YNS Cycler, Cycler-class aircraft carrier, Tsyemny Sea
450 miles off the coasts of Greater Saint-Paul and The Soviet States of Europe

Someone knocked on the door. Behind that door was a fairly small captain's quarters, and within those quarters was Captain Zakaria Burch was smoking a cigar, and studying over the plans for Operation Poltergeist. An ambitious and large operation at that, but through all the doubt, one that might work. And still, the knocking persisted. Burch snapped out of his dreamy state and looked at the door.

"Come in," he said, his voice filled old from the salt of the sea, and the waves splashing against his face. He took the cigar out of his mouth and lit it out in his ashtray. The door opened and came in a young petty officer. The young man walked in and took off his hat, standing firm in his place.

"Heil Solomon!" the young lad said, raising his arm fairly slowly in the Yugo Salute. It comprised of raising your right arm above your head, pointed upwards.

"Heil," Burch said in a bored fashion. This "Heil Solomon" thing was really tiring out his arms, and starting to get annoying. "What did you need me for?"

"Sir, we've gotten word from the 3rd and 4th Fleets - Operation Double Cross is underway. They are making their final preparations."

"Good," Burch replied. "Soon we will get rid of those darn Montarcians as well as those Tongans from The Islands of Tonga. And who would have even expected the Waupun from all the way from Waupun Island to join them? This is just a gangbang of nations...pardon my language."

"I understand sir," said the petty officer, albeit looking a bit troubled.

Operation Double Cross was the planned operation back in Yugobatania - a large combined offensive push that comprised of all the major branches of the Yugobatanian Armed Forces.

"Captain Loren has also stated that they will be splitting up soon when we get near Kyoki Chudoku. We are nearing ever so closer to Greater Saint-Paul and The Soviet States of Europe as we speak."

Burch merely just nodded. Loren was always an ambitious one. A young captain that rose through the ranks, rumor had it that he was the one who ordered the assassination of his father. He had fanatical dreams of being Supreme Emperor Solomon's right-hand man - a dream that was very far away. A jet fighter took off above them on the carrier deck, the distant echo of its engines snapping Burch out of his thoughts. A slight vibration was felt in the room, as it rattled some pencils in a cup on his desk around.

"Anything else?"

"That is all sir."

"Good. Ready the fighters. I will be up in the bridge shortly."

"Yes, sir."

The petty officer walked out of his office, leaving him alone once more. Burch looked down at his ashtray, the burnt cigar just laying there. He opened up a drawer underneath his desk and grabbed a pack of cigars, lighting one, and putting the box away. Burch leaned back on his chair and stared at the ceiling.

This was going to be one hell of a ride.