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If Frigide was insulted in any way, she certainly didn't show it.
"If you insist, though I simply believe in showing the same courtesy I would anyone else; regardless of whatever leverage or status they may or may not have." she replied. "I can understand your anger and believe me, if it were up to me I would have simply sent you back empty handed at the absolute worst." She sighed. "If it's any consolation, last I heard Parmentier was due to be executed for what happened; no doubt brother wants to wash his hands of the whole affair."
"As for what I want, just your cooperation. You don't even need to design instruments of war, just tools to give us the industrial edge over Pradonia. In return I'll push for actual diplomatic relations with your homeland. Certain recent events outside the country have no doubt made that more palatable even to the war hawks."
She glares at her, "Your majesty, with all due respect, we do not believe in executions in my homeland. It has been banned for nearly a decade at this point. Besides we both know the agent is nothing more than a pawn in this game. And I'm not foolish, I am fully aware both you and your brother are capable of such a thing."
She listens to her proposal and then smiles a bit, "Loria, Gregory and/or Sara were successful then..." she turns around to think for a moment and afterwards turn back around, "Alright fine, on one more condition, for me. I'll do whatever you want, I'll make whatever you want, and you will have my complete loyalty, but I want to be able to write letters home whenever I want."
"Think whatever you may of me." she said, once again ignoring the insult. "Very well, though I would suggest you leave out private details; I can't guarantee that your letters won't be read by more than just the intended recipient."
"On the note of letters, we found this one on the Doctor's person." she said, handing Gertrude Night's letter. "I believe the contents would be of interest to you."
She reads the letter, slowly at first and eyerolling at the lovey-doviness of Joseph. Then her eyes widen and she walls into a seat before recomposing herself. She makes ready to speak before taking a long look at the letter again, "this... this has to be a trick... but... it's his handwriting for sure... I..." She keeps looking over the letter, "I'm... a princess?" She leans back in her chair. "why didn't he ever tell me...?" She looks up at Frigide and takes a deep breath in, "I.. Thank you for bringing this to me."
"Well I can't claim to understand him enough to guess his motives so I'll leave that to you. I understand we're in agreement then?" she said, extending her gloved hand.
"For now just have some basic designs ready to 'show off' to the skeptics, I still need to set things up before you start working on specific projects. Rest assured you'll be paid as any other scientist doing your work would be." she said while standing up, she then noticed the pile of books. "I see you've taken an interest in our culture. Though given your own nation's culture you might be more interested in the older, seldom remembered parts of it. The Palace Library does have books on that subject. I would recommend reading about Fryvris, Lord Of The Skies or Das Vergessene Licht by Patrick Weichselbraun. The former for being a personal interest of mine and the latter for its, connection, to Olaotism that most would prefer to ignore." she then turned to leave. "I have other duties I must attend to now if I'm to hold up my end of our deal. I look forward to our cooperation, cousin. Though I suggest that detail stays in this room." and with that, both her and the agents left.
The Katahdin would flee her pursuers, the state-of-the-art Submarine having little trouble keeping a distance between herself and the converted Fishing-Boats-turned-Submarine-Chasers for quite a while though it would be clear to the crew of the Submarine that she couldn't just hide underwater forever and the pirates knew it, but despite that the Katahdin lead her pursuers through a wild goose-chase...
Though unbeknownst to the crew of the U.S.S.S. Katahdin nor the pirates, help was on the way in the form of the hastily deployed cruiser U.S.S.S. Hawkins (CH-05) who quietly plied the waters near the Pirate's cove, having been sent by the Navy as a replacement for the Protected cruiser Falmouth, and unwittingly the heavy cruiser would find herself sailing into the chase as in the midst of the chase, the (currently having briefly lost the submarine chasers) Katahdin's periscope would soon detect the cruiser and quite hastily, the Serdian Submarine would surface to make contact with the cruiser.
The crew of the Hawkins would initially be quite surprised and even a little frightened as the Submarine surfaced, only to be reassured as the Serdian Flag was raised on the sub's periscope and with the opening of her conning tower hatch, Captain Joe Foreman yelled out "OI! DON'T SHOOT! IT'S THE KATAHDIN! WE'RE THE U.S.S.S. KATAHDIN!" which caused a great many of the sailors and officers of the Hawkins great relief as the Katahdin's crew stepped onto the Conning Tower and waved at their fellow Serdians and it really wouldn't be long before the Katahdin and Hawkins made radio-contact, with the Serdian submarine explaining to the heavy cruiser the situation with the pirates and the current mess with the enemy sub-chasers.
"Don't Worry Katahdin... The Hawkins is here to protect you." Captain Flint (Cpt Flint Rosenthal of the Hawkins) said in an amusingly coy manner as the Cruiser's batteries prepared for action, for the Katahdin's pursuers had yet to discover the cruiser or the submarine, nor did they have any idea of the location of the rest of the joint squadron now led by U.S.S.S. Condor.
Located on the coastline several miles north of the great city of Briggs, would lie a town known as Prembroke and within it there is a large shipyard where all manner of vessels from military contract warships down to humble tugboats and simple pleasure craft are built and maintained... and at the very end of the shipyard a large and imposing office building sat squat and proud, This is the headquarters of the company that ran this great Shipyard... The Harvey Shipbuilding Corporation.
And within the within the halls of the headquarters of the Harvey shipbuilding corporation, an accountant furiously fiddled with his abacus as he calculated the costs of the company's latest construction effort, the Worklawan capitol ship by the name of Petrov that was for the most part about 95% completed with the only things missing being were her main battery of 14-inch naval guns which weren't installed due to delays caused by a recent thunderstorm having wreaked havoc across New Westphalia wrecking the railway line that the Harvey Shipyards relied upon to get equipment in, but these delays and issues weren't what had Mr. Cubbage in such a furious tizzy, no... it was the sudden telegram sent by the Worklawan Navy to the company that had the accountant just about ready to rip his own hair out!
"CANCELLED! THEY CANCELLED THIS ORDER!?... WE'VE GOT A WHOLE BLOODY BATTLESHIP JUST WAITING IN THE SLIPWAY AND THEY'VE CANCELLED IT!?!?" The Accountant seethed, throwing his Abacus across the room and nearly hitting a poor intern in the head. "W-What? They cancelled what?" The Intern asked innocently as he walked in as Mr. Cubbage banged his fist against the desk. "The Worklawans cancelled the order for the Petrov..." Cubbage said, taking in a deep breath to recollect himself after that seething fury that had overtaken him. "Apparently... the Worklawan Navy's building program was cut... for 'financial reasons'..." Cubbage said. "And they just sent this telegram to us whilst we were just about done with this damned battlecruiser..." Cubbage finished.
"Sooo... we've been saddled with this bloody great big white elephant!?" The Intern grumbled in return to which Cubbage replied back. "Basically... Goddamnit we need to find a buyer for the Petrov or we'll go bankrupt..." He hissed, to which a voice from the back of the room suddenly said. "I agree entirely... I've sunk far too many resources into her construction... and I don't intend to lose my company over this fiasco..." said the company's chairman and director, putting his top hat on a coat-rack as he entered the office. "We need to find a buyer for the Petrov immediately... hmn." The Stout Director thought. "Who could we ring upon to buy her..." He said thoughtfully before the Intern suddenly spoke up. "Well sir... we have a few officials from the Czestwolaskian Navy visiting the shipyards in a few days... we could try shilling the Petrov off on them..." The Intern finished politely.
"That... isn't half bad of an idea... hm I'll make arrangements then..." He finished as he walked away to his office whilst Mr. Cubbage went to grab the shattered remains of his Abacus that he threw in his rage. "Heh..." the intern chuckled. "Maybe this'll make up for the Utica sale back in '98." as he walked off to do his paperwork.
Wielbelkia and Worklaw
The air was crisp and cool, the skies above Columbia's famous Florence Central Railway Station clear with few clouds on this cool and crisp winter day as company executives and passengers clattered and stood around the busy Platform 10A as C.C.R. No.4270 (now christen the "Flying Westphalian") quietly sat attached to a rake of about ten teak express coaches with many people excitedly boarding the coaches as the hype for this new express service was real. besides the ten express coaches there would be about three baggage coaches located at the front of the consist and inside one of the three baggage coaches (a modified old clerestory coach at the very front of the consist right after the engine's tender) Mr. Gordon Gresley and various technicians would prepare various speed gauging devices as today...! Today is the day that they will attempt it!
Stepping out of the baggage coach to check the time and to see if the passengers had loaded, Gresley would spot the conductor waving his waving at him. "WE'RE ALL CLEAR!" He yelled aloud with a grumpy look on his face as the last door banged shut at the end of the long train, with this noted and the conductor about ready to wave the train off with his green flag, Gresley would hurry back inside the speed-monitoring baggage coach as the Conductor waved and blew his whistle.
"We're off now!" A technician chirped happily as the coach lurched forward... it wouldn't take long for the train to slowly slink it's way out of the station, through the sea of points and switches that crisscrossed the junction that led out of Florence Central and onto the mainline... the engine briskly rushing through the two-track cutting where houses and businesses would flank the line on either side, all the while a slow freight train would pass the express with it's crew saluting the Flying Westphalian's inaugural run with a friendly toot of the whistle from the filthy little 0-6-0 as the express ran through, it's speed increasing as the train finally left the city and began to encroach into the countryside towards the next station.
Inside the modified luggage coach that the measurement team was in, excitement began to build as they measured the speed. "Oh hell!... We're currently an average speed of 85 to 90 Miles per hour Mr. Gresley!" one of the technicians said as he looked over his equipment and checked with his abacus, only for his excitement to dim slightly as they felt the the coach rock slightly as the express began to charge up an incline. "We're slowing!" Another technician said as he checked the equipment, looking over the speedometer and the airspeed indicator, Gresley biting his lip but then replying. "She can handle it!" he yelled over to the technicians as the incline took its toll on the train's speed, inside the cab of No.4270 the driver (a man named Charles Cleet if we remembered.) would maintain his hand on the regulator and kept it open just enough to power the train up the hill but he was biding his time, waiting for the right time to open the regulator all the way for that record breaker, all the while the fireman would busily be working his damnedest to keep the fire burning nicely as he shoveled the coal into the firebox... Then with the flashing of a proud grin, just as the train crested the top of the hill and slowed down to a rough 65-miles-per-hour, and finally as No.4270 Began the downward descent down the hill, Charles gripped the regulator tightly and finally opened it up all the way and finally the record breaking sprint had begun.
"...75..80...85...90...95!..." The Technician looking over all of the speed monitoring equipment and hastily writing down the numbers as everyone huddled around the desk to see it all! "WE'VE DONE IT!" The Technician screamed aloud with joy as he wrote it down. "100 MILES PER HOUR!!!... OH HELL! WE'RE AT 105 MILES PER HOUR! YES!" He screamed with joy as the train rocketed down the gradient with white smoke pouring out of the funnel, wheels flying across the rails with Charles laughing happily as the express roared through the long straight-away, finally slowing the train down after about a mile of pure sprinting!
...in the afternoon, the Flying Westphalian would slowly roll into Pendleton station in southern Amestris with a large crowd having gathered to greet the train, cameras flashing and people pushing and shoving to see the green locomotive and it's rake of teak coaches as it slowly crawled into the station where it finally stopped, passengers disembarking from the coaches both exhilarated though a great many from the cafe and dining coaches were rather cross as more than one glass of champagne and or plate of finely cut steak had spilled onto their clothes... but it didn't matter, for the Columbia Central Railway had it's victory, it's ace in the hole as Mr. Gordon Gresley put it as he greeted the various journalists that had gathered to see the speed conquering express.
SERDIA SNAGS WORLD SPEED RECORD!
COLUMBIA CENTRAL HAS FASTEST TRAIN IN WORLD!
The Raven Takes Flight
Asce, Vodenhem, Pradonia
1131 hours, 22 July 1920
It'd been two months since the terrorist attack that shook the core of the Pradian nation, when 34 innocent lives, including the lives of 11 first responders, had been snuffed out by radical extremists in the tragic bombing of the Department of Interior building in downtown Asce. In response to the provocation, the nation - particularly the military and police forces - had been awash with activity, redoubling efforts at stamping out such domestic terrorist groups throughout the nation. A few weeks after the event, on 21 May, a cell of syndicalists had been rounded up and summarily executed in N’ford, and the following day, a radical group of Rykians had been similarly captured, given mock trials, and executed for crimes of treason in Rycland province. Then, in early June, radical communist group in Jansborg had been captured and sent to work camps to be forced to assist in preparations for the next phase of Father Falc's plans: a fate they shared with a group of anarchists captured in the first week of July in the city of Walciria, near the Staalkastel border. Countless smaller raids had taken place in-between, as well, including thousands of abductions of known radicals and those confirmed to have fought for the republicans during the civil war off the streets. In total, nearly 30,000 people were arrested or killed over the last two months, over half of whom had been Rykians alone. In total, these purges had racked up a body count of over 10,000 so-called insurgents killed or executed in events only describable as massacres, while nearly 20,000 had been set to work, several thousand of whom had since died of disease, malnutrition, exposure, overwork, or in cases of unrest, attempts at escape, 'bad behaviour', or in numerous instances, just because the guards felt like it, wanton execution. None of this would reach the papers, however, being kept as close state secrets, with only word of grand victories against so-called militant radicals and enemies of the state making it through the Department of the Media, who went on to paint it as necessary to ensure national security.
However, this had all been a prelude, and now, with the first counter-insurgency group assembled on the edge of Vystland in Fort M’n, the next stage of insurgent pacification was to begin, with the insurgent-filled wilderness of rural Vystland and the rebel Staalkastel provinces set to be brought back under the Father's ever-watchful gaze, and peace restored. At last, the Pradian state would see to it that its people were avenged, and advises for the international community to take a firm stance against these and their own domestic anarchist terrorist groups, lest they also have such tragedies befell their own people.
And to aid in that goal, military processions in the capital had been held, at the end of which the Father announced the Empire's newest weapon: a new armoured airship cruiser, first of its class, named simply the Rawnn, which was to be the first zarite-powered vessel in the Pradian navy and testbed for airships in the field. Armed with 6 30cm mortars, 12 20cm guns, 18 5cm guns, 2 18cm flak guns, 8 3.3cm quad-barrel flak guns, 20 13mm heavy machine guns, 8 nozzles capable of launching flamethrower or gas attacks, and 2 40cm torpedo tubes. Coupled with the mortars, a sticky inflammible gel-like diesel-based zarite-infused substance is to be deployed for testing, based on the incendiary pinecones of the eld tree and affectionately named 'firesap', to be used as an area denial and forest-clearing device, literally burning insurgents out of wherever they choose to hide.
This airship, along with a number of small, minimally armoured aerial insertion troop transport airships armed with two 7.92mm door-mounted machine guns each, are to be deployed north over the next several days and meet up with the 1st river flotilla in Vilsborg, which will then accompany the airship down the Bonn river into the discontent provinces, starting with Vystland, supported by a ground advance spearheaded by mecha by the forces in Fort M’n. A second flotilla, this one unspported by airships, stands at the ready in Brymm harbour, from which they will then sail up the Staal river and stage a landing once the main force enters Staalkastel, supported by a beach landing unloading mecha and mechanised infantry units onto the southern grasslands of Staalkastel to rapidly advance and secure a beachhead between the Staal and Voideric rivers in order to facilitate landing reinforcements for a two-pronged invasion.
With fears of civil unrest growing in Serdia due to both a recent bombing at a Saint Denis police Precinct that killed multiple officers and many civilians and a recent police raid upon an Staalk enclave in Columbia that revealed multiple caches of arms and plans to commit acts of terror against the Serdian state and her people, today Congress has voted and unanimously agreed upon what is now being called the 'Staalkastan Relocation Program' with many "troublemakers" within the Serdian republic, namely known agitators who were more-often-than-not recent immigrants who preached their ideology and caused other such disturbances such as Strikes being disarmed, questioned and subsequently rounded up by Police and civilian posses for deportation, the vast majority of these unlucky few being carted off by charted passenger trains or by buses to multiple harbors where several small charted passenger liners (belonging to the Blue Star Line) would wait for them before setting sail for their journey to Pradonia for as one Serdian Congressmen said.
"Why should we have to deal with something that is quite clearly Pradonia's Problem? Send them back!"
The Program has been met with widespread approval by the Serdian public and especially from the many earlier Staalkastans who fled from the revolution, many of them considering themselves as proud Serdian citizens and holding a dim view of the anarchist rabble come to ruin their new home of Serdia.
After several long months of research and development, trial and error, stress testing, the whole shebang, the military is pleased to announce that its new arsenal is now ready for mass producing, allowing older models, such as
the Male-series tanks, to finally be phased out.
Such devices(which I'm not going to list here, they will be added to the factbook in due time) include new firearms, tanks, walkers, to guard mountainous regions, and even aircraft.
Many of the Male tanks will be scrapped and used to produce the newer models, although, the government has offered to give 130 Mark IV tanks, 42 Mark V tanks, and 30 Mark VI transport tanks, along with the ammunition, and spare parts, to Egoia.
Additionally, the shock trooper battalion will be re-organised into the Vanguard. Each battalion will now have an extra company, comprised entirely of shock troopers, bringing the number of companies per battalion from 4 to 5.
The Vanguards equipment will also be re-done, as the older equipment gets phased out.
The Damned
Partisan camp, forests of Vystland, Pradonia
1432 hours, 24 July, 1920
"Another division in Fort M’n?" Ex-Popular Front General Henric Scowgaard let out a frazzled sigh, "That makes over 60,000 now, versus our 5,000. Still no sign of that airship?"
"No, not yet. Only a matter of time, though," came the reply of Scerstin stberg, herself a former NFA-HAF revolutionary considered by many as a figure akin to a general, despite the syndicalists having eschewed the use of any ranks, "But I think we have an opportunity here. We can't win, but if we can block up the river and cut off supplies, we might can slow down their advance long enough to give the egoists time to do something. They're better equipped and more numerous, they may have a chance to hold out, given enough prep time. There's no chance at escape for us, though."
"Indeed. I'd considered that," Scowgaard added, pointing to a part of the river on the map, "Some explosives hidden under logs here could possibly bring a ship, maybe even two, down, but it wouldn't be effective enough to stop them, even with artillery support, and we don't have enough ferries to create our own 'dam'."
Scerstin nodded, "Correct. However, there's another option. We can't just walk into Fort M’n and plant charges on their ships, but we might be able to plant charges on the bridges in T’ga and Bonningford, and the collapsed bridges might be enough to make the river unnavigable. Throw some charges and metal barriers in as well, and, well, at the very least, it'd slow down the infantry and supplies, especially if we also sabotage the railroads leading into T’ga, as well."
"Hm... Do we have saboteurs in place?"
"Yes. But we'll have to send messengers to deliver messages at dead drop locations, smoke signals alone are too risky for this operation. If they go on horseback, they might can make it before the airships arrive. Those... Are going to pose issues, though. We don't have anything capable of taking on air targets, and they're faster than us too," Scerstin admitted.
Henric's expression warped into a grin, "I believe I actually have a plan for that, actually. We just need to make sure they're focussed on us, and what better way to do that than to launch an offensive?"
"An offensive? With 5,000 irregular guerrillas, against an entrenched enemy outnumbering us 12 to 1? Are you feeling quite alright, Henric?"
"We can't take their main force, no. But we could launch a small offensive of a few hundred men against their fuel depots. Those airships need fuel, they guzzle it up by the kilo, the mechs too, and without river access, which your plan'll see to they don't have, those depots are all they'll have. Even if we don't commit a lot to the attacks, they'll have to divert to defend them, or their entire operation's at risk. It'll be suicide, but this entire operation already is. There'll be no mercy afforded to us, the fashies will want to use us put on a show of force with their new toy to send a message to the egoists. I doubt we'll have any shortage of volunteers, given the options."
"Alright. It's probably our best bet, then. In that case, we'd best get the saboteurs underway. Oh, and Henric? Here's to our deaths; let's hope the egoists are able to take advantage of it on our behalves." Scerstin turned and left the tent to call a meeting with the rest of the partisans' representatives to present the plan and, after they had inevitably approved the course of action - and without any changes too; a rarity for this particular assembly - the camp's partisans were called to volunteer for the operation's roles. Soon, messengers were selected and sent on horseback to ride for Bonningford and T’ga, with the diversionary force departing not long after to set up.
For Henric's part, he didn't approve of this organisational structure, and so abstained from joining the discussions to remain in his tent, plotting the coming operation on his map and making his peace. A sombre attitude overtakes the entire camp, as rifles are cleaned, sights are ranged, bullets are loaded into stripper clips, and farewell letters are written.
Zoetstraten Proving Grounds, North Schayne
After MAL's Leichter Traktorläufer I had its balance issues ironed out and was accepted to service, they were contracted to design a fully combat oriented walker tank. Building upon the basic design principles of the LTk 1 and their work in conventional armored vehicles, they had relatively quickly made a prototype for stress testing. It was noticeably larger than its predecessor, shaped like a tank but instead of tracks it walked on four long, insect-like legs that ended in flat feet with four "claws" to better spread the weight evenly. This combined with its wider stance gave it a better sense of balance despite its larger size. The somewhat boxy body's armor was smooth and simplistic, broken up by vision ports for the driver. Its armament was mounted in a similarly boxy turret, a coaxial 7.92x57mm Honchkiss machine gun as well as a 20mm cannon designed by Rhenmetall and based on their flak gun of the same caliber. An exhaust pipe at the back belched out smoke from the petrol engine as it stomped over obstacles, stopping to fire at a target. Leutnant Erich Ettlinger was once again the one sent to oversee the test.
"I'm hoping this one is leaving a better first impression Leutnant." said the same engineer from last time. Ettlinger nodded.
"I have to admit it certainly does a better job when it comes to staying on its feet, unlike the first model you showed me." he said. The engineer sighed at that, remembering that embarrassing incident.
"Well Leutnant, we all stumble a bit on our first few steps."
Meanwhile in Dinsmark.
Frigide had been less than enthused to learn that there had been a security breach and made a note to look into who was at fault for this. Nevertheless it was good news that Gertrude had finally had a breakthrough after shutting herself in, she had considering having the guards forcibly enter to make her rest. The last thing she needed after the whole mess was Gertrude working herself to death and making it pointless. Course, when she arrived and saw Gertrude's condition; she was tempted to do that anyway. Still, she kept a neutral expression on her face as she spoke.
"So what can you tell me about your progress?"
Gertrude would be looking over some finishing touchers like paint and the installation of the parachute in the ejection system as she looked over at Frigide, "Well it should fly. Fly faster, turn tighter, and reach flying altitude quicker. I lack the ammunition for a test but the guns are controlled in the cockpit by the one pilot. Landing gear is a typical Egoist design, retractable controlled by a switch in the cockpit, I had to design a whole knew seat due to the G-Forces, pilots maintaining long term flights will need special training to handle that. Should go further than previous fighters in your airwings but I had to order a special mixture from Egoian designs, I doubt it'll work for any aircraft but this one. Aside from that, This is by far the most advanced Fighter Aircraft in the world... if it'll fly of course. It will in essence make Wielbelkia masters of the sky and secure air superiority. Which reminds me, are your people going to help fight Pradonia any time soon? I imagine all that smoke and ash will ruin your evenings out." She climbs into the cockpit, "So can we test it?"
Loria and Gregory look at the man and shake his hand, "You are these... Mercenaries your government recommended then?"
"An Ace you say? Well hopefully the mission we have planned will prove no issue for your and your men. We need you to gain air superiority along the border. Do that and we can bomb the Pradonian Armor to the void. We have some planes in production to help reinforce your men, an organized group of crop duster pilots are planning to organize into the First Air Regiments under the Druids of the Bear, the militia who has seemingly taken the lead on this operation. They are currently training over at the Air Field near Staalgrad where your troops are currently stationed. We'll be putting them under your command. If we can gain air superiority we'll ask that some of your men take control of the skies along the Staal and Voideric rivers and help us mop up any of the soldiers left there. Otherwise you're free to conduct scouting operations as you see fit and work alongside Commanders Staalinov here, Myself, Archdruid Aethelwulf, and Captain Karl Freud commanding the Akrosford Militia regiments at the front." The woman looked at them both, "So you were aces from before the uprising or..."
"Loria!" Gregory snapped at her, "Now is not the time for politics."
She shrugged, "I just want to get to know the man. We'll all be spilling blood together, maybe even dying together, I'd like to know him before the void takes us."
The Pravą Gazette, Tuesday Morning Edition
"According to local sources this morning at the Pravą Naval Base, the newly commissioned ČFNS Petrov has arrived at the harbor just this morning in preparation for its first renovations and eventual tour of duty after a relatively brief transfer ceremony between its former Serdian Navy skeleton crew and engineers and the new crew assigned to it by the Federal Navy last Friday. With this new acquisition, the ČFN hopes to continue its current program of modernisation as the increasing naval threats from rival powers continue to approach the nations shores.
In other news, the Federįlnķ Parlament Čestowałśka recently passed a bill that authorized the mobilization of 20,000 troops of the ČFAs Western Defense Command to the western coast of the country along with the deployment of token force of several hundred advisors and shipments of armaments and supplies to Egoia after weeks of fierce debate within the lower chambers of the legislature. Much of this was done in response to the recent string in aggressive incidents in the surrounding region, particularly with the immediate nation of Pradonia on the other side of the Brneč Sea. Though the full details of the expedition and deployment to Egoia and the west coast of the country so far are not completely clear to the public as of yet, sources within the Ministry of Defense have stated that this deployment has marked the first time in last decade that the military has been mobilized to such a degree, let alone for a war overseas. Nonetheless, such an effort would seem to serve as a test for the burgeoning regional power as the ČFR seeks to expand its influence in the general region beyond economic and political ties."
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On the streets of Pravą outside of the Parliament building, Jan scowled a bit as he read the newspaper entry. "Advisors" and "supplies?" This hadn't been the thing that he had initially asked the Defense Ministry to provide when he would lead his group of ex-Army volunteers to the frontier in Egoia a few weeks before. He thought to himself, Load of cowards in the government, they are! The grizzled ex-Sea Marine man himself wasn't an Egoist, nor was his struggle primarily ideological, but he had heard first hand as a member of Naval Intelligence the reports regarding some of the atrocities taking place within the nation across the large sea body that divided it from the ČFR. Although things like ethnic cleansing and atrocities were nothing new to Jan due to his deployment in southern Arvug during the formerly frequent raids several decades ago, the news that concerned the veteran the most were the frequent rumors of expansionism that were emerging from some of the reports coming in from their foreign sources. Though initially hesitant about the news, his concerns became reality with the news that Egoia was being invaded by their next door neighbor Pradonia, which then caused him initially petition the government to send a force to assist the smaller country against the aggression. When that failed however, he began to travel around the country and raising a fairly large group of volunteers (mainly ex-military) clandestinely to head to the war zone before things escalated any further. Though he had initially held back from outright deploying the troops in the hopes of the government providing support through official means, Jan shook his head as he walked over to a man near the street corner before discreetly handing him a note that read, "Operation Orel is go. Rendezvous at the harbor at 20:00."
Wielbelkia, Tauberg Expedition, Schayne, Waldreich mountains. (Technically in the past by the time the events of the current rp are occuring but ok)
On the HMRS Khulan of Myangan Nulimsny a man in his armour and winter snow clothing paces around the deck, the chest holster for his revolver prominent as the rest of the crew look at him warily while he sports a rather angry face. "Just where are those damn scouts?" he mutters to himself. Taking a second to stop and look at the stars above, a full moon lighting the deck and the mountain range they've parked themselves in for a week now, he notices one of the ships lieutenant approaching him. "Command Duty Officer, what is the reason? i believe you have a crew to feed in the morning"
Saluting with a fist to his chest "Lord Commander" taking a breath, "The captain will be back shortly, he's had to find more covert means of contacting the scouts to tell them to return" he explains
"Let us hope its succesful, when the captain returns inform me straight away, we might have some deadlines to push forward." muttering the last part out under his breath so only the CDO can hear him.
"Understood Lord Commander" taking his leave, however as he turns to leave, Megujin notices a man vomiting over the edge again.
"For f*cks sake, even if we're stationary you're still motion sick, should've joined the army you pisser" Megujin yells
"huh,,,wha-?" barely even seconds to process who the man yelling at him is, he's subsequently thrown overboard to his death in the mountain range, his screaming echoing throughout and triggering a minor avalanche.
"Oh and Command Duty Officer, inform the captain of an unfortunate man overboard incident that was avoidable if those on watch had kept to their duties"
"Yes Lord Commander" with a grin on his face, the CDO finally manages to get back to his duties.
-------------------------------------------------------
Worklaw Serdian republic i believe you guys have people involved in this particular incident, might wanna get your posts out of the way or something like that.
Wielbelkia, Worklaw, and Serdian republic
Frigide's expression became somewhat strained at that.
"Ah yes about that, unfortunately any direct intervention would have to wait. The Empire is divided on whether to intervene at all, with even those who do support intervention only want to as a means to instate a "friendlier" regime in Egoia as a buffer state." she said. "Not to mention the Imperial Army isn't currently in a position to move into Egoia regardless. Though that doesn't preclude alternate methods of support."
She then looked at the plane and Gertrude doubtfully. "Well if you are certain you're in a condition to fly and that it's airworthy."
She looks down, "For the love of the gods, don't you people understand what they plan to do to the people there? They want a genocide, and it'll put them right on your doorstep!"
She sighs, "Whatever, she can fly well enough, just get me to the runway and I'll fly it around the capital in a designated flight path."
Wielbelkia and Worklaw
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