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From the office of Ryan Thomas, CEO of the Liberimarcatan military and ProStar Defender Company:
"For a while the board has watched our allies batter each other's armies, one side fighting for a theocratic throne known as the Golden Throne, and one fighting for the independence of the nation of 
Kyavan, the Watester Concordat. And now the board has decided to disrupt our nation's neutrality to fight in the interests of the one of these factions. Keep in mind that although we are to side with statist entities, by no means will we establish relations past being allies fighting a mutual threat. So, the Military Board, as of today, has decided Liberimarcat will ally with the Watester Concordat-"
Thunderous applause booms. Private security immediately apprehends several red-masked figures in the crowd while joyous citizens cheer and holler. Thomas motions for them to quiet down, and when they reduced their volume Thomas continued.
"-the Watester Concordat and their allies. The military will not stand by as a heinous, disgusting monarchy spreads its seed of hate and oppression upon the world like a courtesan with an infection."
The crowd laughs, Thomas smiling at his humor.
"The Liberimarcatan military will supply 20,000 general Army soldiers, 500 T-4 Defender Tanks, 5 F-22 Raptor jets, and several hundred general utility and troop carrier vehicles for WTC use at their discretion. These troops will be deployed at the nearest bases to the WTC front, as per the Coalition-Watester Pact. Furthermore, another 400,000 military personnel as well as 2,000 T4s, 200 F-22 Raptor jets, and 15 naval destroyers including the TBS Port Union and several hundred utility and troop carrier vehicles will be allocated to specifically planned attacks on Kyavan under the board's discretion, as per Executive Board Orders 24 and 25. Military action has not yet been authorized by the Board, more information will come soon."
Somewhere over the Kyavan countryside:
"Red 2, Red 2, do you copy?"
"Yessir, Brown 1, Brown 1, do you copy?"
"Roger. Over."
The squadron of bombers release several slender bombs, which drops under them and impacts the ground with a delayed explosion. Crop fields are instantly disintegrated and set ablaze.
"In. Payload is out."
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Vlamms Statt, Kafair, New Imperial Britannia, and 4 othersDroiden, Best rwanda, Rusliv, and Almadaria
Radio Waves.
It is a weird way to communicate, using waves invisible to the naked eye to send waves in a specific order to generate sounds on the end.
Truly a weird way to communicate.
Today on a quiet night, the airwaves were alive with many buzzes.
"-bzzt this is Eric Question Sun Sun Alpha Yaneo Night Lance, we have confirmed contacts - bbzzt -ven contacts, we have caught them off guard- bzzt -"
"-patching two Tridents, (sound of a faint explosion) -rmed takedown, this is Equestria Question Sun Sun Alpha Yaneo Pen Cat, (sound of another explosion) OH, 'nother takedown, Command, this is Eques-"
The sky blew up with several MineLegoEquestrian air wings taking it up against Thronist forces, the well known MineLegoEquestrian Multiroles took up in the sky, firing missiles and machine-gun bullets to secure aerial supremacy for the Loyalists Kyavani forces.
Thanks to the intelligence collection by the MineLegoEquestrian Royal Intelligence Service, they were able to take the enemy by surprise. The Loyalists will have continued air supremacy as long as the MineLegoEquestrians maintain the support.
(Airforce Attack : 15, Defense : 5)
July 6th, 2020, 8:00 A.M.
Offical Communique from the Flemish Diplomatic Ministry, and his Majesty, Marc I
On this date, we declare our full support to be with that of the Golden Throne, and its affiliated parties, any whom wish to take it down,
will have to face the might of the Flemish guns, and in the rare event, that our nation is occupied, our forces shall continue to liberate it, both from the inside and outside of the nation,
by whatever means necessary, our government, and people, will not allow our nation to become a mere footnote in history,
but one that shall rise and beat back the foul nations that wish to oppose our allies, and thus ourselves.
Report from the Front: Ruby Ranch Republic
As the only nation that bordered the Statt, the Ranch was the first target for the Flemish Army to attack, it's goal?, eliminate the industrial zones of the Rhine, and link up with Droidean forces to the North.
The border had been prepared for a long time, with forces mobilized before the operation, as for the number of forces that were opposing it, that was yet to be revealed. But for now, the artillery of the nation,
would destroy any resistance in the Ranch, allowing for the swift occupation of it, and removing any direct threat to the nation.
The guns began firing, at the cities of Aachen, and Dusseldorf, yet only time would tell if the shells would hit their mark.
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Kafair, Best rwanda, Rusliv, and 1 otherSeattle autonomous zone
Nuremberg, The Ruby Ranch Republic, July 6, 2020
General McAllister always despised the rain. It was gray, wet, uncomfortable, everything a military siege shouldn't be. Moreso, a countersiege.
The vehicles rolled up in the dozens. Tanks followed suit, and helicopters circled in the sky. As the vehicles stopped and the back ramps opened, the sound of boots running in the mid and wet grass could be heard by one in the vicinity. Nearby was a small city, which the military was to use as an initial outpost to coordinate their attacks. The streets were empty, windows shuttered and chimneys bellowing with smoke. Artillery could be heard in the distance, however the militant force was unfazed.
And so the tanks rolled, men in black and green uniforms standing on the tops of the tracks, guns pointed at the doors of the many houses lining the street.
Meanwhile, on the ground, troops snuck through the town like heavily armed mice, ensuring no enemy forces were taking refuge in any crevices or crannies. When they had searched the entirety of the town, they began knocking on doors and using homes as quarter, whether the residents agreed or had to be relocated to an established group of tents and lean-tos.
General McAllister sat in his newly created command center, a large canopy tent sheltered by transported concrete barriers. He placed a cigar in his teeth and lit it, mildly hacking and coughing before he recovered and blew the cigar's smoke from his stained teeth. He looked at a huge map staples to the wall of his tent. Red arrows coming from the very town they were in, converging on black Xs and Os.
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Vlamms Statt, Kafair, New Imperial Britannia, and 4 othersDroiden, Best rwanda, Rusliv, and Almadaria
The Ranch, 
The Ruby Ranch Republic
July 6, YOLGNS 2020
12:00 hours
Upon the second day of the siege, the Droideneans had attempted a push. But, the massively hungover force was less prepared than usual. Many of them simply stumbled over, falling into the enemy's line of fire. But, the Droideneans still pushed, making contact with the Ranchian Army. But, the Ranchians, awake and lively, held against the Droideneans, and soon, the northmen were on the fall back. The Droideneans were pushed back to their camp, where 500 men under the Berserkergang held the front line against a Ranchian detatchment nearly twice the size. The Droideneans, with a great push, managed to claw their way back to the city gates. Lord-General Rian Fearghail spoke to his men.
"I don't know what that was, but it was a TRAVESTY. I am greatly disappointed in you all. Drunkenness during a siege will not be tolerated. As such, I call upon you to line up, in lines of 10."
The Droideneans, confused, did so.
"Are you familiar with the Roman Decimation? It was used by the great roman legion to whack its soldiers into line. First line, step forward."
The first line, made up of trembling recruits, stepped forward.
"I will have each of you draw a stick. The shortest stick gets... punished."
They each draw a stick. The one who picks the shortest begins to weep.
"What is your name, soldier?"
"P-p-private Jensen s-sir.."
"Well, Private." The Lord General draws his blade. "Which finger is your least favourite?"
The Recruit holds up his right pinky.
"Grand. Men, our objective is to cut the right pinkies from each of these damned Ranchians. We will also blind them, cut their tongues, and leave them to die. But, we must allow one to see, and one to speak, so they may spread word of our glorious victory here. They will fall at the might of the Great Starist Knights. Now, all in favor of this, stomp and shout "Aye!""
The Droideneans all stomp and shout Aye
"This is what I like to hear."
The Ruby Ranch Republic, The order of the holy inquisitors, Karelignia, Vlamms Statt, and 4 othersNew Imperial Britannia, Best rwanda, Rusliv, and Almadaria
“While there is war in Guyana, destruction in Central Europe, and madness in Anatolia, what do we righteous fellows do? We sit around on some godforsaken ship!” Ranted a young, scrappy-looking man. In the spaces between the cargo containers on the deck of the Martí, small congregations passed the time in the shade with cards, music, and smoking.
“Sit down, boy. The waves won’t hear your wailing and push us to our destination faster.”
“El Mayor is coming-- get up!” Came a hiss. Card hands were put down and cigarettes hastily extinguished, then the Major walked past them with the captain of the vessel. As soon as they passed, the loafers returned to their relaxation.
“Garza, I need you to understand there’s no other way. Once we make port, we need to either unload or sell what cargo we have here.” Cavillo said to the captain as they walked alongside each other. Cavillo had recently acquired a sun-burnt face, caught by staying above decks to quell his seasickness. When asked why he needed to go above decks in the middle of a conversation, Cavillo only said he “needed to clear his head.” His face was also unkempt, with specks of black hair forming above his lip and along his jaw.
“Señor, this is my livelihood. I understand that your guerillas need money, but without some money for myself and my business, I’ll sink. You cannot take everything for yourself.”
“Listen, Garza, when we’re able to sell, we’ll only sell what we need. Because while we have guns and food and gear already, we’ll need transport. That means cars, helicopters. Then we’ll need fuel for both. And, soon, we’ll need more money for bargaining, so we can get better arms. But here’s this; I can guarantee that we won’t take more than we think we’ll need. You should keep plenty.”
“Cavillo, I’ve known you for a while. Even when you made changes to the Valverdian Party that I did not agree with, claiming it’s not what Valverde nor Casco would’ve wanted, I stuck with the Party. When you declared action against Arbelaez, como un tonto, I still stuck with the Party and even offered my shipping business to aid your efforts. I’ve given and given, so just let me break away from this with my living.” The captain said, their face drained of blood and their body language defeated.
Cavillo sighed and stopped in front of the bridge and accommodation superstructure.
“Amigo, I know. But if we don’t get clear of Arbelaez’s reach, this would all have been en vana. All I can give you is a promise; I’ll try to leave you enough for profit.” Cavillo said, running his hand through his hair.
“I have a feeling I’ve got no choice but to accept your offer, señor.” The captain replied with a certain bite in his tone. He walked off to manage the bridge, leaving Major Cavillo standing there, cleaning his nails with his thumb lost in thought.
Coming to, Basilio went the same direction as the captain but turned into the communications room instead. The room was a cramped grey steel room, with both walls to the flanks of the door covered with bulky equipment. Four tired-looking sailors staffed the positions.
“¿Cuales son las noticias?” Cavillo asked as he walked into the room.
The nearest radio operator noticed him and took off his headphones. “Mayor, reports came in about the La Esmeralda and Grandas lodges. They’ve been bombing Grandas and put the city in lockdown-- but we’ve lost upwards of forty fighters in random searches and arrests. It’s real bad in La Esmeralda-- military was sent in. First confrontation just after we left, and it’s been dragging on for a few days now.”
“Maldición. What do we know of casualties in La Esmeralda?” Cavillo continued, furrowing his brow.
“No estoy seguro, pero the federales estimate around 120 confirmed kills.“
Cavillo slammed the door frame with his palm in a split second of fury, then quickly withdrew his arm to his side in a slow action as his eyes darted in calculation between points in the corner of the room.
“That’s nearly--” Cavillo started, stopping to wipe his mouth. “That’s nearly the entire lodge. Gracias, señores.” Basilio said, and then he turned and left.
The Martí had nearly 1,548 kilometers left before they could dock in Dakar. Until then, Cavillo would remain above decks and manage his queasiness while watching his reddening skin peel.
The order of the holy inquisitors, Vlamms Statt, Alpes a septentrionali imperium, Kafair, and 4 othersNew Imperial Britannia, Droiden, Best rwanda, and Rusliv
The Ranch, The Ruby Ranch Republic
July 7th and 8th YOLGNS 2020
The Droideneans rose upon the third day. They had a lust for blood and a desire to destroy the enemy. They began their assault at 04:00 hours, crushing the Ranchian Deployment at the gate, and charging through the city. The Ranchians stood no chance. The push was strong, and the Droideneans nearly breached the palace on three separate occasions. But, by the grace of whatever god the Ranchians worship, they were spared from complete destruction. The Droideneans held the majority of the city, with only the palace being barely held by Ranchian Forces. But, by some miracle, the Droideneans decided to celebrate their victory too early, and as the sun began to set, the Ranchians launched a last ditch attack against the drunken Northmen.
The attack was fierce. The Droideneans were caught way off guard, and many fell to Ranchian gunfire. The Droideneans were pushed back. Not just out of the city, but even back to Hamburg. There, Droidenean Reinforcements aided their kinsmen, but the Ranchians had also picked up some reinforcements. The Droideneans and Ranchians clashed at the city wall, the Ranchians eventually pushing into the city, albeit not very far. The Droideneans held their line, and only ceded a few metres at most. The Droideneans, as they were told to during the Siege of The Ranch, took the fingers from every captured Ranchian soldier they could. They would soon make another attack. The Droideneans were surprisingly optimistic about the coming fight.
The Ruby Ranch Republic, The order of the holy inquisitors, Russia major, Vlamms Statt, and 4 othersNew Imperial Britannia, Best rwanda, Rusliv, and Almadaria
Day 4 of the battle for Havana
Rebel troops leave their barricades. The police, who think the rebels have retreated, move up. As they begin to dismantle the barricade, suddenly, an IED goes off. Fifty officers die as rebels use the chaos to charge and secure the street.
The rebels close in on the city hall, with street fighting intense as RPGs, AK-47s, and police and National Guard guns are heard all around the city. The airforce is called in and do airstrikes against rebel barricades and rebel held precincts.
Casualties
1,000 officers, 234 National Guard, 5,200 rebels, 7,000 civilians.
Progress: Rebels 25% to victory
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Vlamms Statt, and Almadaria
Wiesbaden, The Ruby Ranch Republic, July 8, 2020
The air of the Republic is filled with sonic booms. One of the most infamous fighter jet squadrons in the region approaches. The Raptor jets, painted yellow and black like hornets, buzz over the sleeping city of Wieshaden. The humming black bombers follow, the red lights on their wings the only illumination in the sky.
The Hornets.
Boom
Artillery fire immediately rings through the air. Not directed at the Hornets, although it would be soon. The jet pilots adjusted their HUD and focused their crosshairs on a nearby mortar position, established by the nation of 
Vlamms Statt.
"Check 2, check 2, heat seekers, ready, roger, out."
And for a moment the air was still with complete silence.
"In, fire!"
Vlamms Statt, Best rwanda, Rusliv, and Almadaria
The clattering of a medical syringe can be heard to all within the room. Luckily for the sole occupant of the room, the clock struck twelve, indicating the turn past midnight. Not many would be up and about at this time.
Lance Excellence laid back in his recliner chair, a soft smile gracing his muzzle. A small notebook and a small paper bag left on the table next to him. A portrait was hung above the fireplace as the fire continued to crackle.
Everything was going well, the plan will be in motion soon. Lance can expect Eric, that damn Pegasus, to carry out his part of the bargain. Unless of course he wanted his drug trade to be exposed to the world, he chuckled a bit.
A younger version of him stared down at him in disappointment, probably at his morphine usage. He couldn’t really tell as he felt the drug circulated within his system, the smile left his system. A tan unicorn mare stood next to his younger self, he could see the flowing brown mane, for a tad moment he could feel it, smell it’s strawberry scent. Her loving forelegs…
He shifted in his seat, and levitated over another syringe over from the bag next to him, he angled it over his left foreleg, where many red dots covered near his elbow. The syringe plunged into his system again, and the small smile returned.
It would all be done soon, the life of the Governor Guard Captain was no easy job. But at least if the governorship was stronger, his life would be a tad more easier.
…
…
The night sky had some clouds tonight, peering through his telescope, Eric Carter could spot several planets well from his backyard. It was a beautiful sight to behold.
Pulling himself away from his telescope as he heard the sound of metal clattering. Eric turned to see a fellow pegasus enter his backyard.
“Hail!” He shouted, raising his right hoof into the sky.
“Hail!” The visitor returned, full saddlebags was something Eric’s eyes caught. Seemingly more than a usual late night beer run could bring.
“You got the chemicals?”
“Of course, Eric, of course!” Came the reply from the eccentric pegasus mare. Using her wings, she passed to him a bag of supplies. Eric looked within the bag, smiling as he saw the contents of the bag.
“Thank you very much, Umno Zheniya, couldn’t make this without your help,”
The lavender pegasus smiled. “Of course, dear,”
…
…
…
The wind blew in the sky faintly, leaves being ruffled while an occasional bird flew in the night sky. The lights in the Governor Palace flickered off in some rooms, while the hallways stayed on. It was an impressive building, a gate blocking everything off, with only a few designated entry points.
The %%Mistranslation%Occured%%Light%of%Night%% slowly entered the kitchen of the Governor Palace, and looked around the dark kitchen. His horn lit up before his own eyes began glowing. He looked around again before spotting several plates on the kitchen counter.
He quickly walked over to it, and pulled out a bottle from his saddlebags, sprinkling whatever contents in it onto the sandwich sitting nice and happily undisturbed on the counter. It was soured and became anger as the contents of the bottle was thrown on it.
%%Mistranslation%Occured%%Light%of%Night%% smiled before lighting up his horn. And disappearing.
The Second Sun will get it’s successor within 24 hours.
Praise be the Second Sun.
…
…
…
The sky soon lit up as the sun rose in the sky. Cars began to fill up the streets as more and more people began going to work. Most of the populace of Calavaria were either Kirins or Unicorns. But the occasional human was here and there. What we do to provide for a living does not matter for us right now, let us instead focus on one of these citizens, Lina Emin.
Stumbling out of her and Patrick’s bedroom, Lina was disheveled and bags under her eyes. A wreck of a broken alarm clock was on the floor in the bedroom, presumably from Lina throwing the clock against a wall in anger over being woken up.
Lina stumbled across the hallways of the Governor Palace, giving greetings to each of the servants, janitors, and bureaucrats she met on the way, dodging them wherever she met into them.
She soon stumbled into the kitchen, where several chefs were already up and about working on their individual tasks. A certain chef - a Kirin with a green coat - motioned Lina over, pulling over a plate of sandwiches.
Lina thanked the lad, and went on her journey to her office, a plate of sandwiches on her back. Was it her or were they slightly more soggy today?
Pushing open the door to her office, she placed the plate on her desk as she booted her computer up. Hopefully there wouldn’t be as much emails as usual. She took a bite of a sandwich as she leant back on her chair, waiting for the computer - an old Pear Model - she thought about her earlier suspicions were true and how soggy today’s sandwiches were.
Finishing the sandwiches and logging onto her computer, she skimmed over the twenty or so emails that had appeared in her inbox. Goddamn that stallion Eric Carter, he should really stop emailing her to try and increase banking security! She would probably need to contact the Ministry of Finances about tha-
Her thought process was interrupted as she began coughing. Adjusting her sitting position she continued working, slowly being interrupted by more and more coughing fits.
She eventually got out her desk mid coughing fit, intended for the infirmary when she began vomiting.
A servant outside just so happened to walk in at this moment, spotting her boss vomiting on the carpet, she carefully rushed over to help her over to infirmary, what mid way her vision slowly began to darken at the edges, a headache emerging before knocking herself out mid way.
The servant called for help, guard rushing in to move the Governor to the Infirmary, and panic was slowly setting in the Palace, with rumors of the Governor’s deteriorating situation panicking everyone.
The most unfortunate of circumstances, but yet the most fortunate for some...
The Ruby Ranch Republic, The order of the holy inquisitors, Yohaness, Best rwanda, and 1 otherRusliv
Day 8 of the Battle of Havana
Rebels make progress as they near the city hall. With Pak 43 guns bought from the black market, they fire into the police and some of the last precincts in hopes of crushing the spirit of the Loyalist forces. This resulted in the opposite as anti-Green Army militias form, resulting in the Red Army becoming a new major force. Whilst Havana is in ruins from air strikes and artillery, the rest of the colonies are unsettled with protests starting up.
Casualties
Police - 2,500
NG - 500
Green Army - 5,750
Red Army - 56
Civilians - 15,000
Hamburg, The Ruby Ranch Republic
July 9, YOLGNS 2020
12:00 hours
The Droideneans hold strong against the Ranchian forces. There is an attempt to break into the city, but the Norsemen stop them. The Barricades hold strong, and many of the Droideneans enter the berserkergang. Droidenean steel drinks Ranchian blood oncemore as the Norsemen surround the Ranchian forces. Heads roll, arms flop onto the ground as the Berserkergang takes the Droideneans. The Ranchians are pushed back through the city, fleeing from the Droideneans war cry, "Blood, Blast, Fire!" Any captured Ranchians are executed, tongues ripped out, and eyes stabbed. The Norsemen save two Ranchians. One shall keep his tongue, one shall keep an eye. They are sent on their way back to The Ranch, to show the result of the battle to King Valek: a disastrous defeat.
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Best rwanda, Rusliv, Almadaria, and 1 otherFree america movement
Day 12 of the Battle of Havana
The Loyalist front line broken as their forces retreat from the Green Army. All across of Cuba the governmental buildings were seized around the same time. Either tomorrow or in two days, the island would be taken along with most of the other Caribbean islands.
The rebels rushed the city hall. Many fell in the battle but the Loyalists were heavily overwhelmed. The Red Army was fighting in the city as well but their stronghold was not Cuba. The Cuban governor was taken into custody by the Green soldiers and put in a convoy to be escorted to the base of General Bullock, the de facto leader of the Greens.
The battle comes to an end as small pockets of Loyalists either surrender or die.
Casualties
Police - 3,600
NG - 2,250
Green Army - 6,900
Red Army - 135
Civilians - 17,250
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Best rwanda, and Almadaria
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Kafair, Best rwanda, Rusliv, and 1 otherAlmadaria
“Damned generals! ¡Perros peludos! I ask each one if they can do it-- they say sí, but then those cretins give me this! They say--” Arbelaez swung himself up and shakily stepped towards his desk. On it, a large green paper folder labeled “Plan Operativo Tordesillas” and stamped in black ink, “Clasificado” sat with its contents lain open. Arbelaez took a moment to steady himself against the desk and found the ammunition to fuel his rant.
“They say, ‘Atacar a un vecino más grande, cuando está rodeado geográficamente, debe considerarse inviable. ‘ ¡Al infierno con ellos! If they cannot even entertain the thought of war, then why are they attached to the Ministry of War? I need generals, not maricas.”
Finding that he could not sustain a private rant any longer, Arbelaez reached over the plans and poured himself another drink. As he brought the glass level to his now-rosy cheeks, the door to his study quietly opened.
“¿Qué? What is it?” Arbelaez spat, setting his glass down with a clack. A greying woman stepped into the room in a flowery dressing gown. Wrinkles had begun to permanently set into her face as age took its toll, but the suppressed expression in her eyes and dark lines under her eyes had no help from the natural process. Her uncalloused hand on the door had a gold ring around one finger.
“Sergio, something came in the mail.” The woman said, her downcast eyes hardly even reaching Arbelaez’s feet.
Arbelaez scoffed. “Teresa, you can’t come in here por una maldita cuenta. Woman, get out.”
Teresa Arbelaez drew a letter from her nightgown’s pocket without showing any effect from her husband’s words.
“I really think you ought to read it. It’s from Idoya.” She said, with little to no inflection in her voice.
Sergio’s aggressive posture dropped and his expression softened to one nearly of guilt. After thinking on it, Arbelaez regained his composure.
“Come here, give me it.” Arbelaez said coldly. Teresa entered the study and handed it off; Sergio set to work opening it with a letter opener and sloppily opened the envelope.
Its contents consisted of a single piece of business paper, folded in three. Across its face was a typed message.
Dear Father, Mother;
I hope this letter reaches you, and that you choose to read it. Father, I hope the years since I left with my fiancé haven’t been too harsh to you. Mother, I pray you’ve gotten better from your apparent sickness.
I’ve written you to let you know that we (my fiancé, Tristán Vallejos, and I) do not feel at peace in Palma Roja, particularly since you put our home under surveillance and have violated our privacy at every turn; and as such, we are compelled to go abroad so that we may have our wedding reception without the presence of the National Police. I am disappointed that you, a leader of a world nation, feel that it is intolerable that I go pursue life and my own pursuits. After all, I was never able to choose for myself in your household, so I feel it only natural that I attempt some semblance of a normal life once I am free.
And soon, I will be. We will send you postcards of where we’ve been should we feel you and your bodyguards have behaved themselves.
Sincerely, your daughter,
Idoya Arbelaez- soon to be Vallejos.
Arbelaez passed the letter off to Teresa without comment, instead working his jaw and pacing. Teresa read the letter quickly, holding a hand over her heart as she did so. She had just reached the end of the letter when Arbelaez had had enough time to think of it.
“That brat! Who does she think she is?!” Sergio shouted with a noticeable slur in his speech. Teresa gently put the unfolded letter on the desk without heeding her husband’s anger.
“Sergio, we ought to write to her-- at least try to reconcile, else we’ll never see her again,” Teresa said unsteadily, with her glazed eyes lost in thought.
“What would we possibly write to her? Heh? ‘Oh, please, come back, we’ll forgive your insults and disobedience?’ Beg on our hands and knees? Right-- we can do that after she breaks it off with that sleazy business student. Why, I ought to have her arrested and brought back.” Sergio growled.
“No, Sergio, don’t do that! Think about it: she’s our daughter! You can’t just go about arresting our family!” Teresa’s face contorted into a despairing expression.
“Ever since we allowed her to go to that college, it’s been nothing but backtalk and disrespect from Idoya-- ‘Oh, I want this degree, I want to follow dream’-- Nothing but that mierda, then she goes and falls in love with some good-for-nothing nobody. If I don’t teach her a lesson, then someone else will!” Arbelaez said, his voice raised.
“What would--” Teresa bit in a hushed voice. “What would our son think of this?” These words seemed to have an effect on Sergio, who released the tension in his shoulders. “He looks up to you, Sergio. What would go through his head when you abuse your position to win an argument with his older sister?”
Arbelaez’s eyes darted to a framed picture on a shelf in the corner of the room before he responded. “Fine, I won’t.” He sighed, taking a seat. “It was just an idea anyway.”
Teresa’s expression relaxed, and as she left the room, did a slight curtsy before quietly closing the door to the study.
Arbelaez sat back into his chair and tried to make out his son’s face in the framed photo.
There Antonio was, in FADAA dress uniform, with Sergio’s arm around his shoulder. Their long shadows were cast across the concrete of the airbase where Antonio was stationed at the time, and it had been a beautiful day to that point. Sergio felt a warmth in sternum as he fondly remembered how his son was one of the youngest lieutenants in the Air and Air Defense Forces.
That warmth left him as he thought more about it. He brushed aside the dreary invasion plans to pour himself another drink.
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Vlamms Statt, Kafair, Yohaness, and 3 othersBest rwanda, Rusliv, and Free america movement
The North Sea.
Ireland.
Canada.
The war raged on.
As British troops clashed with Droideneans, and great battle-ships tore through their enemies with surprising ease, High Command began to put together a plan. It would consist of three stages.
Scotland.
“Comrade Carter?”
It had been hell getting to this last bastion of Communism. It was an old, abandoned group of concrete storage buildings, but when the company that owned it went bankrupt they abandoned these storage facilities. It was then repurposed by the British Communists as a base of operations, being largely ignored by the Government.
“Yes.”
“Welcome to the Party.”
The war was an opportunity. Should the war effort fail enough, Britannia would be weakened to the point where there at least was an opportunity to start a revolution. But the largest obstacle was not the government itself. The Revolution would take care of that. It was in fact the cynicism and apathetic attitude of the workers, long disillusioned with the Communists after several failed revolutions.
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Russia major, Vlamms Statt, Kafair, and 6 othersDroiden, Yohaness, Best rwanda, Rusliv, Almadaria, and Free america movement
The Ranch, The Ruby Ranch Republic
July 12, 2020
13:00 hours
The Droideneans had pushed far. For 6 days they were on the run from the Ranchians, and only now did they have the advantage of oncemore having the enemy on the backfoot. The Droideneans swept through Northern Ruby Ranch swiftly, their skill in battle unmatched. The Men of God and Gylo had pushed to The Ranch oncemore.
"Soldiers of Droiden! The Ruby Ranch will stand or fall by what we do here today! Will we let these Ranchians do to Urbeaurum what they did to Hamburg? Will we let them burn our lands? Will we let them destroy the Golden Throne? No! We make our stand here, today, for the whole of Droiden, the Northern Pillar, and the Golden Throne!" Lord-General Rian Fhearghail rallies his men. Cheers erupt from them.
"We must hold fast until we can breach the palace and capture King Valek I. We mustn't cede a metre, nay, a centimetre of land! We must bring down the Ruby Ranch Republic, and that is what we shall do here today! Soldiers of Droiden! Do you stand with me?"
A loud, very frightening cry erupts from the mouths of the berserkers. A great pounding sound comes from the stomping feet of the heavy infantry. The Droideneans cry "Blood! Blast! Fire!" and begin what would become the Second and Final Assault of The Ranch.
"Forward! Blood! Blast! Fire!" The Lord-General brought down the Great Gate, and the Droideneans charged through the city. They met much resistance, as the Ranchian defenders put up one hell of a fight. The Droideneans fell, one for every two Ranchians. The Berserkergang had consumed many of the men, some of whom simply collapsed from the stress and pressure that the berserkergang put on the men. Even the Lord-General was not immune to the effects of the Breath of the Old Gods.
The Droideneans pushed on once more, not taking one step back. They had assaulted with the entirety of the Great Starist Knights, a force of about 170 thousand, having lost 30 thousand to the First Assault of The Ranch and the Battles at Hamburg. These losses would go unanswered no longer. The Droideneans pushed on.
"For the Kongur! For the Kongurreich! Blood! Blast! Fire!" The Lord-General's voice rises above the deafening cries of battle and the booming sounds of gunfire and explosion. As the Lord-General finished his cry, a young Ranchian Soldier, shot the general through the chest. The Lord-General fell to the ground. Cold, limp...
and lifeless...
The Droideneans, upset at the loss, charged oncemore, angered and bloodthirsty, and took the position from which the Young Ranchian Soldier shot the Lord-General, beheading the soldier and cutting the tongue from it's head. The Droideneans pushed on again, nearing the palace that they had seen many times before. The King of The Ruby Ranch Republic awaited them, and this time, he would not slip through their fingertips.
The Palace Guard was as strong as ever. But, this time, the Droideneans had superior numbers, and pushed forward. Finally, as the Great Clock chimed at 16:00, three hours after the battle had begun, the Droideneans breached the palace. There was much destruction in the Ranchian Palace. Fine sofas, chandeliers, and oil paintings of the past Kings of the Ruby Ranch were destroyed. As the Droideneans made their way into the palace, the resistance was much lighter. Apparently, the Ranchians didn't anticipate the Droideneans breaching the palace. The last remnants of the Ranchian Royal Guard fell, and Valek stood in front of the Droideneans.
"You have come a long way, Northmen. You are indeed strong, but what do you think killing me would accomplish? The cities of Munich and Cologne stand free from your holding."
Valek is punched in the jaw, a sickening crunch sounding as the fist of a Droidenean makes contact with the King. Valek staggers back, obviously in pain. Valek's wife, Tatianna, rushes over to him.
"Back away, woman. We will not harm you, for you are Kyavani. We will let you go free, along with your children. But he will suffer." General Magnus Kirkegaard speaks, before turning his attention back to Valek, who struggled at the grip of the Droideneans.
"Keep struggling, and we won't hesitate to take three fingers."
Valek glared at the Droideneans, as if daring them to do it
"Do you WANT to be hanged by your own intestines?"
Valek stopped glaring.
As the Ranchian flag lowered, the Droidenean Flag rose over the Ranch. It was a day of success and victory, and the perfect answer to the losses suffered by Droiden.
The Ruby Ranch Republic, The order of the holy inquisitors, Karelignia, Russia major, and 7 othersVlamms Statt, Kafair, New Imperial Britannia, Yohaness, Best rwanda, Rusliv, and Almadaria
Ireland.
The first part of securing the British Isles was to push towards Cork. This would effectively split the island in half, allowing for much better military manoeuvres.
So the armies gathered at the city of Sligo, in order to push to Cork.
The initial push was successful, managing to make it halfway across the island. With the goal in sight, and the Droideneans falling faster than ever before, the commanders got overconfident...
The Battle of Athlone.
“Blood, Blast, Fire!”
Battle cries could be heard all across the city. As Brits clashed with Droideneans, what was once a brilliant victory began to turn into a tied struggle. Yet High Command didn’t care. They had a great advantage, having made the push to Athlone in mere days.
This, however, would be the turning point of the battle. Devon’s Twelfth Regiment was tasked with holding the line against an expected assault, yet the night before the regiment had been extremely lax on its discipline. With many soldiers drunk and unable to fight, the regiment shattered.
The line had breached.
The neighbouring Thirteenth Regiment transmitted the news to High Command. They, however, were powerless to stop the break in the front line.
Athlone, July 13th.
The armies reorganized quickly. The partying had only spread to a few regiments, and harsh discipline stopped whatever remained. However, once the breach opened, there was no closing it.
The city had been decimated with artillery and gunfire, as well as bombs and missiles of air forces. Slowly, but surely, the Droideneans tore through the British line, and began pushing them back.
It was not all successful for the Droideneans however. The British Army attempted to make a push back, and although it was initially successful, the deaths stopped it from going further.
The offensive had inflicted heavy casualties to both sides, but it was a victory for the Droideneans. The British troops had been forced back to Sligo, where they begin preparing for the Droidenean attack...
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Russia major, Droiden, Best rwanda, and 2 othersRusliv, and Almadaria
CLASSIFIED: For personnel of K-2 Status or higher ONLY.
From: His Grace, Glavnyy-marschal Vladislav Khilkov, Exterior Executive Minister, Grand Duke of Novgorod etc.
To: Feldmarschal Manya Pushkina, CO Middle Eastern Front.
The Kyavani east has been classified strategically safe, the presence of the Warlord in the area renders any Kafairian assault unlikely, you are to relocate the 1st Noble Corps to the Bosphorus immediately, your target is the Kyavani-held city of Izmit, Kafairian assault is imminent, reinforce the Kyavanis and dig in. Your transport is under way, Glavnyy-admiral Gradisova and the Black Sea Fleet with a large number of merchant ships. Heavy artillery use is advised, report to Local Kyavani Commander upon arrival.
May the Wisdom of Rod, the Strength of Perun, and the Light of Belobog shine upon you and your men.
VK
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Russo-Zentralreich Border, Russia Major
Feldmarschal Valeriya Pavlovna sat in her command tent, reading and re-reading her plans as the voices of two Nebo-glavnyymarschals disappeared into droning white noise, Khilkov's plan was audacious to say the least. But the man had a reputation for a reason.
"Feldmarschal, Feldmarschal!"
Nebo-glavnyymarschal Tsereteli cocked an eyebrow as Valeriya jerked upright in her seat.
"Feldmarschal, I hope the details of our plans are not boring to you."
"No, no, not at all Vasiliy. Shall we go over the plan once more?"
"Certainly. We will begin with a bombardment by your forces to draw the Zentralians into expecting a frontal assault, meanwhile my fighters, and the craft under the Central Command, as well as Nebo-nizhemarschal Yusupov's craft, will aim for fuel depots, munitions dumps, and vehicle stores. This is a maximum damage-minimal casualties operation, no protracted air battles will take place, interceptor fighters and SAM batteries will stand by to scare the Zentralians away from the border, with any luck this will provoke them to attack, providing the necessary opening for Glavnyy-feldmarschal Khilkov's plan. Feldmarschal, are we ready to proceed?"
"Yes, sir, the attack begins now."
As Pavlovna called down her radio for the attack to begin, the first shells and rockets whizzed overhead towards the zentralian lines, the air assault was soon to come.
The Ruby Ranch Republic, MineLegotia and Equestria, The order of the holy inquisitors, Best rwanda, and 1 otherRusliv
Boston, 12:43 EST, July 10th, 2020
The protests have been going on for weeks now about wanting independence as a nation. Though, not many support the movement.
During the protests, suddenly a few gunshots were heard. As a result, the police were charged by the protesters. After an hour, over 100 arrests were made, 9 protesters killed and 16 injured, along with 3 dead officers and 6 injured.
The Ruby Ranch Republic and Almadaria
General Hamlan O’Myers rode his horse down a dirt path. It had been a very long march, for him and his troops, the 32nd Bosca Division. They had been marching for about a week now, they were tired and starving. O’Myers knew that the troops needed to rest, but they had a mission and that was to support the Loyalists at the holy city of Dubrovnik, a fortress city that had belonged to the great Kyavani emperor, Marcus II. The Loyalists were trapped within the city walls as the Thronists sieged them. Their orders were to support the Loyalists. O’Myers had read about the city, he was sure that the Thronists would be trapped between two armies and would have to surrender. But, this situation was very familiar to him, he didn’t know why, but he felt like this very scenario had been done before. But that optimistic feeling would soon fade as a message from command would make the general sick to his stomach. The capital city, The Ranch had fallen to the Norsemen and the royal family had been captured, he was heartbroken, but he had to carry on.
A few hours later the soldiers were nearing the the city, where the loyalists were supposedly bombarding and sieging the city. The men came upon the mountains that blocked the view of the city. The men were scared, many of them whispered among themselves while they rested. They were talking about how they weren't ready for this kind of battle and how they were thinking of leaving and going back to their homes. The general overheard these conversations and knew he needed to motivate the men. He needed to make a speech. Although the general hated speeches, he tried to motivate his men.
“I know, we are about to go through hell and back. It will be tough, I don’t even know if any of us will make it out alive, but if this victory is achieved, we may have a chance to turn the war in our favor, if not, so what? We served our country well and that is what you should be most proud of. Fighting and dying for one's country is what makes our army what we are, we are willing to sacrifice anything to support our friends, family, and country. We might lose, we might win, but we should all be proud of what we are doing. We should be proud of what we do for our country. Let us turn the tide of this war and retake our homeland!”
The men cheered, their spirits lightened up, even though this was one of the most dangerous missions they ever had, they felt confident and that was the most important thing for them
The order of the holy inquisitors, Russia major, Salcanceacy, Best rwanda, and 2 othersRusliv, and Free america movement
Official communique from the Waffle Foreign Affairs office
With the rapid deterioration of the diplomatic situation between the Watester Concordat and the Phalangite League, along with the issues on our borders. The Waffle Empire declares its full support for the WTC and The Ruby Ranch Republic. As such, a state of war is hereby declared against the Golden throne, and by extension the PL. long may the Golden Throne rule, over an Empire of Ash
400k men under command of General Edmund Frost shall begin making defensive preparations along the border with the Vlamms Statt
the Holland Strike Group command of Admiral Florian Courtois, shall sail south into the Atlantic. their goal tbd
The Hesse Strike group under command of Admiral Winfried Dufort shall sail north to eliminate the threat of Droidenean carrier groups
The Ruby Ranch Republic, Russia major, Best rwanda, and Rusliv
Post self-deleted by Kafair.
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