Beautiful Caladria

[Ayzek]

HIMS Picea Glauca
12 km NE of Histria Island
Earlier

"Swat it," the Picea Glauca captain ordered. No sane aviator would approach a navy ship on the best of days, much less during a conflict. If they were trying to get away from the occupation, they'd have flown straight to Argune. The captain was not willing to risk the two hundred men and women and two-and-a-half billion dollars he'd been entrusted with over an idiot at best and insurgent at worst.

As the civilian aircraft moved into range of the ship's last lines of defenses, the missile pods and CIWS stands swiveled and pitched, leading its trail. All of a sudden, one of the guns opened fire and 25mm rounds tore through the civilian aircraft. One of the wings was lost before the burst stopped and the aircraft banked in the other direction, tumbling into the waters.

"Execute a search of any surface wreckage," the captain commanded, watching it crash a few hundred kilometers east of his ship, "and report the incident up the latter." At some point later, the empire would conduct a more in-depth search of the floor.


Caladrian Coast Guard Group
5 km SE of Caladria
8:16 P.M., 26 Fein

"Oscar 12, come in Oscar 12," came a reply over the radio. "This is Charlie Four Four Two of the Holy Lanlanian Imperial Navy on an interception course with your group. We must search your vessels to determine best course of action. Will you comply? Over."

Though still a distance over the horizon, there were indeed half a dozen helicopters flying low over the ocean towards the coast guard vessel and its charges.


Southern Histria Island, Caladria
20 km south of Southern City
05:54 A.M., 27 Fein

Holy Lanlanian marines were the first coalition conventional forces to land on Histria. Much like Polonda, the empire's U.A.V.s lead the effort, ensuring the marines had immediate air support available as they touched ground. However, as special forces had confirmed the site's safety earlier in the night, there were far fewer drones in the sky.

Nonetheless, the marines, arriving in amphibious personnel carrier and hovercraft, advanced up Highway 7 to the near city, where they'd secure landing zones for reinforcement by helicopter. After securing the city and its meager facilities, the coalition planned to quadruple its ground commitment to over 6,000, which'd spread out to secure the southern and western halves of the island before advancing on Histria in force.

The penal brigadiers would continue to wait.


Polonda, Caladria
27 Fein

Contrary to Vestor misinformation, the Holy Lanlanian landing was ultimately tame. The heavy drones lead the charge not only to highlight coalition firepower superiority, but to minimize the risk to coalition servicemen at their most vulnerable. However, the nonexistence fortifications and lackluster token resistance by coup forces lead to zero airstrikes or naval artillery requests. Instead, the Skörd H.C.S. drones primarily provided heavy suppressive fire to coalition infantry as they swept the island and secured key locations.

Within a handful of hours, the coalition forces had largely secured the island and isolated pockets of resistance. Resources were then focused on the refugee camps that had formed after evacuations of villages and towns closer to the erupting volcano. As coalition vehicles and helicopters aided in such evacuation efforts, food, medicine, and other humanitarian supplies were ferried in from Argune.

Civilian casualties nonetheless existed, of course. However, rather than the result of coalition fire support, they came primarily from IEDs planted by resistance forces and stray gunfire as coalition forces pressured resistance pockets.

Explosions would, however, occur later in the day, as military engineers assisted Caladrian civilian planners in attempts to route lava flows away from inhabited areas.

[Hadash]

Bradea, Caladria | 22 Fein 1582

The "pacification" had taken more time than expected, to the exasperation of Lieutenant-Colonel Savel Paunescu, who was aware that a quickly successful military victory was the main chance for the success of the operation. However, the quickly mobilization of the Fifth Brigade of Bradea, which Paunescu had been informed that it was likely to remain neutral or at least waiting enough time so the center of the city was in the control of the combined rebel forces of policemen, mercenaries, para-military groups, and special forces, had caught them by surprise, and they were forced to withdraw to the port town and the suburbs around the island airport.

However, as soon as the reinforcements came from Histria, a new offensive started. The Fifth Brigade was forced to regroup around the central districts of Bradea, as Yuri Bogand, leading the unknown and unidentified Vestor Mandate Ranger Corps was pushing his troops with a decisive attack. Meanwhile, the rebel forces led by Carpathian mercenary Mircea Monteanu pushed back from the north. At the end of the evening, the Fifth Brigade and the remaining loyal policemen where forces to withdraw to the third district of the city, inside the Office of General Administration and the Bradea Assembly.

The Bradea Assembly had been under intense fighting during hours, resulting in important material damage and twenty people -seven of them lawmakers from several parties- dead. One of the halls of the building had collapsed, after artillery fire started to shoot intensively. Speaker Simona Hasdeu took the decision of surrender, as resistance seemed futile once Histria was under complete control of rebel forces. She was not willing to become responsible of more casualties.

The members of the Assembly were arrested, and Monteanu ordered they were moved to different secret locations, according to their importance and rank.

The next day, Lieutenant-Colonel Savel Paunescu announced the appointment of several provisional committees in charge of local affairs in each of the Caladrian islands. In the case of Bradea, it was formed by a seven-member committe, formed by two military officer, a police officer, two local members of the center-right Republican Party, and two members of the far-right National Unity Party.

---

Histria, Caladria | 27 Fein, 1582

Lieutenant-Colonel Savel Paunescu was meeting with a group of men. Paunescu's expression was serious and gloomy, as things didn't end as well as planned. Leaving Puscas behind wasn't such a great idea, after all. But it was too late for any lament.

"My men are prepared", Petre Florian told Paunescu. "But it is not much they can do against such threat. We can offer enough resistance so the invasion is slowered, or even postponed. But I can't see many options right now".

"I am aware of that", Paunescu said. "Our only option is to postpone the invasion and force them to offer negotiations. But that may only be enough to save the face, not much more".

"Situation is getting out of control in some of the southern and northern districts...", Ion Popescu, a former lawmaker who was appointed in charge of civilian issues in Histria, said. "Those Skathian mercenaries are giving orders to civilians in those districts they guard, ordering to leave their houses and moving them to several places. They don't speak the language, so civilians are getting nervous. This is not helping us".

"That must be stop", Paunescu. "What are those idiots doing?".

"They are obeying orders", Bogdan Nesterovek replied. "But they tend to obey them in a peculiar way. Don't worry, I already gave orders to solve this issue".

"Let's hope that's the case", Paunescu. "We have more important things to deal with in the coming days".

"I was meeting that Bogand later anyway", Bogdan said.

"Just tell them clearly which are the orders and who's in charge. If they fail to understand, just execute 50 or 80 of those brigadiers", Czeslaw Stryjkowsky said to Bogdan.

The Caladrian translator doubted about translating that. "It's time to be prepared", Stryjkowsky added. "We meet again in 24 hours, if necessary. Let's see how the deployments are working". Stryjkowsky, Nesterovek, and Florian left the room.

---

A hour later, a jeep carrying Stryjkowsky, Nesterovek and Florion stopped in a square surronded by large industrial warehouses, only a few minutes from the northern port of Histria. Hundreds of men, most of them wearing military or para-military uniforms, were moving large big packages and boxes, with trucks loaded with them moving toward either the nearby port or the southern road.

The man known as Szymond, one of the pilots who had transferred the Vestor troops from Lusby & Corwyn to Caladria, was there, waiting them and giving some instructions to one of the drivers.

"You have come at a busy hour", he said as they got off the car and approached him.

"How is everything going?", Bogdan asked Szymond.

"As planned", Szymond said. "All preparations should be ready in hours. We have been secretly supplying with weapons for weeks, secretly, and probably the Lanlanians don't know this. This may give you a surprising even if short-lived advantage, as the coalition may not be aware of the kind of military technology they are facing".

"Those large boxes include Grom-2", Szymond continued. "Maybe you didn't hear about it, and it is not the most advanced and updated technology in the world. But many of my clients were quite happy about its perfomance during the last decade. It was produced in Abdania, based in a Gehenna's design, and this artillery rocket has a range of around 200 km. It is not very precise, that's true, but it may cause some problems to the enemy navy if it is launched from not too far. We have quite hundreds of them. Grom-3 is more precise, with a slightly larger range, but unfortunately we had barely a few of them. They sold well, and these will be likely some of the last which would be in action. It is a smaller variant, easier and quicklier to launch, so we may try to use one of those in one of the smaller patrol vessels, hidden, in order to be shot when the enemy navy is close enough. We are training a few of those foreign Brigadiers in order to see they are able to do it".

"It sounds crazy, but who knows", Florion said, not exactly convinced.

"I was told your cousin was able to take, along a small bunch of soldiers, one entire military barrack in Maurnnia, which was allegedly guarded with more than 1,200 soldiers and protected with large and well-armed guards", Szymond told Stryjkowsky. "Of course, that was from a river crossing the jungle, not in the open ocean".

"At least it sounds something that Wladislaw would do it", Stryjkowsky replied.

"Where is he now?", Bogdan asked.

"Who knows", Stryjkowsky answered. "Nobody heard from him in quite a few years".

"And those small boxes...what are they?", Florion asked, curious about some boxes on the floor.

"These are Drahen-produced amphetamines, a not very well-known but popular variant in some places", Szymond replied with a smile. "It helps with unexperience fighters under long stress, as many of your men are probably".

A woman, with clear Southern Brigidnan features, approached them.

"Now, if you wish, you can go back to the central district. Lucian will take you there". The Calandrian officer left. Leaving the three men, who hadn't meet for more than a decade, alone.

Five minutes later, they were having a drink on the roof of one the industrial warehouses, while the woman was busy with her mobile phone. Down, workers and uniformed men kept loading the trucks.

"And what now", Bogdan asked.

"While you can stay if you wish", Szymond, "our work here has ended. It would be great to have a sovereign states in the Mandavines as client, of course, but that seems unlikely now. We have nothing to do here".

"What's your plan?", Stryjkowsky asked. "Will you leave tomorrow?".

"We considered leaving the place in a fishing boat", Szymond said. "It should pass unnoticed, we were able to leave in different circumstances like that, but it may be a bit risky with such naval mobilization and deployment. So waiting before everything is calm is a better option. Going to one of the smaller islands would be safer, of course. But it would be too easy be found there".

"I just talked with my sister Nicoletta", the woman said. "The offices in Jumbie are already completely clean. There is nothing they could find there, if they would ever try. A month ago, she acquired a small manor house nearby one of Histria suburbs, just in case. Some of you could stay here, before you could leave the place, once everything is calm. The house was acquired under her husband's name, so it is not likely to arouse suspicion".

"Let's hope it works this time", Stryjkowsky said. "I have to leave, there is some business I have to finish before the day arrives".

He and Bogdan left. Szymond finished his drink, while Francesca, the woman, just shrugged.

---

Polonda island, Caladria | Fein 28, 1582

Mordechai Canaan had remained the last week in his mansion in Polonda, the largest building in the island. Canaan was the richest man in the Caladrian archipelago, the owner of -between many business and companies- the energy company which supplied Caladria with 80% of its energy, and a hotel chain which extended along all Mandavines. Although he bought and built this mansion as a leisure residence, which he rarely visited, he was visible irritated and concerned about something. The day before, coalition forces had landed in the small islands, and easily defeated the remaining 50 soldiers and policemen who protected the island and were loyal to Paunescu's government.

Lanlanian soldiers had arrived early in the morning to Canaan's residency, and registered the area around. That they left without asking many questions calmed Canaan, relatively, as it may mean that they weren't suspecting on him.

Suddenly, his wife's annoying poodle started to bark. "What do you want?", Canaan said, irritated. A few seconds later, the wall started to vibrate, and furniture, paintings, and objects started to fall. Mirrors broke and a tree was close to hit the gardener house. His wife and Constantin, Canaan's assistant came quickly.

"What's going on!", Canaan's wife shouted.

"Down the door", the assitant said. "It is an eartquake!".

"And Ion?", the woman asked, but the couple's son entered abruptly to the mansion.

"The sky turned black! The sky turned black!", Ion shouted. Before they could say anymore more, a second and longer earthquake came.

Once it ended and they could stand up again, they could realize that the inner fire had shaking the island once again. "We have to leave!", the wife screamed.

"The road to the port is closed", the assistant said, "and the port is likely under control of the international forces...I doubt they would allow us entering there".

"Can you drive the helicopter?", Canaan asked.

"Sure I can", the assistant said. "I will prepare it, go to the hangar as soon as possible. And don't lose time! We haven't much time".

A few minutes later, the helicopter was already leaving the island. They could see a huge dark smoke, with occassional lava rocks jumping from the volcano.

"It is impossible to approach to Bradea!", the assistant, who had been a pilot in the Caladrian armed forces for 14 years, said. "The smoke is too intense and the ashes would damage the helicopter. We need to reach Argune".

"Are you crazy?", Canaan replied. "Look all that navy moving".

"It is the safest option right now", the assistant replied.

"We are a civilian helicopter evacuating the island, moving to the south...", the pilot said through the radio.

---

Five minutes later, in a nearby town

Things were chaotic in Polonda's main town. The usually calm island had been surprised by many events in the last week. The new authorities were unprepared but the first volcano eruption, and several villages were forced been evacuated, which obliged to create improvised camps in the surroundings of the town. Along the 25,000 inhabitants of the town, there were about another 3,600 inhabitants from nearby villages. The invasion a day before hadn't involved much a fight or destruction, but it was unclear what the international coalition was planning to do and who will be in charge of the basic logistics and organization of the needs of the inhabitants of the island, isolated for already a week.

Some inhabitants had taken the decision to organize themselves or helping others. That was the case of a small group of members of the Pious International Mission, who had bought a small terrain and opened an office in the town only a few months ago. In the last days, they were involved mostly helping those evacuated inhabitants, providing them with food and entertainment.

Symphorienne, a young volunteer of the Pious International Mission, as many of the inhabitants and residents of the island, soon realized something wrong was about to happen. The earth had been shaking for almost ten minutes, and it looked that the island volcano was going to break in two. Instead, an apparently endless river of lava descended from the hill, strongly and with fury.

Panic followed, and people started to going down through the main avenue, which led to the small port of the town, where a group of small group of Lanlanian soldiers could see a desperate crowd was approaching, with no logic that the wish of survival. On the left, Symphorienne could see how the old nearby church was drawn by the reddish lava, which just shallowed two Lanlanian military jeeps. Hopeless screams were heard, while the nearby villages could be seen burning on fire or sunk by more lava flowing from the hill.

"Quickly!", one of the members of the Pious International Mission said. "To the van! It is the only way out! Carry out as many people as we can!".

Symphorienne wasn't able to react, but a Muliner brother helped her to react, approaching to the van.

"We can't go anywhere from here", one of them said pointing at the crowd descending toward the port. "Turn to the left, there is a road which leads to the other beach, through the riff".

The van moved as quickly as possible, which wasn't much as it was an old vehicle, the road was in a poor state -if it could be called a road-, and the van moved slowly. The left the van, and moved through the cliff.

"Down there is a cave, which leads directly to the beach", a Calandrian boy said.

"What if the lava is filtering from the undergroud or surface?", a member of the Pious Mission asked.

"It is already too late", another man said. "There is no alternative now". They looked back and they could see as the lava has already descending through the streets of the main town, with people desperately trying to climb through the walls and roofs of the building.

They moved through the cave, which was almost completely dark. After five minutes walking and, in some cases, crawling, they reached the end of the cave. They could see then another riff above then, with a narrow pathway along the mountain as the only way to the other side of the hill.

"Move slowly...but don't be afraid, we are almost there!", one of them said.

They started to move through the pathway. A man, who was carrying a young boy on his shoulders lost the balance and they fell down to the rocks.

"No!", Symphorienne screamed, covering her face with her hands.

"It's too late for them, sister", another member of the Pious Mission told her. "Let's move". Slowly, the rest of people crossed the pathway. As promised, the hill descended into a small beach.

"Help! Help! We are here!", some of them shouted to the helicopters flying over the island, and to the ships nearby.

"These boats look in perfect state. Maybe we can use them. They likely belong to local fishers", one of them said.

"Yes, if we can reach at least one of the nearby islands, we may be safe", another one replied. "If we keep as less adults per boat as possible, there may be room for everyone of us".

Symphorienne looked back, and she saw as most of the town seemed disappeared under the lava, with no sight of the nearby fields where she had worked for the last three week.

[STRATCOM]

Residence of the MT1
Port Rapier, Vestor Licit People's Mandate

"That's quite a tale," MT1 Humblos said, breaking the silence and waving away the thickening smoke of fine Vestian leaf.

"It's all true," said the man sitting across from him, twirling his cigarette thoughtfully. "Even the redacted parts."

"Especially the redacted parts, as the saying goes," Humblos replied. "I don't need to tell you that it was easily the stunt of the year. Our diplomatic teams were working triple shifts with all the attention. Did you know there's a Lanlanian politician who demands that we deservice every diplomatic facilitator he interacts with? Foreigners know nothing about how we work, foreign journos even less so."

"The attention was secondary," said the man. "I take my duty very seriously."

"Indeed you do," said Humblos. "No brigadier commander has ever redeemed as many thirteens as you, not even close - and you still won't let us promote you to MT4."

"Fours and up are pencil pushers," the man smiled. "I know I am exactly where the state needs me."

"Then what does that make me?" Humblos chuckled, tapping his brass MT1 insignia.

"A pencil factory," the man chuckled back. "But we'd never turn you down on a ground campaign. I've seen you fight."

"Sounds enticing, if it wouldn't give the rest of your people heart attacks," said Humblos thoughtfully. "Just like the good old days."

"Bad old days, you mean," said the man. "We nearly got ourselves stapled for the crap we used to pull back in the day. I'm shocked we ever got back to twelves, much less me running the brigadiers and you running the whole damn bloc!"

"That's exactly why I won't pull the plug on the penal brigades," said Humblos, pointing his burning cigarette at the man. "All the twos and threes clamor for it. They think it makes us look bad on the international stage. Soft cowards, all of them. They grew up with a safe, prosperous Mandate and never had to fight their way up. Even the best lifelong training we can offer our citizens is no substitute for real hardship. I need thirteens to come out of the fire redeemed and ready to be our backbone."

"And on that count, I have failed you," said the man plainly.

Humblos sighed, extinguished his depleted cigarette, lit a new one, and took a long drag.

"For days, your men held up aircraft carriers and battleships and air wings and marine brigades of the most well-funded maritime power on earth. They controlled a nation while the superpowers wasted millions idling their engines. And when they did come, the entire planet watched for days as six hundred dirty, blighted criminals with semi-automatic rifles and hearts of Vestian steel faced a modern tide of war with dignity to the last. If you do not count that as success, then your definition of it is queer indeed."

"There was no way to fight through with survivors," said the man regretfully. "They knew there was no retreat or surrender. I was very much tempted to stay with them, such was their uncommon stubbornness. In the end it was my adjutant who conceived of the deception that saved my life, and sealed it with his own."

"You think too small. While that happened, we all watched. Each Vestian man, woman, and child had the iron put back into their spines at the sight. They realized that for all of the lights and money and propaganda of the foreigners, they were no better than any Vestian, not even rising to the level of the Chiri. You did not bring back any men in body, no - but their spirit had exactly the result I had hoped for. And this is, of course, why you must resume your object lessons overseas."

Humblos handed the man an envelope. He opened it and read it by the firelight, mumbling and nodding. At last he took a deep breath and spoke. 

"It is too easy," he said at last.

Humblos laughed, a jolly noise from his diaphragm that betrayed his lack of surprise. He shook his head and smiled.

"I know you too well, Bogand," he said. "The other support will not come into play until later, all bought and paid for by your handlers."

"May I see my granddaughter before I leave?" Bogand asked, changing the subject abruptly. "She has just come back from Rapier and will be very pleased to know that I live."

"Of course. I would keep an eye on Nadia, old friend. From what I hear she shares the Bogand family eye for strategy. Her unit performed curioisly well at Rapier with her as dispatcher. It may not be long before she commands an arsenal plane or more."

"Don't say that," Bogand said, grimacing. 

"I know, I know, you want your granddaughter to stay a child forever. How do you think I feel? One second I preside over a class of young people receiving their first tiering, next I hear their children are doing the same. It's joyless business, getting old."

"So don't," Bogand said with a smirk.

"You first," Humblos replied with a laugh. "You've got more opportunity for it anyways. Dismissed."

---

MISSION COMPLETE
OUTCOME: [REDACTED]
MT5 BOGAND RECALLED TO PORT RAPIER