between it will feed into his paranoia"

"Very good. We will make sure you're kept in the loop with whatever information we gather also - especially given the lack of cooperation we are both likely to receive from the Zamastanians." Tlanexchel paused a moment, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the duck.

The servant placed the plate of Juicy Savory meat in front of the two generals before retreating back into the kitchen

" yes. I hope the Maxians prove more open to cooperation." Chang said as he took the first piece of duct and quickly scarfed it down " mmmm. Delicious. Even if we are viewed as an unnecessary nuisance by the overall command structure at least we can coordinate while on the ground and Ensure an effective Battlefield strategy"

"Indeed. We're down to the south out of Godenia, so we can coordinate with you in the north and slam the terrorist bastards from both sides." Tlanexchel tried the duck, then closed his eyes with a contented sigh. "This is definitely better than the Shen restaurants back home. I have to find some way to get myself sent to Shen more often," he joked.

" if you find a way please share with me. Even I don't make it back to the Imperial City as often as I'd like these days. I won't be able to make it back there until this campaign is over and I make a report to the empress. Right now I'm going to recommend that the Empire not stay in this country for too long. If Zamastan is planning on fighting the war like this then this is not going to be a victory but merely a temporary ceasing of hostilities while the Communists rebuild their strength and try again. I do not believe they would be open to a political solution like what we did in Septas. "

Tlanexchel sighed. "I agree. We need to find a way to convince the enemy to drop their weapons of their own accord - we can't just kill everyone in Vulkaria, as much as the Zamastanians seem to think more with their guns than with their brains." Tlanexchel thought for a moment. "Finding some way to bridge the gap between a political solution and a military one is the only way we'll win this fight. Otherwise, everyone else is going to get tired of the situation, and withdraw, leaving the Zamastanians to get shot at alone here for another forty years."

" and with these terrorists showing they're clear intention to attack Nations far beyond their borders, that's an unsustainable situation. We will just be waiting for another attack. Right now I don't see a solution. We're ultimately under Zamastan overall command, and for the moment they don't seem to be interested in a political solution. Those enemy commanders that they are capturing and killing could be the tools to finding a lasting peace. But turning them into Martyrs isn't going to help accomplish that goal"

"Once we put this round of fighting to an end, we need to find a way to reach out to the locals and begin building a foundation for something resembling a lasting peace. Many of the people on the other side of this fight have to be as tired of it as the Zamastanians and Vulkarians are. Eliminate the hardcore terrorists, then reach out to the people who can be reasoned with." Tlanexchel had another slice of duck, then nodded. "Perhaps all of us in the coalition, together, can convince the Zamastanians to adopt a more logical course of action in time. Reynolds may not see it now, but all of us joining him in this fight may be the best thing that could've happened to him and his men."

" yes. I agree entirely. People do not pick up the sword and throw their life away for their beliefs easily. It is an act of desperation. we must create a political situation in this country where the terrorists feel like they do not have to resort to Violent means. Perhaps allowing them to become an official opposition party. or agreeing to certain levels of social reform to satisfy the moderate members and Rob them of support"

"Exactly. Without some measures to bring the two sides back together, this fight will never end. Let's hope we can convince them of that. The Empress wants to make a difference here, but will not be content to endlessly throw lives and treasure down a hole. There will have to be some light at the end of the tunnel."(edited)

" yes. I would never recommend continuing a war with no hope of victory. I care about my soldiers too much to throw their lives away in such a meaningless display" the general said as he ate the last piece of duct for his plate

"We both do. That's what makes us good generals," Tlanexchel said, finishing off the last of his duck with another contented sigh. "Any idiot can throw bodies at a problem. Let's just hope we're not being led by an idiot."

" I suppose we will find out. I just hope we do not find out too late."

The general brought his napkin up to his lips and wiped off the residue of the delicious duck

"... looks like everything was to your liking"

Tlanexchel grinned. "It was indeed. I have missed this kind of cooking." The Jaguar Warrior made use of his own napkin, before looking up at his friend. "We should discuss our thoughts with the other members of the coalition. It may be easier to present our concerns to the Zamastanians as a united front. They surely won't listen to me, at least."

" nor will he listen to me. But I'll speak with General Wallace. See if he has anything to add. You can bring it up with your fellow Commanders on your part of the line"

"That works," Tlanexchel said. "We're about to begin our operations down there, and quite a few more Xiomeran soldiers are about to arrive."

" good. If there's one thing I can rely on its the Jaguars demonstrating why they have earned their reputation"

"Oh, we will. We're getting a bunch of regular Army though, along with this new International Legion the geniuses in Tlālacuetztla dreamed up," Tlanexchel said, seeming amused. "They should be up to the task, but if they aren't, I'll fix that quickly enough."

" war is a rather effective Crucible for burning away the impurities of man and turning them into proper soldiers. I have no doubt that they will prove effective soldiers by the end of this campaign"

The waiter returns to the last time carrying two small bowls setting one in front of each of the generals. Their dessert. Red bean buns

Tlanexchel found himself once again impressed by his friend's wisdom. He hoped that Chang was right. The new Xiomerans would need a lot of firing in that crucible.

Tlanexchel also found himself quite pleased with the final part of the dinner. "Ah, this is a perfect conclusion to a perfect meal. I will need to return the favor and treat you to a proper Xiomeran meal soon."

" hopefully we can find the time. The Xiomeran fast food franchises opening up throughout the Empire May satisfy my grandchildren and my children's young stomachs. But they lack the delicate flavor of a home-cooked meal" change said as he ate the last course of the perfectly prepared meal

Tlanexchel nodded in agreement. "I find myself missing the proper flavor of home-cooked food as well. As you know, the Jaguar Warriors insist on a fairly strict regimen. But if time and circumstances permit, I will make sure we dine well, ideally in celebration of a conclusive victory here. Pre-prepared rations only do for so long."

" I don't think I could get my Army to March if I fed them a strict regimen. We all know a flag Army marches on its belly as the old saying goes. I suspect the Maxian troops will be sampling our rations during the next stage of the operation. " Shane said with a small smirk as his servant came in and collected the last plates finally clearing the table

" but I can think of no better way to celebrate victory, then a home-cooked feast"

"Indeed. Let's toast to that," Tlanexchel said, raising his glass. "To victory."

The general shook his head getting up and walking over to one of his storage crates

The general had a smirk on his lips as he pulled out a bottle of expensive tequila and two glasses. He walked back over to the table and set them down before cracking the bottle and pouring each a cup.

He raised one stop waiting for his friends to grab the other " to victory "

Tlanexchel couldn't help but smile as well at the sight of a well-known and high-quality Xiomeran brand, Itezli, on the bottle. Chang had learned Xiomeran culture very well.

The Xiomeran picked up his glass, clinking it against his friend's glass before downing the shot with a practiced ease. "I'm glad you didn't just bring tea," he laughed.
" I knew you wouldn't be satisfied ending the night with just a cup of tea"

And so the two generals drink of the expensive liquor. Ready to achieve a victory and bring glory to their empresses

[Zamastan]

January 22nd, 2020
Dosban Neighborhood, Amden

"We're pinned down," Greshen shouted over the radio as bullets and sparks ricocheted off the street pavement. The fighting so far had been too similar to Freeborn's fighting for the first several days. Zamastanian troops moved into the city of Amden on the 16th and faced very little resistance. It was only after moving about halfway into the city limits that the real fighting began. Companies of soldiers were surrounded at a time, pinning contingents of troops into the wider streets. Amden was a large city. 300,000 civilians lived there before the battle, but many had begun to flee. At the request of General Reynolds, Vulkarian battalions were now fighting alongside the Zamastanians, but casualties were mounting quickly.

Fighting was going on all across the city. The airport was under heavy rocket attacks and the main terminal was occupied by terrorists. The coalition was trying to secure it. Farther across the city, the main ferry ports along the river were being shelled, and Zamastanian gunships were spraying rounds to disperse terrorist gun emplacements. The industrial zones of the northern outskirts of the city were now burning, with dozens of massive smoke columns pouring into the sky.

Greshen and his men, however, were in the city's residential zones. The destroyed facades of buildings struck by M.L.F. rockets poured the roadways in rubble and made mobility difficult. The enemy was determined to destroy the city as they went, and the Coalition was struggling to stop them. "No collateral damage," demanded General Reynolds prior to the attack, but without airstrikes, it was impossible to fully flush out where the enemy was. Of course, no one wanted to destroy the city, but the repeated occurrence of sniper fire taking aim at the Zamastanians and occasionally blowing through their helmets, leaving another dead man on the ground, was getting to Commander Greshen.

He signaled back to his men further behind him, also covered behind rubble. He needed a sniper team to find the two terrorists pinning them down. A soldier named Harrison, skillful in his marksmanship, nodded to his commander and stood, running inside the destroyed lobby of what was once an apartment, and worked his way up the damaged staircase.

Laying down on the dampened floor and unsheathing the cover of his sniper rifle, he covered the front of his position with bricks and checked to assure his protection. Once secured, he aimed through the scope. From his third story vantage point, he peered down the street to where muzzle flash was erupting from a building's second story window. In the cross hairs, a man in a bandanna was staring through a modified rifle scope, shaking in recoil as each shot from his weapon erupted dust from his position. This enemy fighter was an amateur, but was firing enough and secured enough that he had kept the troops at bay and even taken out a few. A deep breath and exhale, and Harrison squeezed the trigger. A deafening crack shook his organs, and the enemy sniper snapped his head back in a puff of red. Watching for a few more moments, Harrison noted the man's motionless body, and moved to a different position to take out the last sniper.

Repositioning himself, the corner view of the opposite building revealed the wide open, city-scaped blue sky of Amden spanning across the Rinada river. Smoke billowed into the air, as two Zamastanian jets streaked behind it nearly a mile and a half away, dropping their payloads of one bomb each. The metal hunks of explosive fell quickly in the distance, and as they disappeared behind a row of apartments, they were followed by plumes of orange fire. Seconds later, the loud blast of the explosions reached Harrison's position.

Harrison looked away from the sight, focusing through his scope once again. Within the next few minutes, the Zamastanian troops in the street were moving, cautiously, amidst the rubble and once again advancing.

[Democratic Republic Of Eiria]

Lacarno Base HQ, Lacarno, Vulkaria

"Welcome, everyone. I am Field Marshall Oliver Mason-Pearce, the commander of the Legionite ground forces in this operation "

Lieutenat General Letālia Nodded at the Legionite Field Marshal. "Thank you. It is an honor to work with both of you, but I wish the circumstances weren't so grim. I am in charge of leading the 18,000 Eirian Troops stationed here".

"Indeed, have a seat".

The Sheullian leader spoke. "The honor's mine. I am Major General Koloman Strassburg, commander of the penal units assigned to Vulkaria."

"Ah, yes. Welcome Mr Strassburg. As Lt. General Letālia has said, it's unfortunate that we find ourselves here. Of course these terrorists must pay and, although lives will be lost, we must exact our revenge. I've had my aides print out detailed maps of the area and I've had a whiteboard brought in incase of anything. Please, have a seat Mr Strassburg. Now who'd like to start?".

The Lt. General Picked up a few of the maps, scanning them, nodding. "There is a lot of detail to these maps, I agree. One of our first concerns should be the Main Roads. They are critical, but they are most likely chalked full of IEDs. Do you gentlemen think we should avoid the main roads on the way to Masenma, or clear them out?".

The older man takes a seat, turning to look at the maps. "If I remember correctly, Zamastanian helicopters would be able to take us closer to Masenma, allowing us to bypass most of them. We have some EOD teams ready, if need be."

"Yes, of course although we may be unable to use our 'heavier machinery' effectively. Is there a possibility of traversing the land beside the roads?" the Field Marshall asked, while adjusting his spectacles

Letālià sat up in her chair. "Well, I agree with Commander Strassburg. Even though we won't have heavy machinery, it would save a lot of troops we can put against Masenma. After all, we need all we can get".

"Speed will also be an asset and the helicopters will be able to move the troops quickly. It's paramount that we don't lose any troops or equipment during the transportation, as the crash of a helicopter could lead to an ambush during the confusion." The Field Marshal added.

"Has intel revealed any anti-aircraft weaponry in the city?". Commander Strassburg inquired.

"If I am not mistaken, Zamastanian Intelligence did not find Anti-Air, although they do have Anti-Tank and mortars". She Glanced at the maps again. "If we can get more recon with Aircraft, that would be excellent. Not sure of bombing, though. It is an urban area with civilians present, after all". Letālia stated.

"Bombing would only result in insurgent propaganda. We do not currently have bombers stationed, in any case."

The Legionite Field Marshal added "Civillian casualties should be avoided at all costs, Vulkaria is a volatile area and we should avoid aggravating the population. Recon should be possible and easy to arrange".

Commander Strassburg nodded. "Agreed."

Letālia Sat back, looking at the two men and smiling. "Wow. I never thought I'd see the day where soldiers from nations as different as Eiria and Sheull are fighting Side by Side. It's a good sign of the future".

The Commander reaches into his flask and takes a swig from it. "Perhaps it is. Shard save us all."

The Field Marshal Shrugged. "Oh well, maybe the future is bright. I don't really like the way the world is moving forward today but that's another story." He lit up a cigar and continued, "I believe that the Legionite paratroopers will move after establishing a comms line with the others, and move south, while one paratrooper division will secure Sangra".

Strassburg nodded. "Understood. We can deal with their entrenchments until you arrive."

"Great, we'll be able to deal a decisive blow by hitting them from the rear".

The Lieutenant General spoke up. "Are You confident that your troops will be able to draw insurgent attention for the Legionites to Arrive, Commander?". She asked Strassburg.

"I am. What are they going to do, ignore us? If we aren't able to - the arrival of your soldiers should."

She nodded. "Fair Point. Well, gentlemen, I thank you again for your cooperation".

The Field Marshal Nodded. "Of course, hopefully this operation will be a stepping stone to finding Val'a Kamoni dead or alive. Would anyone like a drink?".

She Smiled. "I'd love one. Actually, If you'd like, I could run quick and get my stuff. I have a bottle of quality Spēce in my bags. Warning, it is strong. Should I grab it?".

"Yes, go for it, we could do a toast".

"Okay". She left for a minute, then came back, pouring Three glasses of a orange-red alcohol. "Would either of you like to toast?".

The Sheullian Commander Nodded. "I never say no to a toast."

The Field Marshal raised his glass. "Everyone loves a toast. I'd like to propose a toast to Freedom! and the Downfall of the M. L. F!".

"Down with the M.L.F!". The Eirian General drank, looking at her glass when she stopped. "I love this brand. They do very well balancing flavor and kick".

The Field Marshal looked into his glass, nodding in approval. "Where did you get this? This Spēce is really good, really gives you a kick and goes down well".

"Interesting drink. We don't have anything similar back home." Strassburg added.

"Whenever I come to Eiria, I'll need to find me some Spēce!" Mason-Pearce exclaimed.

"Thanks. One of the few things everyone can agree Eiria does right. Music, books, and Alcohol. Sounds like a Friday night back home, honestly".

"You can never go wrong with books, some good tunes and some great alcohol."

Letālia grinned. "I wholeheartedly agree".

"Damn, it's looks a bit late and I need to get some sleep. It was great meeting you guys and I hope we can do some good work together". The Field Marshal said, standing

Letālia and Strassburg stood as well. "Goodnight, Gentlemen". The Eirian said, nodding, and leaving, empty glass and remainder of the Spēce with her.

[Arcadia Dazeber]

Battle for Werrina: Part 1

January 12, 2020, 12:00 hours
Werrina, Vulkaria, Almar Hotel

"Get those civilians on those trucks", yelled a Sergeant as bullets fly and ricocheted off the truck, street pavements, and the front of the hotel. It was the second day of fighting in Werrina. Arcadia-Dazber troops along with Byzoncian and Xiomerians encircled the city on the first day. On the second day coalition forces manage to capture most the outer parts of the city, resistance in the city was slim, but as they push deeper into the inner parts of city fighting became more intense.

The city was the first target to the coalition stationed at Godenia taking Werrina would be the first step of the southern offensive the estimated force was 500-3,000 or perhaps lower, many in high command were optimistic "taking Werrina would be easy," and "wasn't an important city to the M.L.F and would be an easy victory," they we're mistaken.

The M.L.F had made the cities that border government control territory into front line cities, strongholds to prolong a siege, however many of these cities fell in a matter of days. When coalition forces near the Vulkaria capital manage to take freeborn the city was captured in a matter of days, but the fighting was still intense. In Werrina the sounds of bombs exploding, gunfire, even the screams of the wounded and dying could be heard as the sky continues to be filled up with thick black smoke as the fighting continues to occur.

The Captain's mission was to lead a group of twenty-five men into the hotel and capture it in order to establish an Outpost in the inner city, fighting to take the hotel was intense about two men were killed and another two wounded each floor of the hotel was cleared. During the sweep one of the soldiers found a two group's of civilians hiding in the basement, the soldier turned and looked at the Captain "what we going to do now, sir? We can't just leave them here."

The Captain looks at the people they are scared, terrified, afraid to even move a muscle or even say anything. "No, we're going to get them out of here, see if you can get anyone on the radio and tell them that we need an evac for these civilians," stated the Captain, "Yes, Sir!," the soldier replied. A Sergeant who was second in command of the mission came to the Captain and argued "This isn't part of the mission, Our job is to capture this hotel not evac civilians," he said, "I know, but we can't just leave them here. In the meantime get the men into defensive positions we have to hold out until evac arrives," ordered the Captain.

The M.L.F had launch a counter-attack to retake the hotel, one of the soldiers had be shot in the chest in an instant he fell laying down gasping for air. The Captain drags the wounded soldier into the hotel as bullets fire passed him "Where the hell is our evac?!," he yelled, "almost here, sir!," said a Sergeant, then two armored Humvee's along with the transport truck arrived.

"Ok, there's our evac, get the civilians onto the truck," ordered the Captain as he returns fire. Coalition soldiers quickly exit out of the vehicle, as men on the .50 Cals open fire on advancing M.L.F fighters. The civilians head to the transport quickly as possible, bullets fly by as they get onto the truck. The sergeant tells the driver to go, and he takes off speeding as he drives off away from the hotel. "Alright, there gone. Everyone continue to hold defensive positions!, Push these dogs back!," yelled the Captain as he gives the order to hold the line.

The battle would last for around two hours before the M.L.F abandoned the desperate assault on the hotel and retreated. In those two hours of fighting around five coalition soldiers would be killed, and four wounded. The engagement would be known to the veterans who fought in Werrina as the "Siege of the Almar".

As the fighting continues to rage on in Werrina a special operations unit's begins to close onto a compound of a valued target.

[Zamastan]

A President's Mind

Clouds hazed the recesses of memory. The feeling of smoke fogged the perceived sense of vision, as a strobing, pulsing red glare glowed through the thickening cover. Hands pounded against the glass shield of the box, smearing their fingerprints along the surface. The muffled screams of high-pitched voices shuddered the glass, and a crack emerged as the hands turned to fists. The glass suddenly shattered, the fists disappeared, and the mist pooled into the completely crisp black floor. Foley looked around in the void. There was nothing. Clenching his fists in reaction to the loneliness, he felt a squishing texture, looked down and saw blood covering his palms. Pouring from the crevices in his fingers, red liquid dripped obsessively to the floor.

A sudden flash of light, and before him stood a tall, stoic looking man with a gut. With a beard, rugged and torn suit, and a pair of sunglasses with a broken lens, Van’a Kamoni stared at Foley with a fire in his hatred filled eyes. Kamoni raised his left arm, producing a pistol with the chamber pointing directly in between Foley’s eyes. Foley couldn’t move. He felt himself overcome with dread. Foley squeezed his blood soaked hands closed, and Kamoni tightened his gaze. A blast of light, and Foley jerked back.

Foley sat up quickly, panting. He must’ve shouted in his sleep, as his wife Hannah was rolling over, palm to her face, murmuring.

“Foley, what is it?”

Foley steadied himself and slowed his breathing. Light calmly filled the room through the blinds of the Presidential Mansion’s bedroom window. Looking around, he noted that the faces of his children, Karina and Mylon, remained the same on their family portrait hanging across the room and over their dresser. Nothing had changed. The world was still the same. Just another nightmare.

“Nothing, Hannah,” Foley responded, softly. He lifted the sheets above his legs and swung them over the side of the bed, stretching his arms behind his head and cracking his spine. He let out a satisfied sigh and sat still, patiently looking towards the window. The air was warm today.

Hannah reached out and traced her fingers along Foley’s back, tapping gently against the two bullet scars that sat there as a present reminder of Foley’s injuries in the Battle of Amstelveen in 2004. “You had another nightmare, Foley.” Hannah looked at her husband. She was growing more and more concerned for her husband.

“It’s nothing I can control, sweetheart. I don’t dwell on them.”

“You whisper in your sleep.”

“I know.”

Hannah moved forward and sat next to her husband on the bed. “You’re whispering the kid’s names.”

Foley remained stoic. He didn’t know he was saying their names. His face didn’t show it, but he was struggling to keep in a protrusive frown.

Hannah breathed in, opening her mouth to say something, but paused, and sighed instead. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Foley.”

The two of them sat still in the warmth of the sun’s soft beams. Rarely did these moments reveal themselves to the Sakzi family.

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Thirty minutes later, President Foley Sakzi was seated in the situation room of the Zian Presidential Mansion. His generals and lead intelligence officers surrounded him, clamoring with papers and documents, as General Avery Reynolds and General Chase Lyons appeared on the monitor in front of them on a live feed from their headquarters in Vulkaria. An icon flashed next to Reynolds’ box, and the military men halted their quick paced organization and stood at attention as Reynolds began to speak.

“Mister President, our intelligence teams may have picked up on a trail regarding Van’a Kamoni.”

Foley again showed no overdramatic expression, but a shiver ran down his back and his hairs stood on end under his suit. “Elaborate, General.”

“Sir, we detected and began surveillance on a contingent of pickup trucks moving from Monza to Vilnotra. We know that Kamoni likely has compounds and safehouses across the coastal region of the conflict zone, but this convoy was not carrying heavy weapons, any viable shipments of crates or boxes, and no visible extensive insurgent presence. It just appears to be multiple vehicles with one or two riders each. Minimal security, no obviously visible target. Except for this…”

A screen image enhanced, showing a moving video of drone footage. Two pickup trucks were pulled off to the side of the road, and a man appeared to be relieving himself into the brush in the ditch. On the other side of the vehicle, four men with heavy firearms visible stood still and patient.

“This individual seen taking a “break”, sir, brought up curiosity. The drive between the two cities is short, only a max of ten minutes without interruption. We became suspicious when we noticed that there was no security in the convoy except for this one specific vehicle, which had at least four heavily armed men and one unarmed, slightly overweight individual who was apparently important enough to stop the convoy so he could do his business.”

“You think that man is Kamoni?” Foley asked, voice raised.

“We think, yes,” Reynolds replied. “His figure matches recent descriptions we’ve received from sightings of him. In addition, the weapons the four bodyguards are holding appear to be silver plated, which is part of his known preference for customization in his personal guard and armament.”

Foley leaned back, and for the first time in what seemed like a long time, he smiled. If this was Kamoni, the Zamastanians could finally have a hit on their long-time biggest enemy figurehead. Maybe it could also quell some of his nerves. “Did you track the convoy to any place in particular, General?”

“Yes, Mister President. A compound in Vilnotra. It’s on a cliff face overlooking the Bay of Kas. Before the 2017 insurgency started, it belonged to a multi-millionaire oil tycoon. Now, it’s a heavily fortified home.”

“Keep it monitored around the clock. I want drafts for an assault on my desk by noon.”

“Yessir, Mister President.”

“Dismissed, men.”

As Foley stood and left the room, entering the long hallway of the Mansion towards the front rotunda, he felt heavy. Kamoni was in his grasp. Now, all he had to do was not screw it up.

-
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-

The clouds came back, and Foley was standing on the top of a rock piercing through the endless void of darkness. On a rock adjacent to him stood his oldest child, his daughter Karina. Karina was looking down into the void, shedding tears. Foley reached for her, but the distance only grew further with each strain of the muscle to extend his fingers to her. Karina peered her head over to her father, and Foley’s heart sank. Van’a Kamoni materialized from the mist on the rock behind her, and with an evil, blood soaked smile, pushed his arm forward. Karina lost balance and began to plummet into the void. Foley was helpless to do nothing but watch and scream empty screams.

Foley slapped himself hard. He hadn’t even fallen asleep, he was at his desk in the Gaviria Room. Rubbing his palms into his eyes, he excluded a large moan and slumped back into his seat, rocking back and forth aggressively.

His phone buzzed, and it took a moment for Foley to react and open his screen. A message on the secure line from one of his generals showed a new surveillance image from the compound in Vilnotra. The man in the image was smoking a cigarette, wearing a ragged suit with a tear down one sleeve. Sunglasses, a fedora, and cargo shorts leaned against an armored sedan, his gut stuck out from underneath the unbuttoned garb. Kamoni.

“I’m going to kill this guy,” Foley growled under his breath.

[Zamastan]

The Statue

The strong Redeemer pine branches that extended over the Mansion’s rotunda from the trees only allowed wisps of light to seep through from the sun. Foley wandered down the pavement, birds chirping occasionally within the leaves. A small and gentle push of the breeze rested against his head. It was quiet except for that. No honking or bustling from the Tofino streets, everything was supernaturally quiet. Foley began to grow confused. From behind the sturdy base of a tree several dozen meters away, Hannah emerged. She was wearing a white, fleeced dress. She looked beautiful. But, she was alone. And the only person on the expansive Presidential lawn aside from Foley.

“Hannah,” Foley quizzed his wife softly, “where is everyone?”

Hannah turned around, looking at her husband. She cocked her head to the side, appearing confused. Suddenly a deafening blast, and Hannah’s dress ripped open in a flash of red. As blood pooled from the wound in her chest, she stared at her husband in horror as she crumpled to the ground. Behind her, Van’a Kamoni stood with a pistol raised at Foley, a smirk crossing his face.

Foley snapped awake. Another nightmare.

He went to the sink and splashed water in his face, rubbing a heated towel over himself to dry off. Looking back into the bedroom, Hannah was sleeping deeply under the sheets. Foley smiled sadly to himself. He knew that Kamoni would haunt him forever, but he wondered if it would ever leviate once the man was killed.

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The helicopter was in flames. After having been shot down by a M.L.F. shoulder-mounted rocket launcher, the helicopter plummeted into the ground and six of the ten soldiers aboard had been killed. The helmet footage from the battle was ferocious, as Zamastanian soldiers on the lines near the crash site rushed in to save their wounded compatriots and fight off the advancing insurgents. As tragic as the shootdown was, the heroism on display would serve to motivate the country. Foley clicked off the screen from the pad on his desk and stood, looking back at the window of the Gaviria Room and towards the skyline of Tofino. He had always stood for his people, and would always fight for them. He knew the sacrifices of his countrymen all too well. The bullet fragment lodged in his chest pained him everyday, and though the world could not see it, he winced when he spoke. Yet, he was a powerful speaker. Today, he was going to speak again.

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“My countrymen, fellow Zamastanians,” Foley bellowed from his podium on the steps of Congressional Hall, “we are here to commemorate those we lost on the second of January.” A crowd of thousands was gathered before him in the park, with the expanse of the Bay behind them and the shimmering glass of the highrises surrounding the capital complexes. “We lost hundreds, the world lost thousands, yet we never lost hope. We, the Zamastanian people, never lost dignity, pride, honor, or our valor.”

“As our brave men and women fight the enemy in Vulkaria, we fight the ideologies of violence and oppression here. We overcome the adversity of terror every day that we are alive. Our society is the cornerstone of freedom. We have the foundation of righteousness on our side.”

The crowd erupted in a roar. Zamastanian flags fluttered and waved over the thousands of heads. Signs punched into the sky, some saying “Long Live Zamastan”, others saying “Keep Up The Fight”, and mottos of patriotism and support spread across the masses.

“On these steps have stood the greatest fighters against oppression. Tomias Hapson, Marvin Gaviria, both slain in this spot,” Foley paused, gesturing to the small stone plaques to either side of the podium, “reminders of the men and women who have given their lives for freedom,” gesturing to the statues of soldiers towering in the park, “and the everlasting example of the bravery we have on our side.”

Fole knew how to work the crowd. From the podium, he heard a man in the audience shout “Thank you, Mister President!”

“As we remember those we have lost, we honor their lives. We honor them for the walks of life they came from, their roles they played in the lives of their loved ones and the people they touched, and we will never forget them. Today, we unveil their memory and keep it sanctified amidst the heroes of this park.”

A large tarp fell from the covered statue, and it revealed the thirty-foot marble obelisk inscribed with the names of the 125 victims who died in Zamastan on January 2nd, 2020.