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"Operation Ragnarok"

August 1 1935 EC

Major August Nemets

Federative Parliament, Fontainblaeu , Lotharingia Franka (Atlantic Federation)

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"This is it. Our last goal is within reach," Nemets announced, the leading officer in charge of this daring assault looking out of the plane's reach, glaring at the nightly life of their enemy's capital. "The holiest achievement is upon us. I hope you made your prayers for our enemies, because God may be forgiving, we shall not."

Everyone stood up and took position as the red light announcing 'preparation' had started to flicker.

"We are going to make it, we are going to bring glory-"

"To Hertling!" One of the officers announced, many more nodding as some looked nervous.

The Major held a grimace. He couldn't blame them. As much as he wanted to praise the emperor, recent times had proved it to many that the emperor was not worthy. And that their current leader had greater guts and mind than the old man rotting in the Imperial Capital as they bled on the front.

"To Hertling." He ultimately confirmed, aware that this was the truth.

Hertling had been there, giving them hope and giving them direction- not just him, the staff he created made by those that really cared. It didn't matter if it was a Darcsen, a Noble, a Valkyrie that stood beside them... to them, it was a matter of being great together! And that their glorious chore was now there for them to claim upon the most immense glory available to soldiers of today.

Readying their chutes, the soldiers were ready for this last grand battle. No one shared even so a small hint of fright- this was it, this was where their monumental efforts would culminate in victory. It was time to be in the very list of glorious heroes that once was so grand in the past.

"We are not going to face major resistance from regular troops," Nemets announced, glancing at the light as it turned green. "But the bastards that have craved for blood will throw everything at us to not die by our guns. Let us show them what we are made of."

The fierceness was doubled by these words, and the entire brigade was soon launching upon the sleepy capital. Alarms were activated, but the deployment of such a large detachment made any defense impossible. The airborne force was divided in two group: Group A, led by Major Jodl, was to secure all entrances and set small squads to look into secret ways out of the city; Group B, led by Nemets, was to storm the major buildings and secure the Parliament.

Six hours- that's how long it all lasted.

Despite how little this was within the span of a full conflict, those six hours were the longest in their whole careers. Steps were measured, seconds were mustered, moments were praised as each good one of those was one without any issues. The small garrison made a tough mess trying to hold back.

Sure, it delayed the inevitable by roughly two more hours than predicted, but that was due to them using civilians. Orders from above dictated that no civilian was to be hurt or killed- an order that no one disrespected as this was a crucial operation. Any mistake both on a technical and moral standpoint was going to be elevated by the greatness of this mission.

While Jodl found some 'runners' in the process and had to split his forces to avoid any surprises in the long run, Nemets had to deal with the blunt of what the Federation had at their disposal. Members in the parliament had hired mercenaries to protect themselves from potential revolters, thus creating a small but ill-equipped group of resistance that proved to be futile in the defense due to how uncoordinated it was with the rest of the troops.

It got so bad that some tried to make 'glorious last stands' in bathrooms. Using grenates proved to be more than enough to handle these tiny pockets before they got out of control. Most of the members were secured, with a few slain for taking arms and resisting to the bitter end.

After making sure that all issues were dealt with, the chambers were 'prepared' for a 'normal' session. Bitter as some of the fierce survivors may be, none made any step to prevent what was inevitable: surrender. Some inquired on what was the order of things in case of full-on refusal.

Pointing at his gun, Nemets made the situation clear- while they were keen to save civilians, the politicians were not to be seen as such. In fact, the moment they declared unilateral refusal to this demand of surrender, they would be seen as dangerous hostiles to eliminate at all costs.

And while some may find this a viable option to a moral high ground, the ramifications of the action stopped them from taking such a path. To make it simple, the moment they all died, the Federation was headless and national governments would have to step in- thus erasing decades of hard-coded centralized rule with a few bullets.

With bitterness in their heart, shame in their mind, and terror in their thoughts as they knew what would happen with the 'alternative', the politicians caved to the demands and soon the leading members read the speech they had to prepare before the end of the day.

"-With great sadness, I have to demand for all armed forces to stand down. The War is lost, our chances of victory are no longer positive, and our stance on the continuation of this conflict has concluded- we will no longer we at war with the Empire and we shall... surrender."

There wasn't much celebration, but many members did applaud the news. Much to the chagrin of the 'majority' many of those were nationalists that, albeit bitter too for the Imperial capture, were glad that the Federation Experiment had its days numbered with this surrender. Nemets knew, however, that the war was far from over, and that it was a matter of holding the city for a few days. With the equipment they were going to receive via airdrops, this was going to be very possible.

The city was theirs, the war was close to end, and... soon, they will enjoy the fruits of their labor back in their new homes in Gallia.

AN

This is not the end as Nemets said. This is a surrender, an Armistice follows, and then the peace negotiations.