(Title translation: The Fall's Beginning)
Shores of Oured Bay, Osea, 02/06/1995, 21:00, Weather: medium cloud coverage.
A small group of persons was watching the area, focused on anything specific that could happen right now. They weren't scouts, nor overseers or snipers. Of course, they weren't soldiers, even if in this era of data that the World Wide Web had allowed to create their actions could do more damage than hundreds of soldiers, if well organized and foreseen. Their equipment was comprised of cams, mikes, pen and paper, but it could spread as much chaos if not more than another EMP disaster.
However, as nothing specific was happening right now, the group of journalist began to talk between each other's, sharing data, last news and reports, last juicy news and tabloids, and of course some last news of their family for the ones that had managed to establish some friendships.
One of them who opened the talk was the special envoy Delacre, which was describing the inside of the Belkan embassy to his colleague of OBC and the Osean Times.
"So yeah, there's this big metallic fence a bit medieval all around it, and some old divided windows, who much surely be a pain to clean, but the inside is pretty modern. They did keep the old and fancy candelabras, but they put some LEDs where the candles were. A typical good alliance of modern and old to me."
"You lucky bastard. They will never let us in." His OBC colleague complained, since for obvious reasons no Osean was allowed in.
"And they have very good power supply. At least theirs are EMP-proof it seems. I mean, even our offices in Oured suffered from it, I lost all my podcast that day." The journalist from The Osean Times admitted with some reluctance that Belkan technology might have an edge there.
"And how's Eugene junior?" Delacre asked with a slightly lower voice, since he knew the son of his colleague was in Aurelia by a far-away relative.
"Well, he has a hard time coping with the reversed seasons." Eugene senior answered, admitting that it was still easier to cope with a cold Fall in June rather than an EMP. He had once thought the war would come to an end by June or July due to the initial streak of allied victories. However, the current state of the allied front that had stalled on the Belkan border had reduced his wishes of a short end, like many people living in the allied states.
"I once went there in July. I had only brought tee-shirt and that kind of things, since I was going south. I thought I would come back with a well-tanned skin. I only came back with the influenza." The OBC reporter shared this little anecdote. To think that they had statues of Santa Claus on a surfboard was a good way to see they chose to make fun of those reversed seasons rather than complaining about them.
" On a side note, my second degree cousine find him a new surname: Genette." The Osean Times journalist added, knowing this habit of using junior and senior was a bit disappearing with time.
" Jeunette? It seemed a bit feminine to me, but that will definitely set the both of you apart." Delacre repeated with his Ustian accent, changing a bit the writing of this new name.
"No, Delacre. Genette. The final e is a deaf one. Your accent will always be quite funny, my dear colleague." Eugene senior corrected him, before having a small laugh.
A few meters away, three other journalists were speaking. There was the envoy of The World Times from the FCU, Réactions of Farbanti and La Polémica of Sapin.
" I wonder how the Ustian minister Kerzen is dealing with all of this. I mean, what is he representing right now but two fighters and their defensive troops in Directus?" The FCU journalist tried to understand what the great role of those mercenary squad was, which they had heard so much on, even on his far away city of Chopinburg on the Usean continent.
"Well, they took Directus back. And shot down quite a lot of Belkan aces. But I agree they cannot do that much with only two planes." The journalist of La Polémica, a dark-haired woman in her forties said while shrugging a bit. She knew they had secured some critical operation in April and May, but now there wasn't any good news from any battlefields. Of course, any good news for the allied forces.
"By the way, have you heard of those citizens of North Point that have reported the fall of some space debris?" The Erusean-sounding voice of the envoy of Réactions inquired, having heard only pieces from this event.
"Well, some people in the Comona Islands and Prefanesia saw them too. People thought of shooting stars at first, or even UFOs for some crazy dudes. But from the astronomy community there, they are certain these are not UFOs but rather some dust resulting of a strike from Excalibur." His colleague from the FCU completed, having drawn his cell phone from his pocket to see the news of his colleague on the homeland.
In all honesty, the likelihood that they could be a true UFO from another galaxy or solar system was infinitesimally low. Besides, if they had truly obtained the key to faster-than-light travel to come here, maybe they would be smart enough to avoid a planet on the verge of destruction, with one of its nation possessing a superlaser that could surely shot down some mothership if those aliens respected the laws of physics, unlike in any of these sci fi franchises.
Of course, the message that were saying there were space debris arrived on his phone quicker than the falling debris. As such, for a good half hour, nothing happened. Nothing at all, the sky was clear of any otherworldly colors, only featuring the print of the fighter jets doing CAP and other transport crafts.
However, after twenty minute of friendly chit chat, the journalist finally had something to focus on. A great number of lights were illuminating the clear sky, shadowing the far away stars. It was like new constellations had appeared out of the blue. But these lights weren't static: they were in motion, growing in intensity, number and size by the minute. For some of them, it was reminding some sci fi movies about the fall of NEO and such. A strange electronic buzzing sound, which was slowly gaining in intensity, was beginning to be heard all other the place. It looked like this sound was coming from a dark abyss or the infinity.
They had quite a nice view on what was looking like a stellar aeroliths rain. But they would not be the one with the better view on the event. Little did they know, they would surely be happy not to be in the better view of this event when it would be enacted.
Bridge of the Kestrel-class Discovery aircraft carrier, Oured Bay, Osea, 02/06/1995, 21:30, Weather: overcast.
The captain Josh Vickers had considered himself to be lucky. His carrier and her escort fleet had emerged almost unscathed from the EMP disaster. Furthermore, the fixing of their electronics and the avionics of the airplanes they were carrying was almost over. And those new F/A-18F Super Hornet armed with XMAAs, LASMs and XAGMs would surely be a great asset over the future battles in the Belkan sky, when the round table would have finally been toppled over.
Yet, he had a bit of worry about the future of the war. Half of the pieces of those Super Hornets had been salvaged from the remains of the burned factory, half had been produced under license in countries of South Osea, with Leasath being a good piece's supplier. This had come for a cost of technological transfer of course, meaning that the manufacturer they contracted in this country had almost obtained the blueprints of those fighters for free. Furthermore, the man leading this weapon industries, known as Melchior Navarro, wasn't someone he would have trusted on this one. He was a greedy man that rivaled in this field their best traders, capable of turning his coat for any amount of money. To Vickers' mind, it would have been better to try using other factories amongst the allied states to diminish the risk of suffering supply shortage. However, for an unknown reason, the Osean high command had refused to contract anything from Axe and Hammer, which had suffered no damage of the EMP disaster or other national weapon manufacturer in the allied states.
Another worry was the low-quality planes they would buy to poorer nation or recycle from their wreckage graveyard near Solo island on the North-Western Osean Coast, a pretty desolate place, as it had been used as test ground for nukes decades ago. By themselves they were not that expensive, and the few electronics they needed to add to turn them into distractor UCAVs to keep Excalibur busy during operation such as operation Battle-Axe were not either. However, if the war continued to last, the cost would soon grow exponentially. And there was no good way to decrease the cost of using them. If they just launched them with long range radio guidance, they would more than often not be agile enough to evade Helligen Kolumne or the plasma shutter created by Merlin satellites, and any Belkan in a fighter or even a basic shoulder-mounted SAM would be able to take them down. And using EW planes to guide them would only result in pointless human losses.
And this was only one of the few shortages Osea had managed to solve partially. The EMP disaster had not only killed and destroyed civilians and military assets, but it had also slowed down the manufacturing process of many others, causing a domino effect, which resulted in the stalling of the majority of the great scale deployments. Thus, Belka could keep pace with Osea, despite Osea being an hyperpower and Belka only a local power.
He was about to take a walk out of the isle to appreciate the peaceful sky when the supposedly peaceful sky was shattered by a myriad of glowing lights. Glowing lights which were growing in size and intensity by the second. Soon the emergency alarms blared from the speakers, causing the high-ranking officer to run for a radar monitor. Each of those lights was produced by the fall of metallic parts into the bay. They had little time to move. And they couldn't move that much, since many of their ships were still suffering engine or rudder issues or fuel shortage from the EMP disaster.
For him, and for many sailors, marines, and the officers leading them, it seemed like time had stopped. People were doing nothing, or nothing which would matter. Some were startled, with no idea of what to do. Others were just stricken down by the sheer fear of being attacked in their homeland, while they were vulnerable. Osea's unrivaled naval power would suffer soon. Vickers issued an order, but would it be useful against near hypersonic projectiles?
"Initiate AA fire!" He shouted to his motionless officers, hoping that if they shattered the oncoming objects, it would decrease the damage.
And as such, shells, shrapnels, vertically launched missiles from the Aegis vessels, and more oblique fire from the cruisers and destroyer blanketed the sky above the Oured Bay. Some falling fragments splintered slightly, but the explosive power of the Osean AA artillery was not enough, and since they weren't intercepting conventional ammo, those fragments weren't blown up by the AA fire either. As such, most of this heavy deployment of fire revealed to be anything but an utterly failed attempt at delaying the inexorable.
And five minutes after seeing the first of those light, hell break loose. It seemed no Helligen Kolumne was required to unleash hell on the Osean fleet. The half-consumed debris had now reached a speed well above hypersonic velocity.
From the sky, an AWACS could do nothing but watch the scene with despair. The E-6B Mercuries that were covering the sky, as they could operate during nuclear fallout, this making them a bit resilient against the Merlin Satellites. Yet their hardened fuselage and structure made them easier to track, and they would be easy prey for the Belkan ERAAMs and Excalibur indirect or direct fire. However, in this very moment, it was not Excalibur's doing that were threatening their forces, but the remains of their own Wunderwaffe that in the end would have achieved nothing for them. If someone could detach himself from the gruesome scene that was going to happen, he would surely find an almost artistic sense in the light print the burning parts of this satellite were drawing in the sky.
Of course, for all marines and sailors, time was not for artistic considerations. The time that appeared to be stopped for the sailors was nothing but a moment of pure horror and utter chaos. On some ships, sailors just jumped into the water, forgetting all safety. But the vast majority were just so stricken by fear and astonishment that they couldn't do anything but watch the sky helplessly, as the falling part were visible by now.
Due to their hypersonic speed, the Osean onboard the boats had only a split second to look up to the sky one last time. Then the parts hit their ships or impacted them to be more precise. Manny were ripped apart or even cut in half by the sheer kinetic energy of those hypersonic projectiles. Indeed, those satellite parts weren't that big, but the kinetic energy of hypersonic objects made them as powerful as heavy-duty missiles. The biggest parts would first blow up the external hull of the ships due to the overheated all around then, then explode due to sheer kinetic power, being more powerful than thermobaric bombs. The few that survived direct hits were so shaken by the shockwaves they would often capsize and then sink. They had thought water would absorb the impact, but at such speed, water was harder than concrete for those falling parts. Furthermore, as sound was travelling faster in water than in the air, the shockwave spread quite quickly, even sinking some ships that were at one or two kilometers from the center of the impacts.
And the carrier met the worst fate. The main part of the Osean superweapon, the railgun that was propelling the ordnance of this weapon, went right through it, surrounded by a massive column of overheated air and smaller metallic particles. It seemed a luminescent arrow was piercing the bridge of the ship instantaneously, tearing through the hull like it was nothing. The ship was broken in half, but not fully destroyed yet. Of course, it was damaged way beyond salvation. But salvation never came, as the nuclear reactor powering this Kestrel-class carrier blow up due to the impact and the EMIs induced by the fall of those projectiles messing with its neutron capacitors that were limiting the nuclear disintegration to a needed level, thus resulting in a nuclear chain-reaction, or to make things short, the reactor turning itself into an atomic bomb. The Captain Vickers only had a microsecond to scream before his body and the ones of his horrified sub-officers were disintegrated, with all of them being paralyzed as they watched this horrific event unfold. The nuclear detonation damaged even further any damaged ship in the area and terminated any survivors that thought someone would rescue them later on.
From the perspective of the Mercuries operators, it was like long rays of colored light were hitting the ships and the water all around them, reducing an entire Osean fleet to smithereens, before a nuke explode in the middle of all of this wreckage. From an entire carrier group and multiples escorts what remained were nothing but a thin layer of small metallic pieces from the destroyed ships and the fallen satellite that had been utterly consumed by the fall and the subsequent impact. A third of Osea's Home Fleet was destroyed that day.
Shores of Oured Bay, Osea, 02/06/1995, 22:00, Weather: risk of thunder.
The weather had become a bit unstable due to this little satellite parts shower. The journalist managed to keep their stability of mind despite this utter destruction they witnessed and recorded on their cams or notebooks, but it was not the case of some of the escorting soldiers nearby. Furthermore, three minutes after the cloud of vapor finished settling down, a group of three Osean APCs arrived and one officer came out of it, with a very unkind look.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, you will have to hand me over your cams, recorders, or any data regarding this incident." The officer inquired, moving toward the journalist. Some had felt a bit uneasy and had stepped back next to their cars after these events, with Eugene Senior, Denis Delacre, the Erusean Réactions special envoy and his colleague of ENN (Erusea News Network) and the female journalist from the La Polémica, being the closest to a black car of above average size for a journalist. Indeed, this ZBM 4x4 was a bit too big for a journalist, Delacre had realized when he bought it from the ZBM dealer in Hoffnung before the war. He bought it because it allowed him to have a nearby satellite antenna as a relay.
"And why? Osea is not enforcing censorship on war coverage, as far as I know." The Osean Times journalist asked, not understanding the behavior from this officer of his own country.
"I have nothing to justify. Orders are not letting any events being turned into unofficial Belkan propaganda." The officer replied coldly, staring particularly at Delacre when using the term "Belkan propaganda" he emphasized greatly. For him these Ustian journalists were far too kind with the Belkans, and almost showed support to the Belkan representative. The Sapin were not that far either. The Erusean were not supporting Belkan directly, they knew they couldn't back them without attracting Osea's ire, but they had been undermining their effort of spreading their influence on the Usean continent. And that Osean Times guy, he wasn't holding in higher esteem either: they were a leftist newspaper that had published they should consider peace talks as a way to end this war. This war couldn't be ended by any other way but the utter destruction of Belka for this Osean officer.
"And, Major Ransack, how will the detention of all of these journalists not being turn into at least anti-Osean propaganda?" Delacre asked with a sly tone, after reading the officer name on his plate, thinking this officer would have a bit of logic behind his Osean brain. Now the small four-persons group they were all near Delacre stepped back, even closer to his car.
"You can either give us what we want, or..." Ransack stopped before he pulled out his handgun and threatened Delacre with it. "Your death will be unnoticed with the EMP disaster having destroyed the CCTV cams network, and we will just said you had been invited to the Discovery this evening and as such erasing you from history will not be that hard, see ?" He finished his threat before raising the gun right at the height of the Ustian's head.
"I might have a counter-offer you should consider." The Ustian said quite calmly, despite being threatened by a gun at only one meter of his head.
"And what? You should obey like your OBC and World Times colleague" Ransack rudely retorted, with those two journalists having complied. Yet it was understandable, as OBC was hand-fed by the Osean government, and World Times from the Federation of Central Usea did not want to risk endangering the talks of an alliance between its territories and the Osean Federation, and known through some leaks as the Dual Alliance.
"This!" He took opportunity that the Osean used the arm holding the gun to point at those two journalists, and at turn his look away for an instant, thus not threatening him for an instant. He had got out some self-defense gas canister, and while pulling away the arm holding the gun, sprayed its content at the Osean officer. But its content wasn't some pepperoni or teargas. No, it was an illegal content some Ustian resistance member handed to him during the occupation, even if the HNO in the ingredient list should have warned him of what it was. But the brown gas it produced by the reaction on the Osean skin and the scream of pain of the Osean officer that had fell to his knees, reminded him of what the resistance used to dislodge some Belkans. Only four Belkans had survived this chemical attack.
"Eugene, climb, we've got to go!" he shouted as he run for his car, with some Osean soldier which were accompanying Ransack being a bit reluctant to shoot.
"On vous suis, Ustian (we are following you)." The Eruseans did not think twice of this situation that was turning not well at all. Definitely not. The Sapin journalist followed them too. Taking advantage of the temporary surprise of the Osean soldiers, who didn't know at first what their assignment was before they were picked by this Ransack major and brought here.
One did fight off its struggle and fire at the black four-wheel car, hurting one of the Erusean journalist. He should have aimed at its tires rather than aiming for its passengers, as the car's engine came to life pretty quickly and the ZBM went out of their scope. Then, a very severely wounded Ransack shouted at them:
"Stop firing with those, chase them and hunt them down with the APCs. I want them dead or alive." He said, despite the pain torturing him and his face having been corroded by the vaporized nitric acid.
"But sir, you're in critical conditions. We need to bring you to Oured Central Health Center." A soldier pointed out, still a bit taken aback that those Ustian resistance members had given this chemical weapon to a journalist as a self-defense weapon.
"Fine, two APCs should be enough against their Belkan-made car. Make them understand ours are better." Ransack agreed with great reluctance that he wasn't in a fighting state, to his regret. His somewhat slightly fat face had surely gone slimmer right now, but nitric acid was not a very skin-healthy product.
Osean Highway, Oured, 02/06/1995, 22:30, Weather: little fog.
The fall of so many satellite parts had created a bit of fog, and the blast had pushed it toward the Osean shores. This had allowed the ZBM to overrun its pursuer for a bit of time, but not for that long.
"They're catching with us!" Eugene shouted, seeing in the right mirror the threatening silhouette of the Osean APC getting closer despite the Belkan-made car having reached the one hundred and sixty kilometers per hour.
"We are not done yet." Delacre tried to comfort his friend, while looking a bit at the injured Erusean on the back seat. He hadn't been severely injured, only a bullet to the left leg that by luck hadn't go through the femoral artery, but there was a great likelihood it went through the sciatic nerve, as the Erusean wasn't feeling his leg anymore. In any case, he was in need of emergency. Bringing him to Oured Central Health Center was out of choice, obviously.
And he was a bit right when he said he wasn't done yet. By luck those APCs had not they standard grenade-launcher, but only small anti-air armament that wasn't made to fire at ground vehicle.
He saw one opportunity to lose those APCs for good, or at least for a great amount of time. There was a transfer way up ahead - a highway entree and sortie linked together, which was often dangerous-. And a heavy truck was approaching, already setting its light to indicate it would be coming on the highway. Delacre put the pedal to the metal, forgetting for a moment they were carrying a wounded on the back seat. He knew he wouldn't appreciate it but being behind bars would always be worse. And so, he cut the road of the heavy truck as he was entering the highway. Of course, its driver tried to maneuver to avoid the collision, but turned his wheel too quickly, thus losing control of his vehicle.
From the first APC, what they saw was a truck getting into a jackknife position, and thus blocking the entire highway. Its driver hit the brakes desperately, but it didn't prevent the crash. Hopefully for them it was not a fuel delivery truck, or they would have ended roasted. No, it was a wood delivery truck, and as such, their APC was further damaged when the cargo of the truck went loose, almost crushing the armored truck and heavily damaged the other one. Both team manning them could only cursed at that Ustian journalist that had chosen not to comply and had shown them that not every men of the allied countries was fully supporting the allied forces.
Now Delacre was driving at dazzling speed, despite him not being on the highway anymore. He knew the Oseans must be desperate to come to this kind of methods. Obviously, just getting in the bureau his radio was renting him would not be enough to be safe. No, he needed to go somewhere where the Osean laws had no grasp on him.
"Yeah, I agree, but the Sapin Border is way too far. And do not speak about getting South either. There will be roadblock in less than an hour, and I doubt your jeep can go through them." Eugene senior expressed his pessimism, not believing this crazy chase could end well in any way.
"I know, Eugene, I know. We just need to reach the Peace Park. Then we should be fine." The Ustian responded with a bit of confidence, having now set his course to this place where Osea's rule was coming to an end. "By the way, how are you, Erusean?" He asked to the ENN journalist, which had still a pretty nasty wound on his leg. Putting a proper dressing was quite hard in those conditions, but at least the pressure point his Sapin colleague from the La Polémica had made had diminished the bleeding.
"But then where?" The other Erusean journalist inquired, trying to figure which place would be safe from Osea's wrath in the heart of its capital they were heading to.
Peace Park, Oured, Osea, 02/06/1995, 23:00, Weather: little rain.
They had had to go through some roadblock but by luck those consisted mainly of police vehicle put together without anti-tire traps and such. Yet their jeep has not come out of this unscathed. They had suffered a bit of fire from some handguns, and Delacre was now sure they had an oil leak, and the windshield would not made that far if they took any more fire. But right now, he was finally arriving where he wanted to be.
The Peace Park might be bearing an almost paradoxical name, being located just in front of the Osean Defense Secretary. After all, it had been built on the cinders of a working-class district, the last in the inner city of Oured. It had burned during the last conflict between Osea and Belka, fifty years ago, due to a Belkan bomber missing its target, the imperial-like building which its entrance was behind a raw of high columns made of marble, to show Osea's might and wealth. He could have done some bras d'honneur to those Oseans that blindly condemned them, but the Ustian journalist was a bit too busy finding the entrance of the Park. Thirty second later, he would cross the road and the street walk, before rushing in the entrance. Luckily for him the park was empty by that time.
"He's turning into the Peace Park!" An Osean police officer bellowed on the radio. He was a bit reluctant to follow him there, due to the park being on a quite sloppy terrain. Yet it was sloping toward the embassy area.
"If I follow him, I'm going to screw the shock absorbers on the stairs in that park. Just circle around." Another police officer advised his colleague, trying to be rational when this whole evening had been utterly depleted of reason for the Oseans, following this new disaster.
"Circle around if you want. An APC will arrive shortly to pursue them." A sterner voice announced, belonging to their commander.
And soon, all around the Peace Park, police cars began to fill the space, not knowing exactly where the jeep would exit it from. Yet this was a long job, which would not be completed as quick as the commander would have wanted. The sloped terrain wasn't helping, and the fact that at some point passageways for walkers or bikes and their barriers were blocking the road either. As such, these pesky Ustians might have taken a good shortcut, he had to admit that with great reluctance.
A bit before the APC arrived, two motorbikes of the Oured Police District tried to chase the fugitives. Their shock absorbers were a bit reinforced, and so they thought they could catch up with the black vehicle, which they saw its light being shaken each time he was stepping down sets of stairs, which was quite often, but only by group of two or three, nothing unbearable for the good shock absorbers of this ZBM. But being shaken was a bit harder to bear for the wounded Erusean.
"Brilliant Idée this shortcut. But I'm bleeding again with all this remue-ménage (fuss)!" He expressed his concern toward the success of their uncertain endeavor. He would not pass out due to the bleeding right now, but if this went on for more than ten minutes, he would require medical care.
"We are halfway there. Hang in there, mon cher." Delacre replied, trying to be confident. He had just to go straight through the Peace Park and they would reach neutral territory. Or what he thought could be considered as neutral territory in the middle of Oured.
"Damn, there are bikes pursuing us!" Eugene pointed out, as he heard the sound of two small vehicle and saw their lights on at full light, maybe in an effort to blind the driver of the pursued car.
"Let them gain a bit." Delacre hit the brakes, thus surprising the two bikes who were definitively gaining ground in this kind of sloped terrain, possessing less powerful engine braking than he did.
"Mike here, we are gaining ground on them." The first OPD biker radioed, sure to catch them before this APC arrived, and thus already having the idea of claiming the glory of this capture. Despite his self-confidence, and his bike strong shock absorbers, they hoped this chase would not last too long, or what they would gain from this capture will go right in the pocket of their mechanics for the bikes, and their physiotherapist due to the backache riding through small set of staircase would cause them.
"Say hello to inertia!" Delacre wished them good luck, as he pulled the handbrake, making the car stall for some second. The engine would not like this, being stopped at such speed in the middle of such dangerous terrain. But it was already better than the fate of the bikers following them: as the black car, which had switched off its lights, came to a stop, they did not realize in time, and both hit the back of the car. Both Osean cops flew over the car, before landing in the grass nearby. They would definitively get more than a small backache from this chase.
"And now we have to make up for lost time. Avanti." Eugene said, as he was now hearing a faint engine sound, a one that was a bit further, but that was surely the one of an APC, expressing all his stress in his last world, one he had remembered from a reportage in Emmeria. The car just came to life without any care for the engine. Delacre forgot a bit to care about it right now and focused a bit more on getting to safety.
"Just a few more minutes." Delacre informed, as they turned a bit on their right after some fountain which was featuring a fox submitted by a stork, inspired by some old tale, with the fox often interpreted as Belka, which in the story succeeded in conning the stork, but ended up being beaten as their own game. Some people would see it as the fact than in the two conflict between Osea and Belka prior to the current one, Osea was initially pushed back but their economy always allow then to recover those initial losses and fight back until victory. But would they a third time?
Peace Park, Oured, Osea, 02/06/1995, 23:15, Weather: little rain.
Getting out of this park they had gone through by unconventional mean, and at the cost of some pain for the wounded Erusean had taken them little than ten minutes. Maybe Delacre had forgotten it was three kilometers long, and thus it would take so many times to go through it, given that the topology of this place with the sloped ways punctured with little set of stairs had decreased their speed dramatically. Still, it would decrease the speed of their pursuers too. As such, when he finally ended up at the Southern door of the Park, the pursuing APC was at least two hundred meters behind them, when he only had to cross the street. To a building that he was recognizing quite easily, having visited it two weeks ago.
Maybe the inhabitants of this building were waiting for them, or they would have figured where fleeing journalist would head to, if pursued by Oseans in the heart of Osea. Because the metallic fence, was slightly open, enough for his car to enter, he thought. However, he wasn't the only one to recognize the medieval-castle-like building, with his four medieval tower and inner court with one tower featuring the flag of his countries' current enemy.
"You brought us to the Belkan embassy?" Eugene realized, knowing very well that Osean weren't welcome there. Maybe they could make an exception for a fleeing Osean journalist pursued by Oseans, he thought on a side note, as the car was already crossing the street.
"Yeah, I do. Let's hope Frau Reutner is still friendly with the Ustians." He said, as he was already slowing down to stop just after the high metallic fence.
But the APC had gained ground while he was crossing the road cautiously. And as such, when they entered, with the APC right behind them, they were afraid that Osean would finally catch up with them. Yet they did not know all the secrets of this embassy. They had only crossed the fence that a set of hydraulic pistons were sticking out of the concrete, having been concealed under a simple pavement. As such, the front of the APC was raised like it was nothing with a great metallic crumpling noise, stopping the armored truck in an oblique posture. However, the front of the APC was still a bit above the soil of the Belkan embassy. Another set of pistons was set in motion, destroying the sidewalk in front of the metallic fence, but making this time the APC in a near vertical stance, almost oscillating on his back.
After this little show of technical ingenuity, the metallic fence was closed once again, and some Belkan guards began coming out of the building and taking the fugitive in the inside, not minding that much that one of them was an Osean for once. One of them had come with a halberd, which was surely not a common weapon to use against APCs, and belonged more to a museum than an embassy, stepped toward the stuck armored Osean vehicle. Then, using the head of his halberd, he pushed the unstable APC, making it fall flat on its ceiling, while saying with a somewhat rejoiced voice:
"Du kannst nicht vorbei! Betreten Verboten. (you shall not pass, No trespassing)!"
Rendered fully unstable, the APC fall hard on its ceiling, surely hurting a bit the soldiers it was carrying. If they were not that harmed, they were indeed disoriented, as the ones that got out of it walk like they were drunk or something. Many cursed at this Belkan soldier, which was almost rejoiced to see the chaos outside, in the heart of Osea.
Belkan embassy, Oured, Osea, 02/06/1995, 23:20, Weather: little rain.
Eugene had been quite surprised to enter in the three meters-high hard oak double doors, reinforced with rows of nails that made the entrance look very aggressive. He then crossed the court and enter in the building by a modern glass door, which contrast heavily with the medieval-like front door. Some red carpet was welcoming him over the soil made of white marble. On the white walls were hanged old portrait of defunct Belkan knights, politicians or other Belkans he didn't know, while some featured tapestries depicting medieval scene like chases or battlefields. They weren't that realistic, exaggerating the size of some characters, to show their greatness or their importance in those depicted battles.
Then the soldiers escorting them stopped before a painted wooden door that indicated "AN's Vetretersbüro" (AN's representative' office). He wished he was with some translators, because he couldn't understand those two words. But he was sure Delacre did, because Ustians and Belkans had a lot more history in common than Oseans, and especially the Oseans born into the Oured district like he was. And what foster this idea was the fact that Delacre entered immediately when they heard from the other side of the door:
"Kommt herein" The voice said. He had already heard that Belkan-sounding voice, when she was mocking their representative at the AN.
"It's come in, mister Eugene Senior." The same voice explained, and he followed Delacre in the doorway. The room was a round one, being situated at the bottom of one of the four towers. A woman was sat behind an old-looking wood office with a polished marble surface, with two old armchairs waiting for them apparently. Behind the woman was a great fireplace decorated with a shield depicting a double-headed Belkan eagle. Of course, the fireplace was off, since the weather was warm enough.
"It's quite rare for an Osean to enter in this place." He said as his eyes wandered a bit, trying to look a bit at the outside from the only windows of the room. There was a lot of blue lights outside of the place, meaning that only international laws were ensuring their relative safety.
"Your Erusean colleague is being stabilized as we speak, and his days should not be in danger. Momentarily of course." She ensured them, as the two journalists were finally in the armchairs facing her. Delacre seemed to be way more at ease than the Osean. Maybe the Osean was fearing his family could suffer retaliation or his colleagues.
"What are we going to become? I cannot stay in here forever. I mean, the place is nice, but..." Eugene began to point out, still a bit unphased of being in the lair of his countries' greatest enemy.
"You will both wait here for some days until the situation is eased. I will not trade people with Oseans." She tried to reassure the slightly nervous Osean. Yet her determination and the strength she had already shown during her verbal joust with Wilson were playing a bit in their favor for now.
"I guess you're offering us political asylum?" Delacre asserted, quite sure they were more precious to Osea than anything right now. Because they had seen its power failed. They would have shared a weakened image of Osea if they had had the opportunity to share this news.
"Indeed, even Osea is respecting the international laws. Because they cannot allow themselves to jeopardize diese geheimnisse Vertrag mit Sudden Usea!" Reutner explained to them why Osea wanted to have a clean war, even if it was not the case since yesterday, when they had revoked this unilateral non-aggression treaty.
"I did not know the Osean were planning such a treaty with the Southern Usean states." Delacre advocated, caught off guard by this sudden revelation, and thus translating to Eugene what Reutner just said seconds ago.
"I did not know either. Any other big scoop you're keeping in secrecy?" Eugene wanted to know if he could at least learn anything from his sojourn here.
"Oh, es wird... Sorry there will be a big one soon. Therefore, you'll both accompany me at the AN tomorrow. Be ready for some big revelation." She teased both journalist like some teenagers revealing a teacher would be missing tomorrow. "Have a good night, gentlemen, this meeting is over." She left them caught off guard even more, while some Belkan in Feld Grau fatigues escorted them to some rustic chambers. As they left, they heard her having very unkind talks with the Osean authorities. And they were now wondering how she would manage to make them enter into the Assembly of Nations' building.
On the way they were informed of the good state of all the other journalist, which had received similar introductions speeches, but in their relative language, by the interprets of the embassy. And now all of them were sharing the same question: what would those revelations be? Another Wunderwaffen? No, this wouldn't be surprising by now. The surprise would only be far greater than all they had foreseen until now. The war was going to take an unexpected turn that had not been foreseen by anyone, except a few persons, with Ursula Reutner being one of them.
Assembly of Nation, Oured, Osea, 3/06/1995, 15:00, Weather: medium cloud coverage.
The morning had been quite busy for all the journalist. To be honest it had been busy for all the people inside the Belkan embassy. They couldn't move out of it at first, since the Belkan soil was only inside of the embassy, not on the sidewalk were APCs and Osean police cars were removing any possibility of getting out of it, having blocked the whole building, giving to their journalist the reason that Belka had welcomed in there a dangerous Ustian terrorist, which was just a journalist that misunderstood the consigns of the resistance member when he told him to go have a self-defense weapon. A short conversation with Brønsted cleared this issue:
"Herr chemist, you said you gave me a paralyzing agent. Not some aqua regalis!" Delacre had almost shouted at the resistance cell leader, feeling a bit guilty to have use such harmful weapon on an Osean soldier. Yet the intentions of that soldier were not good at all, so he was not that much guilty.
"I think you misunderstood area C-33 with area Z-33. Those two letters are a bit similar in this language, maybe if the resistant had said them in Belkan you wouldn't have had this issue. But in the end, it was efficient, isn't it?" Brønsted managed to steer the talk in another direction, not wanting to be hold responsible of this incident that was Osea's doings in the first place.
"I think his face was almost melt by the acid. A bit like Two-Face, but he will be a No-Face." Delacre tried to have some fun of the Osean's demise to ease up the guilt.
"There I recognize the radio journalist that make me laugh when listening to you." Brønsted then smirked with a mad scientist voice before wishing with a more serious voice: "Good luck in Oured, you'll need it."
But right now, they weren't the unluckiest. The unluckiest one here was the Nordennavikian representative, who five minutes ago had taken the full brunt of the tantrum the Osean representative throw at him, after discovering they had let the Belkan enter in the Assembly of Nation. The territory around it was international ground and was often watched over by neutral countries uninvolved in conflicts. Nordennavik had been chosen two years ago to ensure the safety of this place, having a long history of undeniable neutrality. And now obviously the Osean representative Wilson was regretting this choice.
"You helped them get in! You allow terrorist acting against Osea to move freely on Osean ground!" Wilson shouted at the Nordennavikian representative, who was flanked by two high-ranking officers, captains of the Nordennavikian Royal Guard that were ensuring the safety of this international territory. They were in elegant royal blue uniforms with a white tie and some national distinctions, while the representative was in an ultramarine and blue-grey tuxedo with a tie reminding of the ice cap's color. Their tanned skin characteristic of their origin below the polar circle was giving then a bit of contrast with their ties and shirt sleeves. And they didn't move that much when the Osean shouted at them. They were growing in a cold country after all, and they were known to be able to stay as cold as the ice they saw almost more often than someone serving at Valais Air Base.
"You know the rules, mister Wilson. National police forces have no authority here. If they want to arrest someone, you need an international warrant." The Nordennavikian representative, a man named Kanuk Grendel respond with the notorious calm and patience of his compatriots. He was almost enjoying the spectacle of this infuriated Osean while he was standing in front of him, with arm crossed, and the fact that he was one head above him, which allow him to give him a thousand-yard stare with ease.
"You should have made your soldiers watch your sewers network better, Mr. Wilson." One of the two captain spoke with irony filling his voice, having been informed of how the Belkans managed to get here despite the tight police grid the Osean force had established all around the Belkan embassy. It was quite funny, the captain admitted it. But he knew he would laugh about that in due time, not now.
"There's a proverb in our country: when watching your prey, never look at one breathing hole only. Or the otter you're hunting will just breath elsewhere and you'll lose it." The second captain quoted this ancestral proverb, dating from the era in which his people were surviving by hunting otters and living in Igloos.
"That doesn't matter. You're allowing the presence of enemies of the Osean Federation!" Wilson shouted once again, losing his nerves while the three Nordennavikians maintained a neutral smile on their faces.
"It's enough. I agree they committed some offenses against your forces, but from what I've heard from them, self-defense can be claimed." The Nordennavikian retorted while uncrossing his arms in a negative gesture, the Osean beginning to reach the limits of the legendary Nordennavikian coldness.
"Self-defense? They harmed an officer using chemical weaponry!" Wilson ranted, fed up by this overzealous neutrality demonstrated by those Annean people.
"The officer was threatening to shoot them down and the journalist was thinking the gas canister he used contained a paralyzing agent. You know, mislabeling can occur." Grendel ended the talk, taking profit of his greater size to denigrate the Osean representative by not looking at him at all. Then, as he understood the talk wouldn't go anywhere, he left for the Assembly of Nation's building, leaving a still angered Osean behind him. Of course, the fact that he chose to fully ignore him rather than getting in his game was only infuriating this Osean even more. And when he was about to enter, he still heard the Osean cursing at them:
"Damn Northern people with their neutrality. They should go back to their igloos." he referred to the idea many Osean had made of the Nordennavikian people at the beginning of this century: almost uncivilized people living in those ice houses. But right now, they had become a local power, with the discovery of natural resources accessible due to the ice cap melting a bit more since the beginning of the century. Furthermore, they had good icebreaker and hovercraft fleets, allowing them to trade with a good number of countries and fasten the transportation of some goods by going through or above the arctic polar ocean.
Assembly of Nation, Oured, Osea, 3/06/1995, 15:15, Weather: medium cloud coverage.
Wilson had spent a bit of time outside, trying every legal branch and any ways to shunt the neutrality of the Assembly of Nation's territory. But unfortunately, every tries was unsuccessful, or couldn't be successful: if they issued international warrant, they would have to admit that the Osean army, on its own and without the approbation of the Defense Secretary, had tried to encroach on the press' liberty. And with them always shouting at the Belkan they were the land of freedom; it would almost make Ursula Reutner die from laugh. Of course, invading this neutral international territory with military forces would be out of question either, this would only result in the failure of the negotiation with the Southern Usean States, which had already been stalled by the EMP disaster. After all it was a military, industrial and commercial alliance, and those Usean States would not want an alliance with a country having lost half of its industrial power and with a great decrease in military strength. Still, they could still jeopardize their economy through their traders to force them to sign, with hidden provisions in this treaty. It would create another Mt Schirm case, but Osea wasn't at its first in matter of ruining the economy of other local powers to rule them through corrupt official and officers without having to invade anybody. This was the best way to act, Wilson thought. This little inner brainstorming had diminished his anger. But the people he saw as he sat on his siege of representative of the Osean Federation made his anger rose to the same level as before.
" So, Fraulein Reutner, what is this little scoop you promised us the exclusivity?" Eugene asked, still a bit uneasy after the walk in the sewers of Oured, which were not perfumed with Erusean roses to be honest.
" They are a bit late, I must admit. But don't worry, it will arrive soon. They just want to have everyone here. Especially Mr. Wilson." The Belkan representative said calmly, while looking on her cell phone with a bit of impatience. A small message had just arrived. Its content was the following: "IST ER DORT?" (is he here?). Reutner knew they were talking of Wilson. They couldn't miss this golden opportunity to humiliate the Osean once more.
" Speaking of the devil, he's here, Signora Reutner." The Sapin journalist of La Polémica pointed out, having noticed the angered Osean quite easily, as he almost run into some representative on his way to his seat.
" Then let's send the invitation to the party crasher for Osea, should we?" Reutner asserted happily, typing hastily two letters on her small cell phone " JA". The Osean had sown the wind, and now they would reap the storm.
Nearly all people were sat on their chair, ready for the session of today. Some were wondering how it would go. Would it be another clash between Osea and Belkan with the involved countries counting the scores? Or would they talk about some other important subject for the uninvolved countries: Ulysses? Because, to be fair, many of the uninvolved countries were threatened by the fragment's courses. And if they impacted while both Osea and their allies and Belka had self-destructed in this stupid war, their world would enter the third millenary as a field of ruins, and with humankind threatened and divided even more, instead of a hopeful humanity looking forward to the future.
It was a certainty no representatives nor any journalists were ready to this event. Two minutes and twenty seconds after Ursula Reutner's response to this unknown identified as "AB", the huge white screen used to display data was unrolled without anyone ordering it to. And it stayed in this posture, despite the efforts of the IT team to try rolling it back. This surprised a bit the representatives, but not that much: electronics were submitted to a great number of issues since the EMP disaster. Yet some began to ask what was going on. Then, the light blue light came to life, indicating the projector was getting ready to display something. But no one had activated anything. And with the projector being attached to the ceiling of the main room of the Assembly of Nation, which said room was six meters high, it was a bit difficult to access its off switch. Furthermore, they had bought a battery-equipped tropicalized model that was meant to be a bit more EMP-resilient than the precedent, and as such, unplugging it would change nothing.
For some second, it showed the logo of the Assembly of nation, a polar projection of their world in white on a light blue, with laurel leaves surrounding it. But it began to scramble, like if the signal was jammed. Or if the signal was being hacked right now. For some seconds, the picture was even more shaken, becoming blurry and unrecognizable, while a high pitch buzzing sound was heard. One of the more worried one was Wilson: he was sure this was Belka's doing. But they were not doing that just to show they informatic prowess.
One whole minute after the projector had almost come to life on its own, the picture it was displaying finally unblurred, thus becoming visible to all representatives in the room. It was depicting a round shape, and in this round, was the symbol of what was causing the allied frontlines to be stalled since the half of May, and in gold on a black background instead of white on blue. The lower half of the disc was featuring the hemicylindrical lower half of Excalibur, while the upper half had this cross of Sainte Victoire shape, with the double cross having an upper shorter guard and a lower longer one. Coming the center and going rightward, a small Berkut could be seen, and going leftward, the other forward-swept wing plane Belka had unveiled in this war : the ADFX-01 Morgan, which many people outside of Belka still only knew as the "Wesson-UFO's", since Kupchenko had made no concrete announcement of his name to the press who had spread this other name in the world since the first sight of it in March over the Osean city. And in the outline of the circle, the words "PENDRAGON PROJEKT" was written in old gothic-like letters. Then a voice was heard, and when it was speaking, it caused small lines to come out of the circle, varying with the intensity in length and orientation of which line would appear.
" Greetings, esteemed members of the Assembly of Nation. I can guess you have all seen the SOLG plunging into the Oured Bay last night." A voice with a surprising Osean accent spoke, instead of a more Belkan-sounding or Yukte-sounding voice that Kupchenko possessed, and that people were expecting right now. This left Wilson uneasy and satisfied in the same time : if they weren't hearing Kupchenko, it could mean that this Ustian merc had succeeded in her assassination attempt, but in the same time, having to admit that Osean aces had rallied Kupchenko's side would be a bad publicity for the allied forces.
" Can you define this abbreviation? I have never heard of it" The Erusean representative asked, eager to learn what had caused two of his compatriots to have great troubles with the Osean military, with one still wounded. From what the Belkan representative had said, he was recovering, but he wanted reasons, and a good portion of the Erusean population wanted reasons too.
" SOLG is for Strategic Orbital Linear Gun. An Osean weapon platform who WAS in geosynchronous orbit and armed with nuclear armament." The Osean-sounding voice responded, emphasizing greatly the preterit of these verbs, wanting to signify clearly this weapon platform was a thing of the past. But what struck most of the representative was the fact that Osea used nuclear weapon in space. Such things had been forbidden since the 1980's, to ensure nuclear fallout could never happened in case of collision and hereby cause incidents such as the EMP disaster.
" Henceforth I accuse Osea of lying to the entire world by not respecting the Nuclear non-proliferation treaty of 1979, which they had ratified and passed as a law." The Osean-voice was sterner in this assertion as he was speaking against his own nation he had ceased to believe in since half a decade by now.
" This is outrageous! I will not let some deserters dictate our conduct." Wilson bellowed at the screen, wondering who could ever betray Osea in favor of Belka. This wasn't making sense to him, but most of his behavior was nonsensical from some point of view.
" Ha, your little game is finally revealed, Osean. The world will know your lies. They will see through the Osean lies!" A very happy Belkan representative pointed a threatening finger at the Osean who was starting to lose his temper.
" I haven't called here to hear you ranting, Wilson." The unknown interlocutor cut the Osean short, as he was throwing some more insult at the Belkan representative. Some electronic noise was heard, and the mike of Wilson went off, causing him not to be heard any more by a great percentage of the representatives.
" But to show you that Osea has no superiority in any way, even in the so-called moral high ground they wanted you to believe they possess some. The truth is, they don't!" He clarified his thought, showing to the AN Osea had only the financial superiority over Belka.
" Thanks for showing those interesting facts, but why do you need to announce them in the Assembly of Nation?" The representative of Emmeria inquired why they were acting in such a way, since in comparison the explanation of the EMP disaster had been publicized through dead drops to journalists.
" I have more things to say than just this." He gave a bit of a cryptic answer before another electronic noise was heard, and the picture displayed changed a bit : the circle was put in some corner of the screen, while a dynamic view of the solar system featuring the four terrestrial planets, and the Ulysses fragment that had come close to the orbit of Mars by now. They were supposed to hit the Earth by the year 1999.
" Some pilot who went against us said we had the power to shield Belka from those fragments when they would fall on the world. Or even to deflect them on our enemies." He quoted this Ustian merc he thought was dead for a time, but he wasn't so sure in this very moment.
" But I think we have the power to protect mankind from extinction. To use the Sword of the Kings not only for Annihilation, but for Salvation " He announced what would change this war they were fighting, and the world they were fighting in for centuries.
" I won't say it's a bad thing." The representative of the Islands of Prefanesia, a small nation at the extreme South-East of the Usean continent began to spoke, finding that those Belkan warmongers were finally getting some sense. " But do your Rald leaders know about this decision?" He pursued, a bit surprised that a far-right party would authorize such an act, which would surely help Belka gain the favors of some Usean and Annean countries but was not Belkan-like. Sure, this was an act that would fill them with pride, but it seemed not very conform to the ideas of the Rald Partei which was very Belka-centric and would not do such acts. The Rald leaders would more likely use Excalibur to deflect the asteroids on Osea and Yuktobania, trying to make Belka the only power left of this world. Yet they would only have a world of cinders to rule. And since the Ulysses fall could cause some nuclear-winter-like scenario, this wasn't something to do for anyone playing in the long run.
" You're right to ask me that. Thus, I can announce the secession of South Belka officially. The Lander of Blumenberg has joined the Lander of Tauberg in this decision. I hope our other Belkan Kameraden in the Eastern cities will realize on which side they wanted to be." The Osean-sounding voice announced the fracture of Belka's unity. Once more, Belka was divided. This stunning news, coupled to the astonishment of most of the countries threatened by Ulysses to know they had a chance of salvation, resulted in some seconds of silence.
" Can we get a name for the articles?" Delacre asked, breaking the silence, using the mic of the Belkan representative, hoping that after these great announcements the anonymity would fall.
" My name itself does not matter. But you can have it. I'm Andrew Berry, former captain of the Osean Shadow Eagle squad, and now Gault 4." The voice let down his mask but kept the logo of the Pendragon Projekt on the screen.
" What does the Belkan representative have to say about that? About this betrayal of this man who had already betrayed his motherland?" Wilson inquired with an ever more angered voice, having pulled a small battery-powered speaker from his breast pocket, as his formal one was out of commission for an unknown reason. If those Belkans could hack the projector, why couldn't they hack anything in this room?
" I never said I wasn't supporting them. From now on I'm not the representative of the Principality of Belka, but of the seceding territories. A wise man once said you need to learn to betray your country to save it." She announced her approval of the secession to the Assembly of Nation, knowing the Outside affairs Belkan minister would revoke her on the spot, but they would not be able to send their agents to force her out of the embassy when in war with the country in which the embassy was in.
" I'm glad to hear this news. The Confederation of South Belka is opened to any negotiation with the Allied Forces, including Osea or not." Berry congratulated the representative of having the bravery to betray her motherland like he did five years ago.
" Yuktobania won't differ from the Osean Federation. We accept nothing but unconditional surrender." The Yukte representative took over in order to replace Wilson, as the Osean credibility had died down since the reveal of them using nukes in space a bit sooner.
" I could say the same, representative Tsanev. We won't lay our weapon until the CSB is at peace with its neighbors. Even if we have to enforce it." Gault 4 stated with a rigid tone, showing no fear of having to fight the Rald Partei-led North Belka and the allied forces altogether.
" We will fight in the air, in the lands. We will fight above the mountains and above the lakes. We will fight to protect our people. And you will only have the spread blood of yours as a consolation." He ended up this unofficial broadcast, going a bit philosophical in the end. Andrew knew they had to act quickly if they wanted to keep fighting. The complex around Excalibur and in Blumenberg had a bit of industrial power, but not as much as the ones of Hoffnung. And Excalibur wouldn't be able to defend Hoffnung from all side, especially if the North attacked them too.
Would they managed to displace those industries would be vital. Yet already a good fourth of the civilian of Hoffnung had already left, either for Sudentor, the south Belka or the North.
Still Kupchenko had always had good relationship with the ZHW (Hoffnung Hoch Wirtschaft), the cutting-edge industry group that had helped greatly in the Pendragon Projekt. They could have hope that this industry transfer would succeed.
Belka had known its second secession of the decade today. First Ustio in 1988, and now, seven years later South Belka was willing to obtain independence. Those secessionists were officially alone, no country wanted to attract to themselves the ire of Osea by backing up this soon-to-be-born country that was possessing Excalibur, the Wunderwaffen having caused so many defeats to Osea on its soil.
But who could not show a bit of sympathy toward those people who commit to help them fend off the Armageddon coming from space? Many Northern Usean countries, including of course Erusea, which had always complicated relationship with the Oseans despite this country having helped put an end to their civil war in the eighteenth century, would surely try to help this nascent Belkan State informally. They weren't the only one they had gained sympathy from: the three Annean nations, the two constitutional monarchy that Nordennavik and Emmeria were, and the Federal Republic of Estovakia. Those three countries were even more threatened than the Usean ones, as they lacked the great amount of resources the FCU, Amber and Erusea could invest in Stonehenge, leaving the Annean continent pretty much defenseless against the Ulysses.
And finally, following last calculation, South Osea was threatened too. As such, it was understandable that countries such as Aurelia, San Martin or Leasath would show a sympathy to those people having concern outside this war. This would maybe cause the Leasathian contractor to doubt about who to support, and their delivery could turn the tide in some way or another if they kept doing them or not. Aurelia on the other hand had a more specific relationship with Belkan peoples, since some battles in their civil war of 1982 had been won for the republicans thanks to the strength of Belkan mercs. They had shown to this people of sailors due to their large seaside relative to the surface of their country that Belkans could fight for some worthy causes sometimes and not just for wealth and pride. In the memorial near the in-building Gayus Tower the names of some Belkan fighter pilots that had chosen to fight even in dire conditions and even die for this republic to live had been added, a rare fact for mercenaries fallen in battle. The few that settle there after this tremendous war were surely trying their best to convince the Aurelian to back a bit these Belkan separatist, even if it was just by refusing to send supplies of raw materials, even if it would be at the risk of causing joblessness.
Mausoleum Bunker, Schayne Plains, Belka, 03/06/1995, 21:00, Weather: light cloud coverage
But two people who hadn't listen to this broadcast because they had no radio outside the ones onboard a Berkut, and the few other planes there were in the bunker they were hiding in, at least could see something, and maybe get a glimpse at what was happening.
They had a rough day, refitting the Su-47 Kupchenko almost left to rust here was a hard task, including many electronics that were a bit unknown for the both. Sure, they had both studied warplanes maintenance in their respective studies. Yet Kellerman had done his studies decade ago when plane like F-104 Starfighters were still used and Iskanda had few chances that hers covered how to maintain a craft that was for now only produced in Belka, with Osea having applied all their financial and political might to prevent Belka to gain anybody from selling their high-tech planes to foreign nations. And since most of Belka was surrounded by Osea or its allied, it was not that hard. Still, the North Sea was opened and through the Northern countries of Wellow and Nordennavik they could sell their technology under false names and shell companies.
Still, they were almost sure it would fly. Belkan Qualität was known to be quite durable and being able to endure much more punishment than other country would produce. After all, Pixy's Eagle had survived losing a wing four times. That alone could atone for the durability of the Belkan aircraft. And Kupchenko was surely quite meticulous with his plane, so it had been surely well maintained before it was left here as souvenirs of a previous life.
As such, they were a bit stargazing, with Kellerman having seen during the last evening there were some farms not very far, at the border of the forest surrounding this compound. Maybe he could go there to find some other means of subsistence than the survival rations and the meat Iskanda had hunted alongside the little wolfpack two days ago. It was fine to survive, but not a very well-balanced regime, and he knew it was bad to try to fight without being fed correctly.
He would act while Iskanda would be out there flying the Berkut, he was speaking better Belkan than her, it would be better to speak with the local farmer than had a pretty strong accent. He did recognize she had some level of Belkan, which came from having studied a bit in high school when she was in Farbanti, and above all having had a Belkan instructor that had come with some Belkan mechanics when leaving Belka. As such, Kellerman tried to make her speak Belkan most of the time here. If she ran into a Belkan squadron, she could try to talk her way and convinced them in some way that she's not their enemy or anything she wanted to try to negotiate. What she would do after having taken off with the Berkut of Kupchenko, where she would go to battle and for whom did not matter to him a single bit. What matters what that she would survive, and maybe be victorious. To increase her survival rate, he insisted that she remove the SAAMs in favor of something more explosive they had in the arsenal of the Mausoleum. He hoped it would fit her fighting style well, thinking to those static FAEBs she described. It was surely something he would have not thought to use. The new generation was taking the skies from the old. It was the order of things after all.
" In welche Richtung feuert Excalibur jetzt (in which direction is Excalibur firing now)?" She asked, forcing herself to put some tonic accent into her Belkan, to make it sound less foreign to a Belkan ear.
"Tut mir leid, dass ich ihnen nicht mehr sagen kann. In Richtung Weltraums werde ich sagen. (I'm afraid I cannot say much about it. Toward space I would say.)" Kellerman admitted he wasn't someone who could claim to understand what was going through the mind of those two people in charge of Excalibur. Kupchenko was a strategist, always ten steps ahead of everyone. And Hellenseite, he didn't know him close enough to deduce anything about his way of thinking.
Still, the blast were as strong as when they were firing at that Osean space platform, turning the light indigo or turquoise blue light that would usually form the Helligen Kolumne into a bright white flash, with the Sword of King producing Swords of lights that were cutting through the darkness of the night. And those bright flashes were powerful enough to make even the full moon look pale in comparison. They were not doing strikes toward the ground. That kind of shot would be too powerful to be reflected.
" Was denn? In Richtung einer Oseaner Stern Zerstörer vielleicht? (so what? Toward an Osea Star Destroyer?)" She emitted just a crazy theory, since how such weapon could be using such level of power was far beyond her understanding.
"Ich dachte du hat gedacht Belka hat ein Todesstern (I thought you were thinking Belka had a Death Star)? Aber nicht, Osea hat keines solches. (but no, Osea has no such thing)" He refuted such a foolish theory. He knew that there was very few chances Osea had developed something powerful enough to counter the Pendragon Projekt. Or if they had, it must have been vaporized in a thousand pieces by now.
"Ach, ich lache. Aber wenn die Luft so hell wird, bedeutet es sie feuern viel weiter als meiste Zeit. (Yeah, I'm laughing. But if the air becomes so bright it must mean they're firing further away than usually.) " She tried to sum up her thought, which was not very easy in a foreign language she rarely spoke since she arrived in Ustio. She used what she had remembered to understand the Belkan aces or send them invectives and had lost a bit how to do long lasting talks in this language.
"Es stimmt. Aber das hilft uns kaum, all das zu verstehen. (It's right. Yet it is not helping to understand all of this us a single bit)." Kellerman ended the talk, having not succeeded a single bit in understanding the usefulness of firing Excalibur in such a way.
They saw four other shots that evening, but quite spaced in time. Usually Excalibur would fire in rapid succession to fend off saturation attacks, not aiming at a target at one time. To her who had witnessed its fire from up close, it was making no sense. And to him who could not understand Kupchenko since he never was his instructor but only a friend who rarely dueled him, he was not understanding the purpose of such shots fired toward deep space either. And the next day, they saw some other shots, even more spaced in time, but still very energetic ones.
Unbeknownst to them, Excalibur was striking at fragment of Ulysses at a few light minutes of the earth, thus requiring this kind of power. They were of course not as precise as against Osean planes, but some parts were slowly changing their course, due to the energy transmitted influencing their kinetic energy and thus their trajectory. Maybe Earth had a chance of surviving the Armageddon some were professing…
End of chapter. When writing the fall of the SOLG on these ships, I thought to the scene of the shot from the Starkiller base, with the beam of light/plasma tearing through the planet in SW7. Instead, the frightened are the Oseans onboard their carrier... Well, I guess this one was a bit political, even if I try to put a bit of an action scene, with this little chase. Of course, the "you shall not pass" is a bit obvious here.
And now, this is my big change to cannon... Excalibur being used for SALVATION (I guess captain Torres would be happy to hear that…)
Still, the war is far from over, and now it has just took another turn. The tide of the war had turned again, and the fragile balance of terror had just been shaken by this secession. Who Will still fight? Will the alliance hold despite those change in the enemy the sides will be fighting? You will see all of this in the next battle chapter…
Okay, I try to put some "suspense" here. I sincerely hope you'll like the changes to canon Strangereal, and as such feel free to review, favorize and comment…
Bis nächst mal Lesern und Leserinnen
25/01/2020: some grammatical mistakes fixed