X Aboard the RNS Saga, Day Five of Greyfield Strikes. X

The archipelago remained peaceful for several hours until the NRA fleet arrived. The majority of its cruisers, including what Brenner swore was a battlecruiser from the last war, had already deployed around the two battered islands under Rubinelle control, providing an effective screen against further air or sea attack. The group's two capital ships—a carrier and a massively huge battleship—as well as its troopships were safely anchored behind the island they'd helped save just yesterday. Fighters from the carrier joined the 12th Battalion's own in providing a constant CAP over them.

"Impressive, isn't it?" General Walraven remarked to Brenner as the two exited the transport copter that had lifted them to the carrier. They were here to meet with Admiral Hamilton and his staff to discuss strategy. While the admiral usually commanded from his battleship that was anchored just a mile away from the carrier's port side, he had moved here since his immediate subordinates were stationed here, and he didn't want to waste fuel moving his staff around.

"The Navy certainly has stayed well-organized," Brenner acknowledged. Most of the NRA and even Brenner's own battalion had become lax and a bit ragged during their time in the world. But, for all appearances, the New Rubinelle Army—Navy was the same polished force it had been before the disaster. It certainly spoke volumes about Admiral Hamilton's command abilities.

"I think it has to do with tradition," Walraven commented as a flight deck orderly guided the men away from the helicopter and towards the super structure. The deck was filled with about a dozen and a half parked Sky Raiders—the most numerous and now primary strike craft for the Rubinelle Navy. If the carrier wasn't so modern, you could almost mistake it for one from the last war. And even for something so old, they looked absolutely pristine here.

He maintains an effective fighting force but still finds ways to appear professional, Brenner mused. Professionalism and appearance had taken a back seat in ensuring everyone's safety and wellbeing, but Brenner had maintained a form of order and kept the 12th from becoming just an armed survivalist group. Still, he was already impressed with this man with whom he'd never met face to face.

The two Army officers allowed themselves to be guided through the labyrinth of the ship's interior to the meeting room, with a map of the archipelago posted on one of the walls. They were the last to arrive to the meeting, and they made up a third of the officers present. One was a Marine brigadier-general, an older man who seemed to be missing a chunk of his hand. Another was a female pilot, likely the Air Wing commander, and one was a Navy rear-admiral who likely commanded a large portion of the fleet. The last man, who was sitting at the head of the table in a pressed Navy Admiral dress uniform laden with dozens of medals and with a stone-hard expression on his face, had to be Admiral Hamilton.

Brenner sized the man up. Clearly, he was much a no-nonsense person as he'd sounded on the radio the first time they talked. Only his presence seemed to decide the atmosphere in the room—and he was extremely serious. Brenner also observed the other officers present. Judging by the fact they sat as far down as the table allowed, he suspected they either feared or greatly respected the admiral. But, actions spoke louder then looks, and the air raid earlier said this man was not only in complete control, but highly skilled. Privately, Brenner was surprised that a man with a formidable personality would be in such a high position within the NRA. Greyfield had given the impression he controlled—or so he believed—every aspect of the New Rubinelle Army, and that his control was unthreatened. To let such a man control most of Rubinelle's remaining naval assets, Greyfield must've been either incredibly foolish, or held this man in high regard. Brenner could have no way of knowing from what he only knew now.

"Captain Brenner." Admiral Hamilton's voice sounded just as deep and intimidating as it had been over the radio. "I find it interesting to finally meet you." His eyes lingered on Brenner for several moments longer before he addressed Walraven. "General, an excellent job seizing these islands; I can only apologize that my subordinate's inefficiency rendered your sacrifices nearly pointless."

"That's war, Admiral," Walraven sighed as he and Brenner took two of the available seats, "but those ships did at least take out some of the enemy with them." Admiral Hamilton didn't respond to the compliment. If he was bothered by any of the losses, he didn't show it, but Brenner suspected that a man who spent so much time crafting his forces would take the losses hard inside.

"These are the high-ranking officers in the combined fleet right now," Admiral Hamilton went on to the introductions, first motioning to the other admiral. "Rear-Admiral Mikhail Petrov commands half of the surface fleet." Petrov nodded in acknowledgment.

He's of Lazurian heritage, Brenner realized in a bit of surprise. Immigration between Rubinelle and Lazuria had long since been banned, although descendants of immigrants populated each country. General Forsythe was a notable example, his heritage being more Rubinelle than Lazurian. He was merely an exception to the rule; descendants of foreign immigrants rarely attained high positions in military or government in either country, a testament to the extreme xenophobia of either country. This man is not like Greyfield at all.

"Captain Myra Kerrigan commands the Carrier Air Wing." Hamilton motioned next to the pilot a few seats away from him, whose own expression was a fair impression of the one both Hamilton and Greyfield wore when Brenner saw them. She acknowledged the introduction with a brief nod. "She has fifty aircraft under her command, and we can assure you that we will throw everything that we have at them." Even if half of them were prop-driven, that was an impressive number of aircraft this late into the war.

"General Barajas is the commander of the Marine Expeditionary Unit attached to our fleet." The Marine brigadier-general was introduced next. "He's the highest ranking member of the Marine Corps still alive."

"It's an honor, Captain Brenner." The Marine general gave a toothy smile, revealing he was missing several. It was obvious his experience and success had at one point or another cost him physical injury. "I'm sure my men will be honored to storm the beaches alongside yours."

"Thank you." Brenner nodded, trying to ignore the pricking sensation on his skin. He could feel their eyes on him, the son of the man who'd taken these islands once but had lost the war shortly thereafter. He wouldn't be surprised if at least one of them had also served under his father in the last war. It was a different kind of pressure than he usually faced, and one he could not so easily shoulder alone.

"General Walraven, is it?" The Marine went on. "Your division used to be all over the papers after the meteors fell."

"Used to," Walraven repeated. "What a time it was. We were so much younger, and things so much simpler." The senior military officers—all of them but Admiral Hamilton and the Carrier Air Wing commander—shared a knowing and weary grin only men with certain experience could make. Hamilton observed the exchange, not knowing their pain but respecting the fact that they bared it, for several moments before moving on to discuss business.

"We're here to discuss a plan for capturing these islands," he stated. "Before we begin, are there any concerns?" Both Brenner and Walraven raised their arms.

"My forces are mechanized and can only move across water in landing craft, of which we have only a few," Brenner explained. "In the event of a landing, it would take us much longer to bring all our forces to bear on a beachhead."

"My men face a similar issue," Walraven nodded. "We have no heavy weapons left, and no means to transport them. They're damn fine infantrymen, but only if you can get them to the enemy." Admiral Hamilton took the news in and gave a curt nod.

"We have plenty of transport helicopters to move your forces," Hamilton assured the paratrooper, "and the Air Wing will support you against any heavy forces your troops can encounter. For the time being, I'm giving you command of a flight of attack choppers, and I am confident in your ability to use them wisely. Have one of your staff talk to Captain Kerrigan for the arrangements." Both Walraven and Kerrigan nodded. He then turned to Brenner. "Captain Brenner, we have plenty of landing craft within our fleet. I'm sure we can supplement yours to the point where you can land enough forces to make an impact. You'll have to discuss the specifics with General Barajas." Brenner and the Marine general nodded.

"I received the intel report both your staffs assembled." Hamilton nodded to the two Army officers. "That island occupied by artillery is our priority target, since it blocks our control of the seas where we need to land. I assume you will want it as a staging point as well?" When both the Army officers nodded, Hamilton stopped in thought for a moment. "We'll strike their forces on the main island first, specifically their aircraft and their ships. Isolating them from their supplies would be safer than risking our troops on a head-on assault against an enemy who is well-supplied. Captain Kerrigan, I expect you to show me a battle plan within the day, but I would prefer to see better results." The Air Wing commander nodded in understanding.

"On the subject of the landings," General Barajas spoke up, "I suggest that the MEU land on the northern strip on land, since we can access it more easily from the sea. Captain Brenner, your men can use the smaller island as a staging point and land on the southern strip from there."

"I was thinking of that myself," Brenner nodded in approval. "It's the only possible area where I could land my armored units, and we'll destroy more enemy forces fighting towards their HQ rather than just landing near it."

"Our first objective would be the ports then," Walraven commented, pointing to the map. "That area is highly industrialized; mechanized and armored forces wouldn't be able to operate there, assuming there are any left."

"There won't, and I will see to it myself." Admiral Petrov spoke for the first time. Walraven's eyes lingered on the man for a few seconds before nodding. Hamilton then turned to the rear-admiral and said, "But before that, Admiral Petrov, I want to see your plans for engaging the Lazurian surface fleet today. That will be our top priority—the last thing I want to hear would be Lazurian ships harassing our supply lines, or worse, surrounding us. I will not commit the same mistake that almost cost Ryman his fleet over a year ago." Petrov nodded in understanding as well.

"Those beaches are thin; armored forces will be bogged down easily." Walraven sounded as if he spoke from experience. "If I move my men into the port by helicopter from the center island, we can hold the area long enough for your forces to land and move in."

"The port will make the perfect staging area for an advance further onto the island," Barajas nodded in agreement.

"I am of the opinion that you three gentlemen are working on a plan," Hamilton said. When the three men confirmed as such, the admiral rose. "I suggest we wrap this up so the fleet can begin combat operations. Have your staffs come over and discuss the plan in better detail. I also expect to be briefed in as well."

"Understood, Admiral." The Army and Marine officers stood up as well.

"This meeting is adjourned. Gentlemen, have your forces stand down, replenish your supplies, and rest. We'll take over for now."

The rest of the week proved very uneventful for both the 12th Battalion and the 49th Division. The Rubinelle Navy handled the battle for the next few days, with the 12th Battalion's own air and naval assets standing down for much-needed replenishment and repairs. Every day there were two air raids and an artillery bombardment of Lazurian targets on the main island. Admiral Hamilton spoke the truth when he vowed to reduce the garrison to ashes.

After careful maneuvers that caught the enemy by surprise, the Lazurian Navy had been forced into a decisive battle on the seventh day and was reduced to a small flotilla of gunboats, although at the cost of an entire squadron of Sky Raiders, three cruisers sunk, and several others damaged that they had to be sent back to the mainland under escort. Regardless of its casualties, the fleet still had its two capital ships intact and a dozen remaining escorts.

The Lazurian Air Force proved to be more resistant than expected, which was surprising since they only had Sturmoviks to work with after their carrier was sunk. They successfully harassed the fleet every time it launched an attack, and had once forced the battleship to halt a bombardment only three minutes in, causing the battleship to open up with its AA batteries that made the sky even darker. The few remaining MiGs had managed to down a few of the Navy aircraft sent to bomb the island, but they were soon wiped out after a decisive engagement on the eighth day. Nevertheless, the Lazurian flyers remained active even as the days wore on; all the officers began to wonder just how many planes and pilots the Lazurians still had left to throw in and who could be commanding them so efficiently.

On the other hand, it was more difficult to determine the damage to their ground forces, since they weren't sure how many had been actually deployed. Intelligence said that the Lazurians had a complete tank regiment and a complete motor-rifle regiment in place; now, they were saying that the entire 3rd Guards Army had been deployed, based on the number of attack helicopters they had destroyed. That could be as much as a whole division of soldiers.

All their staffs were running in circles trying to make a plan to deal with all the unknowns. Most of the structures on the island—save for what was thought to be the headquarters at the eastern end of the island—had been damaged to the point that they were uninhabitable. They'd only know for sure when the enemy showed up to contest their landing—and the Navy would be ready to bomb them there as well.

The bottom line was that the Lazurian forces were deteriorating, and soon the Marines and the Army would move in to sweep up the pieces.

The 12th Battalion and 49th were kept busy throughout the week. Both forces spent that time going over their supplies and reorganizing their forces. After three days, the Battalion had brought its Naval Arm to a functioning state at the very least, although the combat power of its cruiser and destroyer were down by at least twenty per cent. Regardless, the Battalion made sure its land vehicles were prepped and ready to take action as well. The rest of their time was also spent working on the islands. Once this archipelago was clear, it would become a staging area for the final Rubinelle push into Lazuria. It had to be ready to serve as that hub, and the mothballed and destroyed state it was in wouldn't do. With the air and naval threat gone, the 49th Division reoccupied the center island. With help from Marine engineers and Navy construction units, all three islands were prepared for the inevitable influx of men and equipment. They had even started construction on a small port on the south of the island, or at least as much as they could with what scarce building material they had on hand.

True to their word, the NRA helped them bridge their shortcomings. The MEU had lent five landers to the 12th Battalion. It was enough that Brenner could land a whole tank company at once, and they could hold their own until more mechanized forces could land. A dozen Navy transport helicopters and the flight of Navy attack choppers promised a few days ago also moved in to assist the 49th Division, and a cargo vessel carrying heavier ordinance for their use—anti-tank rockets and other heavy arms—had come as well, restoring the 49th to a capable force.

The landing operation, codenamed 'Drawbridge', had been finalized as well. The plan was thus: Walraven would land two battalions in the port area to seize and hold it, and would land another near the ridges that overlooked the third beach to make the enemy draw themselves out. The other three battalions would stay in reserve, ready to reinforce the battalions in the port area or the one in the ridge. The MEU, consisting mostly of mechanized and motorized infantry, would land on the northern beach and rush in to reinforce the 49th Division, with its tank and artillery companies landing directly at the port later. Finally, the 12th Battalion, which was to be the steel fist of the offensive, would land on the southern beach as suggested. The first company to land would be accompanied by the modified War Tank, which would rush to the port and hold off any attempt to retake the area. The rest of the 12th would land soon after and brute-force its advance to the Lazurian HQ, bringing all its assets to bear and inflicting maximum casualties, while the Marines and the 49th Division secured its flanks and rear, as well as sweeping the rest of the island.

When the time came, all three units would be able to fight swiftly and efficiently. It was just a matter of waiting now.

X Aboard the RNS Hellhound, Day Ten of Greyfield Strikes. X

Admiral Hamilton contacted both Army officers earlier that day to tell them that landing operations would be able to commence in less than 24 hours. With their forces as ready as they could be, they saw no reason to deny a meeting with the admiral on the bridge of the Hellhound. As it turned out, it was an invitation to watch the bombardment of the last obstacle to their landing operation.

"We've been monitoring air and naval traffic between the two islands," Hamilton explained as he, Barajas, and the Army officers stood in the flag bridge as the ship sailed northwest. "At this point, we're sure the artillery forces are low on supplies and are vulnerable. You can use it as a staging point as soon as the smoke clears." Hamilton paused. "Your reputations precede the three of you," he addressed them, "and to have survived so long takes certain ability. I will be interested to see it."

"It'll be something to see," Walraven answered vaguely.

The battleship began its approach to one of the two island bastions Lazuria held. In the distance, they could make out the coasts where they would soon be landing. Eight cruisers formed a tight protective screen around the Hellhound, and carrier aircraft were flying closer to the mainland as a distraction. For once, the Lazurian gunboats and few remaining aircraft didn't give them any trouble, which struck Hamilton as suspicious, but he continued to plod on. Time wasn't exactly on anyone's side.

"This is a very impressive ship," Brenner said.

"Twenty-seven 460mm guns: one turret section has the firepower of a contemporarily designed battleship, meaning this ship is equal to three others." Hamilton nodded. "This ship was actually considered as a prototype for a whole class—the Zeus class. But, it proved too expensive for mass production and naval doctrine was changed. I think her battle record displays how smart that decision was." He sounded proud, the first positive emotion they might've heard from the man.

"Sir, we'll be in firing range in three minutes!" A bridge officer called. The guest officers stood to the side as the battleship got busy and men rushed to their stations. It was three minutes later when, with a noticeable jerk, the battleship came to a halt. The island was just a faint outline in the distance, their ship beyond the reach of any Lazurian ground-based artillery.

"Commence the bombardment," Hamilton ordered. "Front turret only, and be ready to move as soon as the attack is finished if necessary." The three officers strode to the front window to see the nine guns of the front three-stacked turrets move upwards, pointing at the island in the distance. And then, with a colossal sound, they all fired. The whole ship shook, but only the three officers new to the sound stumbled. The sky was still for a moment before massive primary and secondary explosions shook the horizon, engulfing what they could see of the island; it was a direct hit.

"And that's why they say the Navy has the best artillery!" A junior officer called to the stunned Army officers. Brenner had never seen anything with such destructive force. He doubted he could create even half of that explosion with all his artillery assets combined. He reminded himself that his own artillery complement was fairly considerable for what had started out as a tank battalion, but it paled in comparison nevertheless. The ship fired four more successive salvos, and after seeing the ghastly effects of the bombardment, Brenner was sure none in the island would still be alive.

Lazuria must've been hardy if they survived with this ship loose for so long.

"We don't get to fire the guns that often," another bridge officer explained. "We rarely fire more than three at once; and then only one salvo. This ship has never fired all her guns simultaneously, did you know that?" The ship made Brenner think of an expensive super weapon politicians used to dream about a decade ago: expensive, outlandish to look at, and could only be used in very few circumstances. But, when they were used...

"Redirect our planes to fly over the island for a damage assessment, and send word to the Capital we've decimated the enemy force," Hamilton ordered, having decided that the bombardment was enough. He turned to his guests while his bridge crew carried out his orders. "We've upheld our side of the plan; the rest is up to you."

"We'll finish the fight," Brenner nodded. Walraven opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by an alarmed shout from one of the communication officers.

"Sir, we sent the message and have received an urgent response from the Capital." The three of them turned towards the commotion.

"Read it," Hamilton ordered.

"Other Lazurian forces managed to rally, sir," the officer explained. "Air and naval units are assaulting the Marine battalions defending the Channel. Casualties are already heavy and there are no assets available to fight them off. Your fleet and the MEU are ordered to return and defend the islands and ensure the continued security of the mainland, sir."

"I left several ships behind to guard the mainland. The battleship Aegir was being refitted when we left and should've been at sea by now." Hamilton shook his head. "Slow, incompetent, sloppy." His anger was manifest in his voice when he said it. Hamilton then looked down at the message and out the window towards the main island, his face suddenly expressionless. "Captain Brenner, General Walraven." He turned to face both officers. "Given the fragile state of the Armed Forces right now, any concentrated push would render any success here pointless. I cannot ignore these orders." Brenner wasn't surprised by the news. He knew for a fact all capable Rubinelle forces were out here because this was—had been—the only place where the effective Lazurian forces were. That wasn't true now, and they had to react accordingly.

"I understand." Brenner nodded.

"We're used to this by now." Walraven's smiled sardonically. "We've survived before. We can do it again."

"Sir," another bridge officer approached them with a message. "We have a damage assessment from the aircraft." He paused before reading the message. "The island and all artillery on it have been completely leveled—no sign of the enemy, sir. However, they report seeing men and vehicles mobilizing on the main island as they left. The aircraft was shot upon as well, but they managed to escape. The enemy appears to be assuming defensive positions, sir." So, the Lazurian ground forces survived despite the daily bombardment. How many of them were left?

"That was fast." General Barajas' eyes narrowed. "Right after the order to pull the fleet back... This was clearly an organized counterattack to influence the battle here, and now it has completely upset the momentum." They let it sink at that. Just like before, the entire war was hanging in the balance. Last time it had been a victory or a defeat, but now it was the threat of a permanent stalemate, and by extension the risk of history repeating itself all over again.

"I apologize that we can no longer provide our support," Hamilton said. "As I said, your reputations precede you, and I am confident in your abilities to finish this fight. General Walraven, I will leave the transport and the attack choppers to you as I promised. Same goes to the landers I left to you, Captain Brenner. You'll be alone, but at least our equipment can make your efforts count." Hamilton saluted them and left, with the Marine general and his staff in tow.

A few minutes later, the two Army officers made their way to the chopper that would take them back to their HQs. Brenner had called on Lin earlier, and asked her to send one of the Battalion's choppers to pick them up. He had also brought her up to date on the latest development, and asked her to prepare a new plan as well, which she was now doing. Both men were deep in thought. As the chopper lifted off the Hellhound's helipad, Walraven turned to the now-troubled man beside him. "Well, it looks like we need a new plan, Brenner." He looked north. "And we need one fast before Lazuria comes up with another trick on their sleeve." Brenner nodded. Their old plan had been effectively gutted. Now, they needed one to work, and with far less resources. Despite the many things to be worked out, only one question kept turning on their heads.

Could any such plan be successful?