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Beauregard

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The air traffic controller posted at Cape Town Airbase sat up in his chair, staring at the six new contacts coming in very fast from the south. Signatures matched those of Osean warplanes. As per the Dominate's "Aggressive Defence" policy, fighters were immediately scrambled. As the jets screamed down the runway, the controller turned on his radio.

"Oseans, you have unauthorized military planes in Drakian airspace. Leave or you will be shot down."

The voice came back was rushed, but calm.

"We have your Deputy Mininster on this plane. He's shot and dying, we came to get medical treatment for him. Where is the nearest airport we can land?"

The traffic controllers eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

"Osean aircraft, divert to Cape Town Airbase, sending you coordinates. Be advised, you will be taken under escort, any divergence from the given route will result in defensive measures to be taken."

The air traffic controller's supervisor was already on the phone to the base commander. "Call Cape Town General Hopsital, get them out here as soon as possible! Clear all civilian air traffic."

All across the airbase, alarms began to ring out.

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Knowing that now the Primarch was safe, the escort fighters peeled off, heading to Osea. The small learjet touched down on the runway, amid the screaming sirens. The Osean learjet taxied to the gate, where they were greeted by Drakian medical personnel, clad in white uniforms and showing no emotion as they carted the Deputy Minister off to the Hospital.

2 hours later.....

The Primarch and his security detail sat in Drakian military custody. It was less of an arrest, more of a security measure to keep them safe, should the terrorists be in Drakia as well. They were sitting on a rather comfortable couch, the men were tired but refused to sleep. The Primarch, mulling over a plan he just devised, heard footsteps coming down the hallway towards his room. A high ranking Drakian official, he presumed.

Edited by King Steve VII

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The large amount of aircraft movement had sparked the interest of the Portian military. A single unmanned, unarmed drone was dispatched to look over the site of the activity. The camera feed picked up on the Osean Deputy Minister on a gurney, bleeding. The drone operator turned to his commander, "Holy.."

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[OOC: Its the Drakian Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs, ******** went down at the Defense Summit :P]

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[OOC: It's actually my guy, but welcome back anyway ]

In through the door stepped two of the Archonal Guard. Jet black armour, fully enclosed helmet and wielding a rather large rifle, they were the best Drakia had to offer. The two figures took up position on either side of the door, making way for Archon Beauregard to step though.

"Primarch, welcome to Drakia, though I wish it were under better circumstances." he said, offering a hand.

Edited by Beauregard

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The two men shook hands.

"As do I" responded the Primarch

"However, he continued, we have business to attend to. As we were flying over, I received a secure "call" from one of the two men that were shot boarding the jet on our evacuation. The terrorists took him back to their HQ and were interrogating him. His cell phone stayed active from when he was in contact with us before he was taken. We tracked it."

We cannot let this attack go unpunished. Many delegates lives were threatened, and the favor must be returned. I propose a joint operation between our two nations to locate and destroy this terrorist outpost. They are hiding out in the mountains south of Germainia. We are ready. Will you lend your support?

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(OOC, don't rush this yet. Nirvash and I have yet to reveal who they actually are, but I will tonight so you won't have to wait long)

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"I think we have just the man. But enough of politics, you and your men must be exhausted!" the Archon turned to a serf attendant. "Arrange more suitable accommodation for these men." "Yes master." the woman meekly replied, her head bowed. As she turned to leave, there was no way the Primarch would miss the tattooed letters and numbers on her neck. Beauregard wondered what the Osean would make of that.

"Get some rest. I'm hoping you and your people would join me for dinner, Primarch? It's the least we can do for you saving our man."

Edited by Beauregard

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"We would be honored to join you for dinner, Archon."

"7:00 sharp" the Archon said "We will proved transportation to and from your lodging"

The Archon led them to their car, bid them farewell, and the car drove away.

In the car, PFC Bradley whispered to the Primarch, "Sir, did you see the tattoo on that girl's neck? She's slave!"

"Yes," the Primarch replied. "I don't agree in the slightest with their ideals. However, they are a very powerful nation, and it would be best for Osea to stay on their good side."

The car pulled up to a large, formidable hotel. Another slave, this one a man, led them to their room, a very nice penthouse suite, and offered them complimentary services, including prostitution. This took the Osean guards by surprise, as in their state this was frowned upon. The party politely declined, and as wasOsean custom, Bradley tipped the slave man. The man's eyes widened and he snatched the money and shoved it in his pocket, looking around quickly. He whispered "bless you!" and walked away quickly.

"Don't do that again." the Primarch said. "It can be taken as an insult by higher-ups." "Yes Sir." Bradley replied apologetically

They walked around in the room. It was decorated beautifully, and had a very nice view of the Northern Sea. The Osean Prime Minister sat on the bed inside a small but cozy bedroom inside the suite, and seeing his guards' uneasy looks. Instituted a "watch", in which they would rotate sleeping. It was 3:00, a good four hours until dinner, so they would each get plenty of sleep. The Primarch took first watch, acknowledging the hard work his eight remaining men put in the previous day.

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LATER THAT NIGHT

"This was a very nice dinner, Archon." The President said.

"I trust you will have your forces at the coordinates I gave you at the appointed day and time?" the Primarch said. "We will be sending the best men from our 104th recon platoon, along with a squad of special forces-the ones you see with us right now."

Edited by King Steve VII

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"Everything will be in place. Together, we will cleanse this stain and ensure nothing like this ever happens again. Our two armies will stand side by side and we will stand upon the defeated enemy and cry out, "Let the world tremble!"."

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-Shield Wall Mountain Range; 300 miles South of Germainia-

Snow fell lightly over the small valley. It was summer in those mountains, meaning the temperature was slightly below freezing. The air was thin, and even the most hardened spec-ops soldiers ran out of breath quickly. However, Corporal Allen Davenport of the 104th recon platoon didn't let it bother him. He was lying prone in the snow, overlooking the supposed entrance to the Tribal HQ, along with three other men chosen from his platoon to go on this mission. He was dressed in stark white and black flecked camouflage, he wore a full face mask, covering all but his eyes, with a small vent by his nose and mouth for breathing. This, along with his tight fitting but warm gloves, and his waterproof insulated boots, was the typical Osean cold weather gear. What was not typical, however, was the rifle he held. It was small and compact, again, befitting of the Osean style of weaponry. It was also white and black flecked, with a waterproof and glare resistant scope mounted on top. The bolt was made so that when reloaded, it broke ice out of the chamber, making jams due to ice a thing of the past. However, because of it's weight and size, it didn't chamber larger calibers, and therefore was not suitable for stopping vehicles of piercing thick armor, as other rifles made by other countries were.

His spotter tapped him on the shoulder.

"Dav, the Drakian infiltration team is going in." PFC Jacob Howard said quietly "You remember the plan, right?" he asked

"Sure I do, Jake! We went over it a million times in briefing!

We stay out here. The Drakians go in and pull our man out, doing maximum damage as they go. Then, we pick off any guys coming out after them. After that, our spec ops guys drop in via helo toting a nice big bomb. Them and the Drakians go back in and plant the bomb, then the helo comes back and we all get the hell out before the peak explodes." Davenport said

"Just making sure." Howard said with a slight smile

Edited by King Steve VII

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The drone had been circling for hours now, the feed had continued to pick up very useful data. They weren't sure, but it was suspected that a movement of military action would be going on soon, the operator of the drone keyed a command into his second laptop, which sent a message straight to the desk of Dmitri Mikhailovich.

Dmitri was not expecting the message so soon, but he had known it would come, he turned to his aide, "Her Highness's Hands are needed.."

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Tetrarch Jansen loved the snow. He wasn't exactly sure why, but he supposed that it was because it reminded him of himself, cold, brutal and merciless to the careless.

He rubbed the goggles of his white gas mask, while not really expecting chemical warfare all they way up in the alps, but it had a certain intimidation factor to it. The rest of his gear was pretty much standard, white camo uniform, machete, a pump-action shotgun- a personal preference for Jansen, a t-5 Holbars Assault Rifle with silencer on his back, revolver sidearm, frag grenades, flash-bangs and a flare gun.

"Mission clocks synced. Go." He waved his squad forward. Slowly the twelve Citizen troopers made their way through the frozen forest, which ended 500 meters away from the enemy compound. It was an obvious point of attack, but there had been little else available. At least here they had some element of stealth, as Jansen doubted they would have gotten far in the open, even with their camouflage.

Soon enough, the Tetrarch spotted two figures having a smoke. He motioned for the squad to halt, then keyed his radio, "Hammer six, two tangos, eleven o'clock, do it quietly." The squad's sniper, Benning, crouched, then lined up his rifle. The two guards fell to the ground, soundless. The team advanced once more.

His unit had reached the clearing before the enemy base, about 500 meters away. Grabbing his binoculars, he observed the enemies movements. He did a quick headcount. On the radio again, "Anvil One, this is Hammer One, do you copy, over?"

"Read you Hammer, what's the party like, over?"

"Eyes on at least thirty bad guys, probably more inside. Also, two technicals and some machinegun emplacements, no sign of anti-air defences."

"Acknowledged, Hammer One. Want us to send in the Welcome Wagons?"

"That would be nice, Anvil One."

"Stand by, ETA three minutes, Anvil out."

Jansen turned to the men and women under his command. "Ladies and gentlemen, only a few days ago these ferals killed over a dozen citizens in cold blood, another is as we speak fighting for his life. This strike will be but a taste of the terror that is to come. By the time we are done here, tribal savages far and wide will fear us! Us, Citizens of Drakia, the greatest fighting force this world will ever see! Take the fight to them, brothers and sisters, show them what means to be a true warrior!"

Given that they were only a short distance away from the enemy, there were no cheers. But the Tetrarch could sense that his people were as ready as they'll ever be. He heard the constant thump-thump-thump of helicopter rotors, faintly at first, but getting louder. The Drakian soldiers had begun chanting an ancient war cry, softly at first, but louder as the choppers got ever closer.

A deep male voice came on the radio "Attention Hammer and Anvil Teams, this is Subjugator 1-1, beginning assault."

The two choppers, both Dominate HC-24 "Hydra" Assault Helicopters roared over the treeline, spewing rockets and tracer fire at the hapless enemy below. Both technicals lasted about four seconds, while countless gunmen were cut down before reaching cover. The HC-24 was designed as both a warhorse and a mule, armed with a rapid-fire chain gun, HE and AT rockets, while also being able to carry up to twelve men and the entire package protected by over 50mm of armour, Drakian troops affectionately called it the "flying tank". However all that came at a cost to speed, maneuverability and a relatively short range, it was only able to participate in the battle today because the Osean forces had carried extra fuel along with them.

As the the choppers were busy introducing themselves to the locals, Jansen waved his squad forward, all of them screaming "Bulala!! Bulala!! Bulala!!" It was an old tribal war chant taken from one of the Dominate's most difficult tribes to subdue. They raced across the open snow, spreading themselves out as much as possible. About a quater of the way to the entrance, they started taking fire.

Panting as he ran, Jansen yelled into his mic, "Anvil One, you're clear to engage!"

[OOC: I think you can guess, but my guys are "Hammer" and you're "Anvil". You can have my guys for a little while if you like too, fair's fair. Have fun.]

Edited by Beauregard

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(Just to be clear, my guys are on diagonals to the entrance, so your guys can see inside, and my guys can fire at the tribals behind some of thier cover, while yours cannot)

Davenport's spotter started spitting out information

"Tango, northwest, you see him?" said Howard

"Yea" said Davenport as he lined up his crosshairs on the man, who was crouching behind cover, firing an old AK at the yelling Drakians

Very quickly, Howard starting giving more info, "Wind is 5 mph west, with a crossbreeze halfway down the hill , adjust elevation 2 ticks up and 1 to the left.

Davenport adjusted and squeezed off a shot. The bullet sailed into the tribal's chest, ripping through one lung and tearing another. The tribal slumped. Davenport loaded a fresh round into the chamber. A hundred yards to the west they heard their other team fire. They kept the cadence, and alternated shots. The fire on the Drakians died down, but did not completely subside.

---------------------

The Tetrarch and his men sprinted down the hill, and slid into cover, using the slope to propel them. The Tetrarch was yelling orders, firing his assault rifle. He soon heard the shots ring out from the left and right. The enemy fire subsided momentarily as the untrained tribals ducked.

"MOVE" the Tetrarch yelled

The citizen troopers sprinted and once again slid into cover once the firing restarted. They were close enough now that the Tetrarch picked a grenade off of his belt and lobbed it in the direction of the fire.Again, more shots, again, the citizens moved up. As they slid into cover again, one of their solders was hit mid slide and fell flat on his back. No soldier turned back to look. They popped up in different places in random patterns to fire, so the tribals could not acquire them. Their aim was true, and many a tribal died there, but no matter how many died, more poured out of the cave entrance.

The Tetrarch muttered "********" under his breath. A Drakian commander didn't like to do what he was about to do.

"Anvil, we need the bomb team to come in, we've lost only one man, but too many of them are pouring out of the base. We won't be able to carry out our plan as is, we need reinforcements. Out."

"Hammer, this is Anvil 2-1, coming on in."

----------------

"That'd be it for now" Howard said

"Yep, their either in or almost in by now, we just need to wait for them to get out"

Their earpieces piped up

"Anvil 1, this is Anvil 2-1, change of plans...."

[Again, my guys are yours]

Edited by King Steve VII

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A few minutes earlier...

Tetrarch Jansen's team had torn though the tribal defences, with the Osean squad guarding the entrance and their only escape route. Inside, it looked more like a mine shaft. The prisoner was eventually found, conscious but far too exhausted to be running anytime soon- it looked like they'd kept him awake for days. A quick examination showed signs of torture.

"Tetrarch, I've found the power box." One of his people called in. "Anvil Team, be advised. We are going to cut the lights, might want to bring out the NVG's, otherwise pull out." Putting on his own night vision goggles, he calmly watched as one by one, lights flicked off, plunging the whole base into darkness. Holstering his weapon, Jansen pulled out a machete. "Men, it's duck huntin' season!" he laughed.

Although outnumbering their foes, the tribals had nothing to help them see in the dark. Panicked orders, random shots and screams cut short were the order of the day. It was a massacre.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first to come out was a pair of Drakian soldiers, one of which was carrying the Osean captive "He'll be alright," one of them called out to the onrushing Osean team "A decent sleep and a hot meal and he'll be good to go."

It was then the squad leader began hearing screams and gunfire within the base. They were less of a war cry and more cries of terror. "What the hell's going on in there?" he asked. The gas masked soldier shrugged his shoulders and laughed "You know how it is, all work and no play."

The squad leader was about to ask more when the remaining members of the Drakian squad walked out, absolutely drenched in blood and hauling several tribals out at gunpoint, their hands raised, looking utterly terrified.

The one the squad leader knew as Jansen walked over to him, pulling off his mask as he did so. "No need for that bomb. Base is secure, we couldn't have done it without you. As a token of our appreciation, you can take one of our prisoners to take home with you, might have something useful, maybe not." He grinned, then turning to his squad he ordered "Save one for us, and one for our friends here. Stick the rest."

The Drakian troops began heading to the treeline, cutting down some of the smaller trees. Bringing them back, small holes were made into the hard snow. The tree logs were sharpened at both end, and planted into the ground.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'What are they doing?" Davenport asked, observing the whole scene below.

"No idea, they're not doing anything with that bomb either." replied Howard.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Their work completed, Tetrarch Jansen waved a hand, and most of the tribals were moved towards the spikes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Osean squad had realized what was about to happen. Impalement was something from the darkest recesses of medieval history, now brought back to life in all of it's horrifying glory.

[OOC: All yours again. I did a bit on impalement in the "Love triangle" thread if you need more info. just my opinion, but I think we should wrap this little battle up soon.]

Edited by Beauregard

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Connors, waiting silently in the background, spoke up. "Tetrarch, that won't be necessary." he said "I'm not going to deny your fighting spirit, nor your ability to get results, but we don't condone this behavior. Bring them back to your country and do what you like with them, but we are both civilized peoples, not barbarians."

The sniper teams walked down the hill and stepped in the chopper, followed by the specops squad. Foley stepped out of the tunnel. "I know you guys told us that the bomb wasn't necessary, but they could always come back. Gotta make sure that's not possible. I suggest you guys extract within 10 minutes." he said to the Tetrarch. He then stepped into the chopper with the prisoners, and the Oseans flew away.

After the Drakians too, extracted, the peak exploded, raining snow, dirt, and rock everywhere. It was, from then on, known as Crater Peak, unmarked but not forgotten, a steadfast reminder of what happened there, and what it would bring...

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Primarch,

It is with great pleasure we note the amazing success of the operation south of Germania. It is the first time in the Dominate’s history that our forces have ever worked alongside another’s. Our commander made several notes in his report about the skill and bravery of your soldiers and they are to be commended.

The Dominate of Drakia invites the Osean Armed Forces to participate in wargames and other military exercises on our soil. While certainly no equivalent to combat experience, the Drakian Government feels that certain parts of warfare, such as logistics and communications can benefit immensely from large scale exercises. We would in particular like to meet your famed “Ghosts of Razgriz”.

Looking to hear from you,

Archon Beauregard

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