Alyona woke up, out of an erotic dream she was having, to hearing "General Quarters! This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill all hands man your battle stations!" called over the Titan's P.A. System. Cursing she rolled out of her bed, and put on her TABA. She grabbed her Malakov SMG and ran out of her room. She turned a corner and ran smack dab into Afonik.
"Hey, slow down, no hurry really, we're just out side of Minsk. General Tiberius wants the entire division's first wave commanders in the briefing room as of right now." He said smiling. Tank personnel by nature wore the same type of body armor as Combat Engineers, and they practically carried the same load-out except for the Tankers didn't carry the rocket launchers but instead opted for more Sub Machine Gun ammo, and more stamina. She nodded, and the two made their way to the briefing room.
The room was just like any other public room in on-board the Titan. White-Grey walls, with Pan-Asian Coalition propaganda plastered all over it. The PAC formed in 2009 when it became apparent that the world was due for another Ice Age, and it was going to happen fast. In the beginning the PAC consisted of only Japan, North Korea, and China, but by 2138 had come to incorporate, Japan, both Koreas, China, Vietnam, India, Laos, Cambodia, Australia, New Zealand, and many other Pacific States, the United States was invited, but due to having ties to both the European Union and the Pan-Asian Coalition opted for a more neutral aspect, they took to orbit, and began to sell their orbital bombardments, charging both the EU and the PAC, money. "If you would be so kind to sit down Lieutenant." The Australian General said in his accented Russian. Alyona apologized and found a seat that Afonik had been saving for her.
"The Titan Technicians believe that the storm we have been in will dissipate in little less than Three Hours, during this time all Tanks of the 5th Tank Guards Division are to be in the process of being put on the ground, a phase that has already been completed," the General stopped and took a sip of pure fresh water as he brought up a map of Minsk, "the blasted Americans have limited the areas we can fight, which are marked by these yellow striped lines, we can't fight in those, nor can we traverse in that area, only Aircraft can-" another Tank Commander raised his hand. "Yes?" The General called on him. "Why can't we use that area? The Americans aren't our bosses." The man said rather pissed off. The General exhaled violently, "Do you like friendly orbital strikes?"
"Yes."
"That is why."
"What, are you saying, sir?"
"I'm saying is that we don't get the very much needed ability to do an Orbital Strike on the European front lines if you break the American's rules of engagement. I hate it just as much as you, but those strikes are precious to this war effort and one person breaking the rules just once, means that the Europeans will have the orbital advantage and not us. So therefore, you are strictly for-bidden to enter those restricted areas, do you understand me, 2nd Lieutenant Silver?"
"Crystal, sir."
The rest of the briefing was uneventful and short, with the General saying that our objectives have already been uploaded to our tank's targeting computers. After the commanders were dismissed they filed out one by one towards the Titan's flight deck, all of the silently waiting for the storm to end and the battle to begin.
Field Commissar Gold Zanipolo Bianchi hated the snow storms of Minsk. The could mask enemy approaches, not that there was an enemy, how-ever there were reports of a possible war with the PAC. So because of that, he had to sit in a bunker that was situated between a rock and a hard place or what a geologist would call, a Ridge and a River. He hated the cold, being from southern Italy. Sure, it go t cold there, but not like the minus forty degree weather of Minsk. Hell at least he still had what you could call a spring. A staff officer came by and placed a data pad that showed the results of a radar sweep of the surrounding area. As predicted the storm was so powerful that it showed up as sixteen huge blobs. Even though they were just atmospheric anomalies, the Commissar pulled his Bianchi FA-7 Light Machine Gun closer to him. The Bianchi FA-6 LMG is remarkably effective as a provider of suppressive fire given its all-condition resilience and lengthy firing duration. Unlike its 21st century precursors, with its heat-resistant metal alloy components and computer-driven thermal transfer system, the Bianchi FA-6 requires neither mid-battle barrel changes nor maintenance, allowing for rapid, uninterrupted fire. The brain-child of his great grand-father, the Bianchi family from the shores of Messina have been rolling in riches since it began mass production. The Commissar scanned the clouds and noticed that they were dying down, except for his atmospheric anomalies. He suddenly sat up in his chair. The staff officer noticed, "Something wrong, sir?" Bianchi nodded.
"We are going to war. Sound the alarm."
"Yes, sir."