Chasing the Dreams of Old

[Val]

(OOC, this is gonna be a single person roleplay. I just want to roleplay by myself and flesh out Molovia without having to worry about other players. I plan on playing this nation from henceforth, getting tired of playing as the Northern Gondwana Union so it’s being put on the backburner. If you are curious about Molovia, there is a NSwiki article in my signature for you to read. It’s still in progress. Hope you enjoy!)

Batajnivo Air Base, Socialist Soviet Republic of Molovia

Dragomir “Drago” Vishnyovsky sat in his chair outside of the hanger in Northern Molovia. Condensation appeared from his Lupine mouth as he looked up into the sky. Up in the blue sky Fulcums (MiG-29) and Ribas (MiG-21bis) flew against each other in mock battle, contrails stretching across the cold expanse.

Dragomir was an ace hailing from Laiatan. At 57 years old, it was peculiar that such an individual would be in the Socialist Soviet Republic of Molovia. Although the reasoning was because of reputation in his homeland as an Ace. 32 and a half confirmed kills between the Vulshainian Civil War, Invasion of Rygard, Invasion of Diveria, and finally the 2014 Kazakavo War. The lupine was well regarded across the globe, and Molovia offered something for the wandering wolf that other nations didn’t.

Drago looked down at his left knee covered by the jeans. His eyes closed in a painful memory, the ejection that ended his career. It was two years ago, during the Kazakavo War which Laiatan invaded Kazakavo. Vishnyovsky instinctively pulled the stick of the MiG-29 after receiving blaring noises in his helmet. He saw the missile trail following him, launched from a nearby SAM site, white as snow in the daylight. It closed the distance as Drago struggled to dodge it, launching flares and chaff. It was too late, when the engines received a hit that veered the fighter off course.

His training and experience kicked in, for once in his life he found himself reaching for the ejection handle. Dragomir pulled, and his entire life flashed before his eyes. The canopy blew off, and the seat’s rocket motors started. The height shrinking forces went into play, sending him out of the damaged jet. The canopy unfortunately was still in the path of the ejection seat. One corner made contact with Drago’s left knee, sending the Lupine into a yowling cry of pain as the joint shattered.

Suddenly Drago woke up, he saw himself back at Batajnivo Air Base. The wolf-like creature looked around and then up, the mock battle and distant roars still present in the skies. He started whispering to himself, “Easy old dog, Fate was just a cruel mistress that day.”

With that, Vishnyovsky grabbed his cane and started to rise from the seat. His leather jacket stretched to accommodate the movements. Sounds of clicking could be heard as the cane made contact against the aging, cracked concrete pavements. The Lupine looked around while walking, aging remnants of a bygone era parked everywhere. Ribas, Fulcums, Monters (Su-22 Fitter), and several Ugaljs (An-26s) had their scratched paintjobs and signs of fatigue. They wore their scars proudly, even more so than him he mused.

“Drago kako se? Obuka će veliki pretpostavljam?” asked a Molovian General.
(Drago how goes? How is the training going?)

Drago looked over to the General, a bit surprised he managed to pop out of nowhere. He nodded and blamed it on his poor hearing. The lupine responded, “Ide, trening je na rasporedu. Oni su odvedeni u tome bolje od očekivanog. Oni bi trebalo da bude sasvim sposoban u odnosu na svojim susedima.”
(Goes, the training is on schedule. They’ve taken to it better than anticipated. They should be quite capable compared to their neighbors.)

“I see your Sebrek is quite good Drago,” complimented Žarko Banjesević. The general wore a grey overcoat that stopped above his knee high leather boots.

The wolf nodded again and leaned his weight on the cane, “Thanks, I try to learn the languages. Your nation reminds me of home. But the winters aren’t as severe.”

“Oh but it does get muddier. Thinking of moving here?” asked Žarko.

The Lupine chuckled and looked down at the cracked concrete, “Maybe. I need someplace to finally rest my bones. In the meantime, when do you think the war will happen?”

Žarko shrugged, “Uskoro moj prijatelj, uskoro.”

[Val]

Sebrezic, Molovia

Dragomir walked through the streets of Sebrezic, his cane clacking against the sidewalks. The roads were sparsely populated with drivers, everyone worked. The sidewalks were cracked, a few potholes here and there were roughly patched. Concrete structures dominated the city. Apartment blocs rose up several stories into the air with blank faces on the side for propaganda.

The lupine rounded a corner, covered in a grey overcoat with tufts of grey fur sticking out. It was that moment he paused to look at one of the city’s reminders of a bygone era. On the side of the building were three painted soldiers holding their rifles, with a flag waving profusely in the background. Just underneath the painting were large, but faded red text that read “Da li ste radili svoj deo, potpisati sada!” (Have you done your part, sign now!)

Drago was distracted from the painting by the nearby state plant’s whistle. It was lunch time for the workers. He resumed his path, now lost in deep thought, “These people, they yearn for a return to their called glory days. They miss it, something that puts them apart from other nations. Nowadays everyone looks to the future, a bleak future full of uncertainty. It’s intangible, it’s something they have never witnessed or partaken in.”

Vishnyovsky continued on his path, this time nodding to a passing couple. The nod was reciprocated with a greeting from the male, “Dobar dan posetilac!” (Good day Visitor!)

As soon as the three crossed eachother, the couple began whispering behind Drago’s back. He was able to pick up the conversation before it went faint, “Možete li verovati, lupin! Oduvek sam želeo da vidim! Prelepa stvorenja.” (Can you believe that, lupine! I’ve always wanted to see one! Beautiful creatures.)

It made the old wolf smile upon hearing those words, a sign of appreciation from other nations were rare. In the region wolves were seen as symbols of strength and character, braving the wilderness to survive. It is also why Molovia has pursued positive relations with Laiatan in the past. Despite that, they have always picked up help from other nations such as the Serene Republic of Stratarin.

Soon the lupine found himself in front of the General Staff building, the capitol. The structure which leaders of this small nation made decisions. Just separating him and the vast building was an open expanse of cobblestone and brick. Each and every brick and cobblestone was perfectly laid, gaps were nonexistent. Before making the trek with the trusty cane, Drago looked at his watch that occupied his left wrist. He mutters, “Just five minutes until. Better hurry it up.”

[Val]

(OOC: If you are curious about the specifics of what my military equipment is, check my Molovia link. There should be another link in there that leads to my military. Enjoya!)

Sebrezic, Socialist Soviet Republic of Molovia

Drago found himself in the very office that the Premier of Molovia uses. He was sitting down on a comfortable leather chair, observing the decor. It seemed imposing how the red star was directly behind where the Premier would sit. On it was an embossed circle formed by a half cog and a semicircular sickle-blade. A hammer laid directly over the sickle’s handle with the hammer’s head at the logo’s center.

Soon the Premier walked into Vishnyovsky’s view, surprising the Lupine and he stumbled to get up from his seat in respect. Vladan Dragonjić outstretched a hand, motioning him to sit as he greeted the former ace, “Please, please, sit. No need for you to get up.”

Drago immediate began apologizing profusely, “I am apologetic Premi-”

Vladan interrupted with a smile, “Please don’t, it’s perfectly reasonable. It’s one of the reasons why I kept that there, people I meet with tend to gaze into the star and I like to joke about it. But here we are and I doubt we are going to discuss the decoration. You’ve been briefed by General Žarko Banjesević?”

The lupine tilted his head in an unsure manner, “I have, but let’s go over it once more. You want to absorb Vukia and invade Trnavania?”

Premier Dragonjić nodded, “That is the general plan. Vukia is currently undergoing ethnic purges, so they will appreciate an organized state that’s willing to open their arms. We roll in with a combined arms army once an agreement has been struck. The army will take a policing stand and wipe out any warlords and groups participating in the purges.”

“Agreement?”

“Basically they become a soviet under our flag. We absorb them, which should be easy considering that they’ve been disorganized the past two years or so. We get the combined arms force to maintain the peace until it’s a more stable region of Tepans, should not be hard as long as we can maintain air superiority.”

“And that’s why I’m here,” asked the lupine once more, “right?”

“One of two reasons, the other involves Trnavania. Namely invading them, since they have been providing arms and manpower to support the warlords in Durbia and Vukia at the same time. The General Staff and the Supreme Soviet want to be able to commit a two-front war at the same time.”

Drago sucked air through his teeth for a minute, “It’s possible, but I would never recommend it. The morale to do such a thing is there. I’ve been reading intelligence reports of Trnavania provided by General Banjesević. They have the clear air superiority advantage though. Su-27s, Su-24s, MiG-25s, and MiG-27s, you have only MiG-29s and 21s. Along with Su-17s and 25s.”

“Which is why we are placing a heavier emphasis on the ground units. They have only one combined arms army, and lacked the proper artillery to match against ours. As long as those armies managed to get in enough to render their airports in-op, we are golden. I’ll pull up our general plans.”

[spoiler]http://i.imgur.com/2zgpx1h.png
[/spoiler]

The premier resumed as he stretched the map out on his desk as the Lupine stood to get a better look, “As you can see, the two red arrows indicated our Combined Arms Army and Tank Army. They will proceed into Trnavania with rapid speed, the emphasis is on speed. We want to stay one step ahead of them. Each Army contains its own anti-air compliment to deal with incoming air support. It isn’t much but it will alleviate pressure as they do their job. If they come into contact with the enemy, they will hold their own. Our units are more than trained enough.”

“How so,” questioned the Lupine as he fidgeted his cane.

“Before the Dissolution of the Socialist Federal Republic of Skrebićia, this region known as Molovia was a major source of ground power. We are host to four different military academies, along with many of the army generals and officers that decided to live where they spent the majority of their lives in. It was also home to the majority of the small arms and armored vehicle production, save for tanks. We have the trump card in ground warfare.”

Dragomir asked, “there are other nations that used to be part of Skrebićia, no?”

"Yes, Trnavania, Durbia, Bohwacja, Radaslava, and Sukyatia. Anyways, back to the topic,"Vladan pointed to the three x-marks across Trnavania, “These are their major airbases. If we manage to cripple two of them, we have this in the bag and can send our Air Aviation up to combat their quality with our quantity without massive casualties. They have the air superiority right off the bat, we need that to be crippled.”

“What about your airborne troops? I can assume you aren’t gonna let them sit on the sidelines,” inquired Drago.

The premier pointed to the red stretched x-mark, “This is where the third combined arms army will go. They will proceed into the capitol of Vukia, Sunsko. From there they will establish a base and spread out to contain the ethnic purges and eradicate any warlords. The airborne troops will be deployed from our few An-12 Cubs, fly from the southern-most airbase in Molovia, and parachute to the border that Vukia shares with Durbia. We want to cut off the flow of manpower and equipment that flows from Durbia into Vukia. They will be supplanted by our An-12 Electronic Warfare platforms to search for any signals of warlords requesting and getting help. This will be crucial to obtaining evidence to be used against them in searching and in court. The fewer of those bastards we have on the loose, the better. We are also riding on the chance that they will reveal their suppliers.”

“I notice you have them as far away from the Trnavania border as possible, smart. When will you get the green light for the invasion?”

“When the President of Vukia gives the go-ahead after their congress approves of it. We already have evidence of Trnavania supplying arms and advisors to the regional warlords that commit atrocities. That is to share with nations that raise concerns or opposition to our invasion.”

“However,” the premier said with a tone of concern, “there are those reports that some members in their congress are warlord and Trnavania sympathizers. I hope those reports are false…”

[Kashinko]

(OOC: I have permission to post here.)

Venza AFB, Outskirts of Shinsu, Setzna

Five pilots wearing winter dress uniforms boarded a Airbus A330 MRTT with civilian markings copied from Setzna International Airlines. Before the take off, the SNIA did all the necessary work to register the plane with Setzna International and pay the tax for the plane to fly over South Hills. The small squad of pilots consisted of a Flight Officer, two Second Lieutenants, one Captain, and a Major. The A330 taxied to the runway and took off after pre-flight checks. Flight Officer Jovik Lema looked down at his data pad mid-flight to look at the briefing again. Advisor duty huh?.. We’re being sent to a country which doesn’t even have a proper air force AND is stuck in the world of 60s-80s tech too… He sighed and looked out the window at the white clouds surrounding the aircraft like a soft blanket.

“Wishing you were back in the cockpit of an F15 Jovik?” He looked over at one of the two Second Lieutenants, Kolin Schultz.

“I guess, better then being stuck on the ground teaching people. I joined the SASDF to fly and spread my wings, not be cooped up on the ground like a chicken in a pen”

Hearing this, Kolin punched Jovik lightly in the shoulder and leaned in closer, “You need to experience different life styles at some point, I’ve already been a foreign advisor to a few countries already so i’m used to it”

“I mean, we can’t really deny them help. They asked for advisors and soldiers to take care of warlords in Vukia, so the SASDF sent their best pilots and thats us”

Jovik sighed again and just kept staring out the window for the rest of the flight to Molovia. Around the five officers, 255 men and women from the 3rd Alpenjager Division were chatting like regular people. They all wore civilian clothing, each of them dressing warmly for the cold Molovian winter. In the stowage section above them though, winter DEFPAT uniforms, coats, and dress formals sat neatly folded in each suitcase accompanied by the new XM35 Assault Rifle Hybrid which was stored in a duffel bag filled with magazines and small ammunition boxes. The 225 troops were on their way to assist Molovian ground troops in Vukia, most of them have already tasted battle first hand as they were some of the first to deploy early in the start of the 2nd Civil War. If there was any division more suited for combat, it would be the 5th Alpenjager Division which at the moment was occupied with guard duties on the Tripartite-SEPC firing line.

Barazat Airbase, Molovia

After a few hours of flight, the A330 got cleared for landing and halted to a stop next to a bunch of Molovian paratroopers. The five pilots would exit, 2nd Lieutenant Kolin walked over to one of the paratroopers to ask where the command building was. Behind them, the 255 Alpenjagers dubbed the “1st Molovian Advisory Unit” unloaded from the plane carrying their suitcases and duffel bags. Soon enough, officers started to organize their men into neat and tidy formations on the tarmac. Kolin, after thanking the paratrooper, guided the rest of the Setznan Advisory team towards the command building to report in and assume their duties officially. Flag Officers from the 1st MAU would also join the pilots to consult with their Molovian counterparts. To solve the problem of logistics, civilian aircraft operated by Setzna International Airlines and Jetred would pose as regular civilian flights. They would leave at different times to make it seem like the plane was just an ordinary flight from Setzna-Molovia and would the prospect of there being military supplies and weapons aboard the jets would be preposterous, this was because SIA and Jetred fly international and Molovia was one of the places they had a route to. After reaching Molovia, the jets would unload their payload and then let regular passengers board for the flight back. With this strategy, it allowed Setzna to get necessities in without suspicion from the international community.[edit_reason]Lots of it didn’t work out, I had to rewrite a lot of it.[/edit_reason]

[Val]

Barazat Airbase, Molovia

Milić Radivojev stood guard with another paratrooper that stood guard on the airbase. They were busy watching the Setzian Alpenjagers unload and get settled in for their operation. He leaned over, “Žene u vojničkim dužnostima? Šta je sa njima? Oni pripadaju kod kuće ili u fabrikama, a ne na bojnom polju.”
(Women in soldier duties? What is with them? They belong at home or in the factories, not on the battlefield.)

Aleksandar Paramentić shrugged and responded, “Pa dobro, pomoć je pomoć. Mi bi idiote da ga odbijem. Osim toga, siguran sam da će učiniti dovoljno dobro. Oni su verovatno uzimajući raspoređen na Vukia, ne Trnavania.”
(Oh well, help is help. We’d be idiots to turn it down. Besides, I’m sure they will do fine enough. They are probably getting deployed to Vukia, not Trnavania.)

Milić started speaking in a humorous girly tone, “Aleksandar, molim te pomozi mi. Ne mogu da nađem karmin i visoke potpetice. Gde je moj muž?”
(Aleksandar, please help me. I can’t find my lipstick and high heels. Where is my husband?)

With that, the two of them erupted into laughter that lasted a minute. Finally it subsided and they resumed their stoic duties of providing overwatch. Most of the other paratroopers went to help the Setznians unload their planes and get them settled in. Despite the obvious differences in society, they were both on the same side.

[hr]

Colonel Vidak Lambić stood at the front door of the command building, waiting for one of the commanding officers of the Setznian expeditionary forces. The middle-aged man wore a BDU like the rest of his subordinates, but wore a blue beret atop a perfectly buzzed head. This was his airborne division, the only one in Molovia and he took pride in it.

Vidak was a career soldier, having survived the civil wars that plagued the lands as part of Skrebićia Airborne. It was there that he met the man that granted him this position, at the time Colonel Vladan Dragonjić led the former Sergeant to his present position. They were close, having watched each other’s backs during the tumultuous times when Skrebićia dissolved.

Soon the Setznian commanding officers arrived. Vidak held out a hand in greetings as he began speaking Codexian, “Welcome to Molovia comrades. The plane ride was pleasant, no?”

[Kashinko]

Barazat Airbase, Molovia

Kolin shook the colonel’s hand, “It was very smooth. I assume that you know who we are already, but i’ll reintroduce you. I’m 2nd Lieutenant Kolin Schultz, and the man next to me is Jovik Lema. The well endowed major behind him is Katerina Lema, our commanding officer, and next to her is 2nd Lieutenant William Kroll and Captain Louise Hanazawa.”

“It’s a pleasure working with the Molovian military and you, colonel.”

While everyone else was greeting the command staff and shaking hands, Jovik went to the window and watched as the 1 MAU marched off to the barracks where they’d be staying. He adjusted his peaked cap and saluted the brigade sharply as they passed by the command building. The Alpenjagers sang the famous march of the Alpenkorps, ‘Es war ein Edelweiß’ as they marched quickly by. He then sighed and took a seat near the window, crossing his legs and arms.

[Val]

Barazat Air Base

Vidak motioned the officers inside, out of the cold and dreary weather. He replied, “Likewise Lieutenant, lets go inside and discus our plans shall we?”

[hr]

Vida Sotirović sat in the commander’s seat of her M-84AS as it reached speeds of thirty miles per hour. It cruised above the grassy knolls of northern Molovia. Nearby were several targets opposite of the valley they were in.

She barked, “Vozač, Stop! Gunner Smer; Jedan, pet, četiri! Ciljanog raspona; Jedan, jedan, pet, četiri metra!”
(Driver, Stop! Gunner Direction; One, Five, Four! Target Range; One, One, Five, Four meters!)

The other two members of the tank crew yelled confirmation. The turret swiveled to the heading, then the gun began moving up slightly to compensate for the ballistic drop. The gunner yelled, “Zaključana!”
(Locked!)

“Pali!”
(Fire!)

With that, the 125mm smoothbore gun erupted. A training sabot flew out the muzzle at 1,700 meters per second. In less than a second, the round flew true and struck the plywood target with the outline of a tank. The gunner shouted, “Istina!”
(True!)

Vida barked as she looked through the cupola, “Nova meta! Pravac; Dva, jedan, jedan! Ciljanog raspona; Devet, devet, tri metra!”
(New target! Direction; Two, One, One! Target Range; Nine, Nine, Three meters!)

The turret swiveled once more, and the tank fired it’s cannon once again. The sabot flew and hit the new target. This was the tenth hit in a row, and they all hit their marks. This was to be their last training session before being sent to the front lines in the inevitable war with Trnavania.

[Strat]

(OOC: Posted with permission.)

Podpolkovnik Nikita Akulov’s ear twitched in annoyance. He didn’t like one bit of this.

‘This’, of course, referred to sneaking a battalion of the Strataric 62nd Airborne Division over borders in a Setznan ‘civilian’ A300. Of course, it was the only way to get any sort of military into Molovia. But it was too sneaky. Too sly. It reminded Nikita of politics, which he absolutely detested. And these civilian clothes itched his reddish-brown fur.

And to top it off, one of his men was incredibly inquisitive as to the nature of Nikita’s kind. Did vulpines shed? Is a group of vulpines called a skulk, like a group of foxes? Can there be human-vulpine hybrids? What about lupine-vulpine hybrids? The nature and quantity of the questions asked were nigh insufferable.

The only good thing about this flight was that it was almost over.

Barazat Airbase, Molovia

The snow lazily drifted downward, giving the air a feeling of serenity. Georgi Stasevich, a Strataric military observer stationed at the airbase, sighed peacefully as his fur coat billowed slightly in the soft wintry breeze. Lost in the calm of it all, he barely felt his device buzz in his pocket. Pulling it out, he noted that he had one new message and opened it.

[spoiler] Battalion of 62nd Airborne to arrive shortly in a Setznan A300. 300 men strong.[/spoiler]

Stasevich returned his device to his pocket. It would be good to see some of the homeland’s troops again. The Molovian military men were good, impressive, even, but Stratarians… well, Stratarians were a reminder of home.

I’d better inform the base commander, he mentally commented. Taking in the tranquil snowfall one last time, he turned and walked back towards the base.

[Kashinko]

Kolin nodded his head, “Aye we shall colonel. What is that you request of us first?”

Katerina went over and sat down in the chair beside Jovik and let out a sigh. She then proceeded to take off his cap quickly and ruffle his hair to which he was annoyed.

“Can you stop that?” He pushed away her arm and put his peaked cap back on, “Ma’am…”

“Sorry, haven’t done it in a while. Let’s go, i’m not gonna repeat the planning to you later” reluctantly, Jovik stood up and followed after his elder stepsister to a table where Kolin and the rest were already seated.

[Val]

(OOC: After this post, let’s timeskip ahead a few days to a week.)

Barazat Air Base, Molovia

Vidak looked over Kolin and replied, “Ah, just to sit inside and talk about the plans over a bottle of Rakia. I believe your people call it, ‘fruit brandy’. Come, come, the map won’t speak by itself.”

Inside the colonel went, a safe haven from the cold outside. Inside the building, the whiteness of the outside contrasted with the comforting tan interior.

[hr]

Sebrezic, Molovia

The premier sat in front of the imposing red star. It was comfortable in his chair, a few thumbs twiddling as he waited. The production factories were ready, the vast stores of AK-47s and ammo were prepped for deployment should the war not go in favor. The risk was high, but nothing stands in the way of reviving their past. All front-line units were prepped and ready, all that was needed left is the approval of the Vukian government, and the rest of the incoming foreign support.

[Strat]

(OOC: this happens before the timeskip. I have Val’s permission for this.)

Receiving the clearance for landing, the Setznan A300 carrying the 62nd Airborne began gracefully touching down. After it came to a halt, Nikita was the first to disembark.

The first thing he noticed was the crisp air. Having lived much of his life in the Strataric mountain ranges, he found the cold incredibly refreshing.

The second was a figure, clad in a fur coat, quickly walking towards the plane.

“Privetstvuyu!” [Greetings!] the figure called in Strataric. “Vy dolzhny byt Podpolkovnik Akulov!” [You must be Podpolkovnik Akulov!]

“V samom dele ya.” [In fact, I am.] While his men unloaded from the plane behind him, Nikita approached the stranger. “Ty voyennyy nablyudatel?” [You’re a military observer?]

The observer snapped a salute. “Leytenant Georgi Stasevich, k vashim uslugam, ser.” [Leytenant Georgi Stasevich, at your service, sir.]

Nikita nodded. “Walk with me.” [Khodit so mnoy.] They began slowly walking towards the airbase. “Kak spetsialistu yavlyayutsya Moloviaskiy soldaty?” [How skilled are the Molovian soldiers?]

“Spetsialistu? Oni ochen khoroshi. Pochti Stratarii.” [Skilled? They’re very good. Practically Strataric.]

The vulpine raised his eyebrow at this praise. “Ya slyshu ikh tekhnologiya neskolko ustareli, khotya.” [I hear their tech is somewhat dated, though.]

“Nu, eto pravda.” [Well, that’s true.] Georgi glanced at his superior. “Tem ne meneye, eto ne tak uzh plokho. Vsego neskol’ko desyatiletiy ili tak dlya ostal’noy chasti Urtkh.” [However, it’s not so bad. Just a few decades or so behind the rest of Urth.]

“Mne skazali chto Moloviaskiy i Stratarii yazykov, v to vremya kak ne identichny, pokhozhi. Mozhesh podtverdit?” [I was told that the Molovian and Strataric language, while not near identical, are similar. Can you confirm this?]

“Oni udivitelno poetomu, uchityvaya gde my nakhodimsya v mire. Yest nekotoryye razlichiya otmechennyye, no yazykovoy baryer ne dolzhen byt slishkom bolshoy problemoy.” [They are surprisingly so, given which parts of the world we’re in. There are some noted differences, but the language barrier shouldn’t be too much of a problem.] Georgi paused. “Yeshche ya vzyal nekotoroye Moloviaskiy, yesli vam nuzhen perevod.” [I’ve also picked up some Molovian, should you need translation.]

Nikita nodded once. “Khorosho. Moy rasprostranennyy nemnogo rzhavyy.” [Good. My Common’s a bit rusty.]"

Glancing behind him, he looked at his men departing the plane. “Leytenant, ya schitayu chto ya sobirayus zdes nravitsya.” [Leytenant, I do believe I am going to like it here.]

[Southern_Yugoslavia]

(OOC: I too have Val’s permission to post.)

Vasili Yurolovich Air Force Base, Kortov Province, Laiatanese Federation

After what had seemed like an eternity, the blizzard conditions blanketing the western half of the province seemed to give up for a brief moment, allowing the single Ilyushin Il-96 - Wikipedia to finally lift off from the salt-covered runway. For all intents and purposes it seemed like any other civilian flight on the outside, though it left the runway from a military installation. The interior was filled almost to the brim of experienced combat veterans, all dressed in warm civilian clothing. Their gear was tucked away inside the cargo hold and overhead bins, rifles and other infantry weapons hidden in crates within the cargo space.

Most on the plane were asleep after the several hour wait on the tarmac into the late hours of the evening, while the minority talked quietly among themselves, or played card games. The officers of this particular battalion sat in the front of the plane, while the commander and his immediate subordinates sat in the very first row. Forty-three year old Lieutenant Colonel Leonid Korchagin, thirty-one year old Captain Marta Vitsin, and thirty year old Georgy Maslak were awake, looking over dossiers and plans for what would happen when their plane landed at Barazat.

“Kogda my dvigayemsya v Vukia?” [When do we move into Vukia?] Vitsin asked, flipping through the dossier once more.

“Kak tol’ko Vukia pozvolyayet, ot togo, chto ya slyshal. My poluchim bol’she informatsii ot Molovians, kogda my prizemlimsya.” [As soon as Vukia allows it, from what I’ve heard. We’ll get more information from the Molovians when we land.] The lieutenant colonel responded, closing his copy of the dossier on the Molovian military. “My, veroyatno, bol’she vremeni provodit’ v Trnavania. Vukia budet v konechnom itoge okhranyat’sya. My voinskaya chast’, oni khotyat, chtoby my na linii fronta. Ili pozadi nikh, predpochtitel’no.” [We’ll probably spend more time in Trnavania. Vukia will end up being policed. We’re a military unit, they’ll want us on the front lines. Or behind them, preferably.] Korchagin turned off his overhead light.

“Pospi. My zemlyu v techeniye neskol’kikh chasov.” [Get some sleep. We’ll land in a few hours.] Vitsin nodded as her superior reclined his chair, placing an eye mask onto his face to block out any other light. Not ready to sleep just yet, she turned her head to look at her fellow captain - discovering he was already passed out as well. With a sigh, she flipped through the dossiers a few more times before nodding off to sleep as well.

[hr]

Barazat Air Base, Molovia

After obtaining clearance to land, the Ts-99R smoothly dropped down onto the runway and taxied into the area denoted by the tower. Everyone on board was awake and stirring when the steps came to the door. One by one the passengers exited their plane. The three officers were off first, bags in hand. “Ya dumal, chto my ostavili Laiatan.” [I thought we left Laiatan.] Maslak commented, soft chuckles coming from his fellow officers, as well as from a few enlisted men that walked by to the staging area near the front of the plane.

Maslak exhaled unnecessarily to see his breath, quite obviously amused by how long it stayed visible. Vitsin shook her head. “Ya ne mogu poverit’, chto my tot zhe rang.” [I can’t believe we’re the same rank.] He shrugged in response. “Eto melochi zhizni.” [It’s the little things.]

“Otpravlyaytes’ s kem my dolzhny vstretit’sya, Kapitan Maslak. Kapitan Vitsin, organizovat’ voyska.” [Go find who we’re supposed to meet, Captain Maslak. Captain Vitsin, go organize the troops.] The lieutenant colonel commanded as he looked across the air field. The captains snapped themselves to attention and saluted before splitting off to go about their respective orders. Korchagin let out a soft sigh, slipping his gloved hands into his greatcoat’s pockets. He watched Maslak head off towards what appeared to be a command building before turning to watch his troops continue exiting the plane, getting into formation.

He was pleased to find the weather in Molovia very similar to the weather in Kortov Province. His troops were trained in this weather. They were practically raised in this weather. This is, of course, true of almost any soldier in the Laiatanese Defense Forces. He felt especially confident about his battalion of 300 from the Army’s Special Operations Group (Spetsial’naya operativnaya gruppa, SOG). It was his belief they would do extremely well here.[edit_reason]Clarified a sentence.[/edit_reason]

[Val]

Barazat Airbase, Southern Molovia

Colonel Vidak Lambić stood at the front of a tabletop, on it was a map of the region. Molovia, Vukia, and Trnavania were drawn expertly; borders, rivers, airbases, information where enemy positions were all present. He looked up and checked to see who was present and waited for any potential latecomers…

[hr]

Gvozdić’s Fist Tank Army, Near the Trnavania Border in Northern Molovia

Vida Sotirović sat inside of her tank, helping the crew clean the insides out. It was an arduous process, but it kept morale up with clean equipment in the Molovian National Army. She went over a mental checklist, “Top, čist i vida. Optika, očistiti i na meti. Motori, proverava i filteri čisti. Municija su snabdevene i spremne. To je u osnovi sada.”
(Cannon, clean and sighted. Optics, cleaned and on target. Engines, checked and filters cleaned. Munitions are stocked and ready. That’s basically it now.)

With that, she reached up to open the hatch on the M-84. It gave with a satisfying clunk and locked open in the forward position. Her other two crewmates were busy filling up the reserve fuel tanks mounted on the back. Externally they looked like two 55 gallon drums that connected to the engine, internally there was a thin lining of self-sealant should a hole exist.

All of the sudden the klaxon alarms went off, Vida looked around surprised until she heard the tell-tale sewing machine sounds of the Shilkas in the distance. Their four 23mm guns firing into the air at an unknown assailant.

The tank brigade’s colonel ran out of his command tent and started yelling to the tank crews as they scrambled over to the tank pool. He shouted, “Ulazi u vozilima! Odjebi u njima! Idi, idi, idi! Glava na sever!”
(Get in the vehicles! Get the fuck in them! Go, Go, Go! Head north!)

After hearing that, she dropped down the hatch and started the radio. She began listening to what was happening as her crewmates were shoving their tools into the storage compartments. She held the earphones and listened. Crackling and shouting was heard from one of the other divisions located up further north, “Ovo je Trinaesti divizija! Mi smo pod napadom! Heavi vazdušna podrška Unutrašnji sa severa! Nema kopnene jedinice iet! Traži naredbe!”
(This is Thirteenth Division! We are under attack! Heavy air support inbound from north! No ground units yet! Requesting orders!)

Another voice crackled, “Ovo je Gvozdic pesnice komanda, prvi tenk podela, Advance sever za Trnavania. Četvrto motorizovani podela, sledite prvi. Drugi tank podela, napreduje napred. Ima jedinice za podršku protiv vazduh aktivan.”
(This is Gvozdić’s Fist command, first tank division, advance north to Trnavania. Fourth motorized division, follow the first. Second tank division, advance forward. Have anti-air support units active.)

“Govno,” she muttered. Her crewmates have finally buttoned up in the tank and started the engine. The gunner tasked the auto-loader to chamber a round. The massive mechanism separating the commander and gunner went to work. Then the steel beast lurched into action.

[hr]

Sebrezic, Capitol of Molovia

The Premier was being rushed into the bunker underneath the General Staff building. A massive concrete structure that went down ten stories that was only used in times of war. His security were fully equipped soldiers of the Committee for State Concerns, or more infamously known as the KDZ (Komisija za državne Zabrinutost).

Vladan knew what was going on, something bad has happened, as his Minister of Defense was being rushed alongside him. He thought to himself, “Guess the rumors of Trnavania having agents inside the Vukian government was true. Preemptive strike quite possibly.”

[Kashinko]

Bazarat Airbase, 5th Armored Platoon, 2nd Alpenjager Armored Corps, Molovia

Master Sergeant Shogo Leopold closed the hatch on the M-84A that was on loan from the Molovian National Army until the next plane arriving with Setznan vehicles arrived. The driver stared at the translated manual provided to him by the Molovians for a while before he started up the tank. Beside the tank, another one roared to life and their headlights sprayed light across the snow in front of them.

“Advance!” Shogo shouted into his headset and the two tanks started driving off towards a hangar. After dropping off the tanks for the Molovians, the two tank crews walked back to their barracks and rested.

“Blasted, my hands still aren’t used to these things after two weeks of training” The driver sighed and lied on his bunk with his body facing the gunner and loader who were sitting on the ground with cards in their hands.

“Just wait for the Hitomarus to get dropped off in four days, somewhat smooth sailing after that” Shogo replied as he flipped the page in his book. “I bet they come in the stock model though, so we’re going to have to equip the Mountain kit and paint the 2-tone Winter on.”

[Val]

Barazat Air Base, Southern Molovia

Colonel Vidak marched out of the command building yelling into his handheld radio. It was connected to one of the buildings on the far side of the complex, containing the pilots who were tasked with flying the An-12 Cubs. He continued, “Ja ne briga, spremite se avioni za rad sada. Mi smo u ratu!”
(I don’t give a fuck, get the planes ready for operation now. We are at war!)

The 1st Airborne Brigade, nicknamed the “Dobrynya’s Vitezovi” (Dobrynya’s Knights), was mobilizing. The men were waking up and getting their custom gorka suits on. The pilots were rushing out of their barracks and getting the transports ready. The airborne vehicle crews were getting the engines warmed up and rigging ready. It would be two grueling hours of preparations until everyone was ready for the airborne assault.

The battalion lieutenant colonels and company majors were running at full speed to Vidak for their briefing. The Colonel began issuing orders, “Mi smo sada na sat. Trnavania samo izvršio preventivni udar na Gvozdić pesnice. To je uglavnom vazdušni napad, a zatim pokušao da se preselim kod kopnenih trupa. To nije uspelo i mi ih padati. Oni su sada guraju sjever albiet sa nekim otporom. Reč je upravo stigla da Vukia odobrila našu operaciju u svojoj zemlji. Želim da svaki čovek treba spreman za pad u najkraćem mogućem roku. Mi ćemo biti prvi slanje pešadijske komponente, zatim vozila i podršku opremu. Svi ste zapamtio planove, prvi pad će se desiti u vremenu dva sata. Dođi do toga!”
(We are on the clock now. Trnavania just committed a preemptive strike against Gvozdić’s Fist. It was mainly an air strike and then tried to move in with ground troops. That failed and we held them off. They are now pushing north albiet with some resistance. Word just came in that Vukia approved our operation into their country. I want every single man to be prepped for drop as soon as possible. We will be first sending the infantry components, then the vehicles and support equipment. You all memorized the plans, first drop will happen in two hours time. Get to it!)

With that, the men made a mad dash back to their respective units to oversee preparations. By now the pilots were busy manning their airdrop craft and making sure everything was ready. Checklists were gone through, but that was part of the easy stage. The hard stage was the return flight and cramming support equipment and vehicles into them in the shortest time capable. The rigging support crew were running towards the motor pool and making sure the trucks were ready.

A base major ran up to Vidak, “Hteo si me pukovnika?”
(You wanted me colonel?)

“Da, da tenkove iz hangara i poslati ih na sever. Ne zanima me kako to radiš, uradi to. Obavesti Setznians da je njihova Igra je završena i da se spremi. Čim je njihova oprema stigne, oni su na prvom letu za Vukia. Get the lupina da se sastane sa mnom, ja imam plan za njih.”
(Yes, get the tanks out of the hanger and send them up north. I don’t care how you do it, get it done. Inform the Setznians that their playtime is over and to get ready. As soon as their equipment arrive, they are on the first flight to Vukia. Get the lupines to meet with me, I got a plan for them.)

“A stratarians?”
(And the stratarians?)

“Se previše starjesinu.”
(Get their commanding officer too.)

[Val]

Several Miles North of Sunsko, Vukia

Milić Radivojev floated softly in the air, descending upon the mountainous terrain below his boots. Snow would soften the eventual landing. Milić looked around his surroundings, close to a hundred paratroopers were in the air with him. Several of their knockoff trucks were strapped with parachutes, including pallets that contained their supplies and backup equipment.

The sounds of gunfire eurpted from below, some rounds went up and flew past the Molovian. Several squads below him were busy engaging a combatant group, most likely part of the local warlords and ethnic cleansers that roamed the countrysides of Vukia. There were plenty of hiding spots and locations where camps would have been set up in the mountains of the Tepans.

A stray round came up and passed by the paratrooper’s face, the searing heat was felt. He became infuriated and grabbed his Ak-47. With violence, he racked the bolt back and chambered a round. Shouldering it, Milić let loose strings of automatic fire in the general direction of the enemy, “Jebem ti mater, jebi svog psa, jebi svoju ženu, pederu! Ja ću srati niz vrat!”

Soon the trees began blocking the direction of his fire, which ceased. His two boots crunched into the thick snow, and then landed backwards. The airborne soldier got up to bundle the chute, and tossed it aside. He marched forward towards the sounds of gunfire with the rifle at the ready.

[hr]

Sunsko, Vukia

The Ljubinka’s Heart Combined Arms Army had already marched into the capitol of Sunsko by now. They were busy sending divisions up north and west to assist the airborne assaults. Their HQ was set up at Sunsko’s old stadium, where ice hockey was originally hosted before the warlords began roaming the nation. The concrete floor of the rink was what stayed beneath all the ice where teams on skates would compete against each-other in brutal sports.

Several men at the rink were running between aisles of women working the radios and performing administrative tasks. They ran up to General Miroslav Strizović and began briefing him on the status of the combined arms army.

One of them spoke, “Generale, imamo jedini Tank Division ide na sever, poslali smo jedan motorizovani pešadijska divizija Jug, a još jednu zapadu. Konačna pešadijska divizija je poslat na sever sa tenkovima.”
(General, we have the sole tank division going north, we sent one motorized infantry division south, and another one west. The final infantry division was sent north with the tanks.)

“Šta je status Gvozdić pesnice? Dokle su gurnuli?” asked Miroslav.

“Oni guraju. Uspeli su da gurnu u Trnavania ali su se zaglibljujući. Putevi su uništeni i blokiran od strane povlačenju snaga. Njihova podrška vazduh je osakatio zahvaljujući anti-vazduh platformi. Mi zaista mogu poslati boraca i transporta sada sa leta boraca.”
(They are pushing. They managed to push into Trnavania but they are getting bogged down. The roads were destroyed and blocked by the retreating forces. Their air support has been crippled thanks to the anti-air platforms. We can actually send transports now with a flight of fighters.)

“Da li smo već komandovao vozove?”
(Have we commandeered the trains already?)

“Da, mi smo ih poslali da Molovia da se učita sa zalihama. To će značajno se teret sa naše vazdušne logistike. Oni će se vratiti u roku od 24 sata otprilike sa zalihama kako bi učvrstio naše držanje i održavanje pritiska.”
(Yes, we have sent them to Molovia to be loaded with supplies. That will take the burden off our air logistics significantly. They will be back in 24 hours approximately with supplies to solidify our hold and maintain pressure.)

The aging general nodded and waved them off. He was now pondering what the next course of action was, he hated waiting for results when he could just grab them instead. The green overcoat wearing man walked his way over to his second in command, “Kosta, izdaju nalozi za naših severnih napreduje divizije da bi guraju na sever Trnvania. Moramo da ublaži pritisak sa naše Tank vojske na istoku od nas. Da se ​​javim našoj lupin i Strataric prijateljima, oni će biti deo pritiskom severno od Vukia do Trnvania. U Setznians će održavati sekundarnu ulogu.”
(Kosta, issue orders for our northern advancing divisions to keep pushing north into Trnvania. We need to alleviate pressure off our Tank Army to east of us. Get word to our Lupine and Strataric friends, they will be part of the push north from Vukia to Trnvania. The Setznians will maintain a secondary role.)

[Kashinko]

Bazarat Airbase, Molovia

Over periods of time, four Setznan cargo planes landed at Bazarat Airbase, one of them unloading a platoon of the Setznan Type 10 Hitomarus. Two others unloaded a platoon of Type 74s each and the last unloaded five Humvees. Shogo grinned as he saw his tank unload last from the first cargo plane. The crews of the twelve tanks quickly went to work on painting the tanks in 2-tone Setznan Winter camouflage and equipping the mountain kits onto the tanks. The mountain warfare kit was just a TUSK kit optimized for the winter. The mountain warfare kit was also equipped with different view modes such as thermal (which was already apart of the standard TUSK) and a HUD which allows the gunner to acquire targets more easily in a snowstorm. The HUD is also equipped in the helmets of the driver, loader, radioman, and commander and assists each of them in their different roles which boosts their combat ability.

“Colonel, the Alpenjager are ready to mobilize. With some of your vehicles on loan to us of course” said a Setznan Lieutenant Colonel. The “1 MAU” lined up in a neat square formation outside with their gear and awaited the order for deployment.

[Southern_Yugoslavia]

Several miles inside Trnavania, near the Vukian border

Molovian National Army helicopters dropped the Laiatanese operators only a few miles from the Trnavanian-Vukian border. Tasked with causing chaos behind the Trnavanian lines, they were ready to do what they did best. The battalion of SOG troops had been split up into two companies, each led by their respective captains: Marta Vitsin and Georgy Maslak.

Forward of the main unit already across the border, several smaller teams of three dedicated to performing reconnaissance on the area quietly made their way through the mountainous woods. Wearing winter camouflage designed for the forested and mountain terrain of Laiatan, it worked quite well to break up their silhouettes. One of these groups of three were set up on a hillside overlooking a road that cut down the mountain and into the valley below. Given the proximity of the road to the border and the density of the forest around it, the forward group believed it would likely be used to move Trnavanian troops into defensive positions near the Vukian border. When that would happen, well. That was yet to be determined.

The three figures were on alert, knowing at any moment a Trnavanian patrol could stumble upon them, or a convoy could come rolling down the hill. Two were armed with Laiatan’s standard issue assault rifle while a third shouldered a sniper rifle, scanning the treeline near the road.

“Kak svyazat’sya s. Trista metrov. Bronya: vedushchiy, neskol’ko gruzovykh avtomobiley.” [Contact. Three hundred meters. Armor leading, multiple cargo vehicles.] The sniper counted quietly to herself. “Sem’ obshchey slozhnosti, v tom chisle BTRakh. Radio kapitan.” [Seven total, including the BTRs. Radio captain.]

Several miles down the road

Maslak’s company was on either side of the snow-covered road, taking advantage of the elevation to prep a proper ambush. This was the first target they had come across, and a convoy carrying either troops or supplies seemed a good enough target to hit. Equipped with rocket propelled grenades, the plan was to take out the armor in the front and rear of the convoy before spraying whatever came out of the trucks down with their rifles and machine guns.

All was silent except for the occasional bird call, which was eventually interrupted by the sounds of diesel engines making their way carefully through the snow. Explosions suddenly ripped through the almost serene atmosphere, multiple RPGs hitting each BTR to ensure their destruction. Automatic gunfire followed immediately after, the operators picking their targets as AK-47 armed Trnanavians leaped from their Ural trucks to take up defensive positions in the ditches. A heavy machine gun opened up on the Laiatanese forces, but was dispatched in the crossfire.

Almost as soon as the firefight started it came to an end, Captain Maslak shouting. “Peremiriye! Peremiriye!” [Ceasefire!] The words echoed across the hillside as a few more shots rang out, coming to an end soon after the command came. The troops closest to the road started making their way down the hill to investigate the trucks while the majority of the ambush remained in position to provide overwatch.

“Pokhozhe, konvoy snabzheniya. Boyepripasy, tovary meditsinskogo naznacheniya, ratsiony.” [Looks like a supply convoy. Ammo, medical supplies, rations.] The radio crackled, followed by several smaller explosions - grenades going off inside the BTRs dropped in by the operators. “Zakhvatite yashchiki, my obyazatel’no vzyat’ nekotoryye iz etikh veshchey. Unichtozhit’ gruzoviki, kogda vse yasno.” [Grab the crates, we’ll certainly take some of that stuff. Destroy the trucks when everyone’s clear.]

Maslak replied over the radio. His ears perked up when he heard explosions off in the distance, and he hoped that meant Vistin’s company was having as good luck like his.

[Val]

Gvozdić’s Fist Tank Army, Southeast Trnavania

Vida Sotirović stood lazily at the commander’s hatch, moving side to side to compensate for the steel beast’s movement over the icy gravel roads. Just ahead of her was part of the tank division, the rest behind. They followed the simple convoy since it was the fastest way of moving forces across the theater. The sun shone down upon the snow covered plains of that part of the country.

Vida wore her knockoff aviator sunglasses, they were cheap and made in the factories, but worked. The sunshine relected off the snow and were known to cause headaches and fatigue. To her west were distant reminders of the Tepans mountain range that sprawled across the region. Eastwards were forests and clearings of land that stretched as far as the eye could see.

In her tanker helmet the earphones crackled to life, “Drugo Tank Division, ovo je Fist komanda Gvozdic je. Imate dolazne vazdušne napade vozila, pet minuta. Pripremite se za borbu.” (Second Tank Division, this is Gvozdić’s Fist Command. You have inbound air attack vehicles, five minutes out. Prepare for combat.)

The female dropped into her tank, sealing the hatch above. She knew that they were getting desperate by now, halfway to Trnavania’s capitol of Vizovice. Their standing tank divisions laid in smoldering ruins miles behind her. Their only major military support came in the form of airstrikes and reserve motorized divisions that were currently spread out across the nation.

Soon the Shilkas and anti-air support vehicles began buzzing to life. The 23mm guns pointed due north as the second tank division began dispersing itself. Not wanting to present an easy target, they spread out over the plains. Several missiles launched from the Kubs, medium ground to air platforms. Then the guns erupted, filling the air with lead in the general direction.

Vida looked through the cupola’s optics, seeing tracers and smoke trails clouded her view of the skies. Soon a few explosions rocked the tank back and forth. The massive concussive waves of bombs and rockets destroyed a few tanks in the division near her. There was nothing she could do, helpless in the face of airstrikes as the anti-air support did their job.

Soon the buzzer inside of the tank went off, this was the worst nightmare of any serviceman or woman on the ground. Vida shouted, “Gasni! Seal vozilo! Get filteri radi!”
(Gas! Seal the vehicle! Get the filters running!)

The division commander could be heard over the radio, “Seal vozila, imamo hemikalije pao. Nastavi da se krećeš napred!”
(Seal the vehicles, we have chemicals dropped. Keep moving forward!)

The woman breathed shakily, hoping that the air filters worked as advertised. Soon the vehicles and crewmen exposed to it would have to stop, and decontaminate. A lengthy process that has put the movement to a grinding halt. This tactic of using chemical weapons in the form of nerve agents have done their job of stalling the advance, but not eliminating it.

In a few hours the Nuclear, Biological, Chemical weapons crew would come to the very same site. It was where they would set up camp and find the source of the contamination and salvage it for research if at all possible. The location would then be declared off limits to anyone until the site was declared “clean”.

The smell of the air was akin to faint fruit or even almonds, a innocent odor that revealed a more sinister nature.

[Kashinko]

Bazarat Airbase, Molovia

The Division of twelve tanks, 8 Type 74s and 4 Type 10s were all finished and equipped with the Mountain Warfare kit. The tanks roared to life and their headlights shone into the snow. Behind them, Humvees, trucks, and APCs loaded with troops from the 1st MAB started up. The whole brigade started to move, exiting the airbase and heading toward Vukia. Shogo closed the hatch of his Type 10 to prevent snow from getting in the tank.

Unknown location, Southern Vukia

“Target, 5 meters left!” Shogo shouted as the gunner turned the turret of the Type 10 towards the enemy tank. The Type 10 fired a HEAT shell which penetrated the T-64’s armor and hit one of the ammo racks, igniting the enemy tank into a ball of flame. Alpenjager troops unloaded from their vehicles and some dived into the snow while others crouched behind greenery for cover. The rest of the tank division opened fire on the enemy positions with HE shells. The 2-tone Setznan Winter blended in well with the current environment and the winter DEFPAT uniforms worn by the Alpenjagers made them hard to be spotted by the enemy, the only thing giving themselves away was their black Howa Type 89s.

“To the right! T-72 to the right!” Shogo shouted some orders and his command tank moved back a bit into the cover of shrubs and trees, the barrel of the Hitomaru peeking through. The loader loaded another shell and the gunner fired at the second tank. The shell flew and hit the engine of the other tank which disabled it and caused a fire. An enemy shell hit a tank near the command tank and Shogo recoiled from the sound of the Type 74’s reactive armor exploding.