December 12th, 2014
Anea lay far in the Northern Hemisphere, right on the edge of the Arctic. The seas to the north were usually covered in ice sheets and impassable, especially during the winter months. Arctic winds often blew south over them, hitting the continent with nearly full force. Fortunately, Anea was very mountainous in the north and that shielded it from the worst.
The continent and the islands surrounding it held three countries. Closest to the Arctic, comprising the northwest corner of the continent and many of the islands further to the northwest, was the Kingdom of Nordennavic. Encompassing the west and central part of the continent, as well as a very large island off the west coast, was the Republic of Emmeria. The eastern portion of the continent, distinctive for having two southern peninsulas, and the rest of the islands out that way belonged to the last country: The Federal Republic of Estovakia. All three countries had different languages and cultures, but there was one thing they all had in common: their lands were all marred by craters large and small.
15 years ago, there'd been a disaster. An asteroid named Ulysses had entered the planet's atmosphere and shattered into tens of thousands of pieces. They'd fallen all over the world, but two continents had taken the brunt of the impacts: Usea, farther southwest, and Anea itself. All three countries had been hit, causing direct damage, flooding, and displacing over a million people across all three countries. All three had been hit, but without a doubt Estovakia was struck the most devastating blow: 8 major impacts and dozens of smaller ones. In comparison, Nordennavic had only suffered one major impact. Emmeria had only suffered minor impacts.
The disparity had shown itself quickly. Emmeria and Nordennavic both reported deaths only in the 5 digits. Only a week after impact, Estovakia was well over seven digits. The entire world economy hiccuped, but Emmeria and Nordenavvic had started to recover after two years. Estovakia still hadn't even reached half of what it was pre-impact. With entire cities flooded by tidal waves or wiped out by shockwaves that had leveled mountains, so much damage had been done that it became impossible for the unfortunate nation to pull itself out of the hole.
Its neighbors tried to help by sending aid. For a while, there was even an effort at political unification that would combine all three nations into a single continental republic that would help stabilize all of them. It was not enough. Eight years after the Ulysses impact, Estovakia collapsed into a civil war, one that had lasted a brutal seven years.
The catalyst had been an Estovakian Army General: Adam Lyes. Martial law had been declared soon after the impact and stayed in place for the years after as the civilian government slowly withered, effectively leaving only military officials in charge of chunks of the country. General Lyes took control of the country's capital, located in the west, declaring himself the country's new leader. The civilian government collapsing had left Estovakian troops in all the branches more loyal to their officers than any government, elected or declared. But this worked to Lyes favor, giving him the manpower to conquer his own country. Emmeria even recognized his claim, and began shipping all its aid to Estovakia through him. The western half of the country, including the entire Estovakia-Emmeria border, was soon under his complete control.
Gledina had been a city in central Estovakia. When General Lyes demanded it accept the will of the "legitimate government", the city's civilian population refused. In retaliation, Lye's forces blockaded the city, preventing supplies of any kind from getting inside. More than 200,000 Estovakian civilians perished in the brutal siege. The Glendina Humanitarian Crisis did what Ulysses hadn't: it shattered Estovakia into pieces.
Up until that point, only some military personnel listened to General Lye's words. Many were content to just hold onto the patches of the country they held and try their best to keep it safe and functional. But what happened in Glendina forced their hands. They were there to protect their countrymen, even if it was from each other. Military units went from disregarding Lye's orders to actively engaging any forces carrying them out. But with Emmerian supplies behind him, General Lyes had amassed a military force and territory that made him the most powerful man in the ravaged country.
To survive, other Estovakian military units began banding together. Towns and civilian militias cooperated to protect themself from suffering the same fate as Gledina. These alliances grew and grew until entire factions formed, controlling their own large sections of the country. The many islands east of the continent formed the Island Coalition and secured a few footholds on the peninsulas. The Independent Tariff Federation was essentially an alliance of port cities on the peninsulas. The Northern Highlands faction fortified itself in the valleys and hilltops of the mountainous north. General Lyes rebranded his forces the "Lyes United Front", in an attempt to pass himself off as not a conqueror, but a unifier.
And in the eastern half of the country, an Estovakian Air Force general rallied all the people and soldiers he could find to stop the LUF's march east across Estovakia, even flying in some of the first attacks against them. This Eastern Faction quickly became the second largest in the country, taking control of what was left. Though all the other factions formed to oppose the LUF, it wasn't long before they began fighting each other, not wanting to accept any outside influence. The Estovakian Civil War began in earnest, pitting all five factions against each other in all corners of the continent, starting nearly a decade of suffering.
The Eastern Faction had eventually emerged victorious. Although inferior in number to the LUF and surrounded on all sides by other factions, its tactical poweress kept it in the war, and an alliance with the Northern Highlands combined with campaigns to completely secure the eastern peninsula gave it the stability to hold back the LUF to the west and the Island Coalition to the East. The LUF conquered the Independent Tariff Federation, but constantly bloodied itself in repeated skirmishes with the Island Coalition and Eastern Faction.
In the midst of the Civil War, Emmeria finally became wise to the LUF abusing the aid being sent, and ceased all shipments. Extremely detrimental for half of Estovakia's civilian population, it was even worse for the LUF; without the aid to bolster its forces, its ability to act strategically dried up, making the tactical defeats it suffered serious.
Things weren't entirely clear to the outside world how things ended. There were rumors that the Eastern Faction had developed extremely advanced technologies to make up for its lower numbers. Whatever the case, in early 2013, the Eastern Faction began routing the LUF in a series of devastating battles. By the end of the year, the LUF and Island Coalition ceased to exist, crushed underfoot and absorbed by the Eastern Faction respectively. After close to 14 years of varying degrees of anarchy, Estovakia was united again.
A new junta of military officers took the reins as the official government, made up mostly of Eastern Faction and Northern Highland personnel. Amnesty for the members of the losing factions was handed out en masse. Only a small number of LUF soldiers refused to accept their defeat, and were still resisting the new government however they could. The Estovakian Military shifted from fighting to reconstruction efforts, and the citizens welcomed them with open arms. Finally, things were only improving.
Now, a year later, the peace was mostly being kept. The LUF remnants had scored a notable victory in assassinating the Estovakian Foreign Minister, but they hadn't forced the new government to relinquish control of any territory, and they were still being hunted down ruthlessly. The people's loyalty was still firmly with the new junta, and progress was being made.
The same couldn't be said internationally. Although the aid was flowing again, including from Emmeria, not one single country had officially recognized the new government or reopened their embassies. Barely any international businesses had come back with badly needed investments either, and the economy was hardly better than before the Civil War. The Estovakian people believed the war was over, but the rest of the world wasn't at the same mindspace yet.
If they actually paid attention, they might have realized another was brewing. The new Estovakian government hadn't forgotten that Emmeria had funded the LUF. Far from it, in fact. Even though it accepted Emmerian aid, it repeatedly called their neighbor to apologize and publicly acknowledge their wrongs. But Emmeria refused to do so, and Estovakia's anger was becoming more and more apparent.
But no one in Emmeria or even the parts of the world paying attention expected anything to come of these outbursts. The Estovakian Civil War had just ended. It was impossible for another to start so soon.
Estovakia-Emmerian Border
The border stretched for almost 400km at the narrowest point in the continent. It ran mostly north to south, although it pivoted west near the center before continuing up to the northern coastline. The entire length was fortified on each side with high walls of concrete, miles of barbed wire fencing, and even steeply deep ditches. The Emmerian side had been fortified first, a measure to contain the chaos enveloping their neighbor from crossing over. Most of what was on the Estovakian side had been built in the last year, purportedly to stop smuggling. No matter who built them, they were tall enough that the bright glow of christmas colors on the Emmerian side had a hard time reaching the comparatively darker Estovakian side.
The Civil War had ended here on the border. After years of the stalemate with the Eastern Faction, General Lyes had staked everything on a massive offensive designed to break his biggest enemy and cement his control. But the offensive had come apart in bloody ruin almost as soon as it was launched. Most LUF territory, amounting to nearly half the country, fell to the counter-attacking Eastern Faction in just a week. The lines only stabilized once they were pinned against the border and the Eastern Faction had overextended itself. From there, the war was a foregone conclusion, but the LUF had stubbornly hung on for another eight months until they were finally crushed. That last brutal battle had left a wasteland in its wake.
Despite that, the western portion of the country was in remarkably good shape. Being so close to the Emmerian border, most of the international and Emmerian aid reached here first. Many people had sturdy houses to ride out the winter. There were moderately equipped hospitals. A lot of houses even had the lights on, plain as they may be compared to their festive neighbors.
The destitution showed itself in other ways. There were houses, but there were hardly any stores or factories; the people had shelter, but no work and nowhere to buy things. Nearly half the country couldn't work. Civilians wrapped up mostly in donated winter clothing, employed or otherwise, were waiting in long lines even into the dark evening to receive packages of food or medicine from Estovakian soldiers to take home. More Estovakian soldiers dressed in warm clothes, but not much protective gear patrolled the streets and stood guard at intersections. Even more stood over chain gangs made up of former LUF members, watching, prodding, and often abusing the prisoners as they cleaned up rubble or worked on other projects that were very slowly restoring Estovakia.
At one of the border crossings, a convoy of five box trucks marked with the logo of an international charity crossed the border and stopped before a second gate, under the glow of numerous spotlights and streetlamps. Groups of Estovakian soldiers came out from the nearby buildings to inspect them. Others positioned themselves on the outskirts of the crossing looking into the interior; aid convoys were juicy targets for LUF remnants and other insurgent groups, enough to even risk attacking a border crossing. An Estovakian Army captain went up to the lead truck.
"Good evening!" The man in the driver seat spoke the language perfectly, although his Emmerian accent was hard to ignore. There were aid workers from all over the world in Estovakia, but Emmerian and Nordennavic workers were still the most common.
"Good evening." The captain nodded. "Paperwork?" The driver turned and talked to his passenger who, judging by his accent, wasn't Emmerian. The captain thought it might be Osean-he'd gotten fairly good at identifying accents in this post. He got the documents a moment later. "Toys?" He read the manifest.
"For Christmas. We had a big toy drive in Gracemeria last week. Kids don't want other kids to not have a Christmas."
"They are the best of our countries." The captain smiled. He walked back to each squad checking in and under the trucks. Nothing obvious was amiss and nothing gave them any indication they should conduct a more thorough search. After seven minutes, the captain cleared them to go further into the country.
A while later, a very long line of headlights started coming towards them from their own side. The captain ordered all the gates on their side of the border opened. A military convoy of Humvees, trucks, and a few APCs rolled up and was waved through without needing the stop. A flag fluttered from the lead vehicle. It wasn't the bright red Estovakian flag, but the blue and white Emmerian flag.
It was an Emmerian Army convoy, part of the Reconstruction Assistance Force that had been deployed to Estovakia only earlier this year. Insisting on Estovakian sovereignty, the Generals had made a deadline of December 31st for all Emmerian forces to leave the country, telling their western neighbor the country didn't need their direct involvement and that any aid should be sent through international groups. Emmeria had done just that and started pulling out in early November. This was likely one of if not the last convoys leaving the country.
None of the soldiers guarding the border were sad to see them go, even if a lot of civilians might be. All of them had fought against the LUF, regardless of faction, and all of them knew that Emmeria had practically bankrolled that enemy. As far as they were concerned, every bullet, bomb, or missile that had killed their comrades, friends, or even family was paid for by Emmeria. That wasn't the whole truth, but there was enough to it that no one, except maybe the Emmerians themselves, blamed them for believing it.
A humvee in the line was stopped right near the captain. An Emmerian soldier was standing out of the turret hatch, manning the .50 caliber machine gun mounted there. Insurgents and LUF remnants had targeted them too. Unlike the Estovakian soldiers, this Emmerian soldier had a helmet and bulletproof vest. Even though none of the border guards were paying him any mind, he turned to look at them.
"Crăciun fericit!" The obnoxiously chipper foreigner wished them a merry christmas in their own language. Most Estovakian soldiers couldn't speak fluent Emmerian, but most of them knew one phrase.
"Vai a farti fottere." The Estovakian captain called back.
"And a Happy New Year to you too!" He was unphased. The captain nearly grit his teeth. That was the worst part about Emmerians: They didn't take responsibility. The LUF had been responsible for the death of millions, responsibility Emmeria shared. There was blood on all of their hands. But they acted like they were squeaky clean.
They wouldn't forever. Maybe it wouldn't be soon, but even the lowly foot soldiers at that checkpoint thought that The Generals would make Emmeria pay eventually. Almost every Estovakian soldier, sailor, and pilot (except for the few former LUF ones) were certain of it. Even the civilians figured on it. The Eastern Faction had never missed an opportunity to remind its people and soldiers during the Civil War who their enemy was and who supported them. Only the Emmerians didn't seem to realize it.
Maybe it wasn't apathy; maybe the Emmerians were just stupid. They crossed the border, leaving behind the mess they had caused and still hadn't cleaned up. The border guards watched them go.
Despite what the Estovakians thought, the two groups would never see each other again.
Central Estovakia
December 16th, 2014
The frontlines had been frozen here for years. The LUF couldn't muster enough resources for a major offensive until nearly the end of the war, and the Eastern Faction's tactical prowess hadn't been enough to overcome the numerical superiority of the LUF, just hold it back. It was a stalemate that had almost neatly split the country in two. Skirmishes, dogfights, and artillery duels had been a daily occurance, but none so significant they could change the front. The war had gone on in other ways, against the smaller factions while the LUF stockpiled resources and the Eastern Faction developed the technology they each thought they needed to break the stalemate in the center of Estovakia.
The miles of trenches and thousands of artillery craters-laughable blemishes compared to the Ulysses impact sites- still scared the land and likely would for many more years. Some farmers-central Estovakia had most of the country's arable land-were trying to reclaim it. The roads and railways were intact, having been rebuilt first for military purposes, but only for people to pass through. The region stayed sparsely populated though; The mile wide crater in the region had destroyed most of the towns and cities and few people wanted to try living on top of the 90,000 graves.
Here, nestled at the foot of the mountain ranges that stretched into northern Estovakia, was one of the few pre-Ulysses and Civil War military installations still standing. It was the Estovakian Military's Central Forces Precinct Headquarters, a sprawling reinforced concrete complex of connected above ground buildings, unseen underground tunnels, and even some structures built into the mountains themselves. In terms of resources, the Central Precinct contained most of the Estovakian Air Force. Before the Civil War, it had most of the Army too. But even with the Estovakian Army spread around the country and most units concentrated in what was officially the Western Precinct, the Central Forces Precinct was the de facto main headquarters for those two branches of the military.
With the LUF and Eastern Faction commanding from the edges of the country, this headquarters hadn't been used for its primary function during the war. In fact, it had been used mostly as a military hospital and prisoner of war camp, which explained the very little damage it had sustained. The administrative capital of Estovakia remained in the east, but now the Air Force and Army were relocating a lot of functions here. Many uniforms adorned with many stars walked these halls, but there was only one in these halls that had five stars: Central Forces Precinct Commander Colonel-General Gustav Dvornik, former commanding officer of the Eastern Faction.
He had his own private office as well as residence on the grounds. He was 47 with a gaunt frame, wrinkles, and a graying head of hair that made him look nearly a decade older than he really was. But he radiated a powerful aura that would cause men younger and bigger than him to crumple at his feet. It wasn't just the stars on his uniform collar, but also his accomplishments. As the leader of the Eastern Faction, he'd proven himself a capable military commander, civil administrator, economist, industrialist, and patriot, all qualities that had allowed him to defeat a larger foe and reunite their fractured country. His ability to do that, and the tireless passion to do so, endeared him to many of his fellow Estovakians.
But there was a dark tint to that aura too, something certain people would pick up on more than others. It was the ruthless pragmatism of the necessity to kill scores of his own countrymen to save the rest, the same pragmatism that had seen whole cities that survived Ulysses bombed to rubble. That tireless passion could easily be construed as an obsession, pursuing something to the detriment of thousands-perhaps millions-and even the man himself. His hard-set face conveyed a stubbornness that would immediately convey to anyone he was speaking to that what he said went and that his path was correct and righteous.
The journalists that had disappeared from Eastern Faction controlled territory during the Civil War had spent their last moments thinking about that dark aura.
But Colonel-General Dvornik was still only just a man. Anyone to look upon him in his office at that moment would just see an old looking man hunched awkwardly over a desk covered with paper and folders. They'd see him occasionally groan and try to stretch out an ache that wouldn't go away or rub eyes that had been sleep deprived for so many years that the dark spots would never go away. He'd accomplished a lot, but at a cost, and even now he continued to work tirelessly.
His job now was seeing the reorganization of the Estovakian Military. The Civil War had left it badly disorganized and even now there was still the issue of integrating the former opposing factions.
Naturally, he'd reorganized the Air Force first. Commanding an entire faction had given him a new appreciation for naval and especially ground warfare, but it had also reinforced his belief in the power a well-organized and utilized air force could provide. During the Civil War, they had to work with scraps. Now they had standardized 12 plane squadrons organized into regional aviation regiments that provided the full range of air-to-air and air-to-ground capabilities. They even had a fair number of reserve pilots (mostly former LUF pilots) and planes to fill in any gaps.
In total, the new Estovakian Air Force had over 800 aircraft, nearly double its prewar size. The vast majority of its squadrons were multirole aircraft, although it had a number of fighter squadrons and attacker squadrons. They even had a stealth fighter regiment, made up of three highly valuable (and difficult to maintain) F-22 squadrons. The bomber regiment had over 40 aircraft, including a squadron of stealth F-117s. There was no shortage of support either, with detachments of transport, AWACS, and electronic warfare planes around the country, along with a few other niches. Even without two certain trump cards, the EAF had all the capabilities of a proper air force.
The Estovakian Navy had been the easiest. In truth, there hadn't been a whole lot of naval combat during the Civil War, so most of the country's pre-war stock had come out unscathed. In fact, it was bigger than it had been pre-war. Many surplus warships from Usea and Yuktobania had found their ways to Estovakia's shores as all but one of the factions tried to boost their naval strength. Before the Civil War, Estovakia had only had its South Sea Fleet and Eastern Fleet. Now it had those and half a dozen flotillas, including one with an aircraft carrier that brought the total number in the Navy up to three. There were a few smaller components: A marine brigade, a commando company, some submarines, and a logistical and amphibious force. Everything was up to strength.
The Army was a problem that was taking forever to solve. A large number of the millions of Estovakians fighting on the ground during the war had been militias, and a not insignificant portion of those were behind the lines, acting as a police force since Estovakia's local, provincial, and national law enforcement organizations had disintegrated. There'd been no standardized equipment, organization, or even uniforms in some cases. He'd had to untangle all of that and form a national army once again.
Discharging most of those militias had been a start. Some had been integrated into the regular army, mostly as Military Police battalions-Estovakia had over a hundred such battalions that kept order around the country. Others had been reorganized and renamed to police and transferred from the military to the Ministry of the Interior; they were nominally police, but they still wore dyed Army fatigues and carried the same weapons. The military still handled law and order in most of the country.
The reorganized Estovakian Army had 56 brigades: 6 armored, 17 combined arms, one commando and one airborne brigade, three mountain infantry brigades, and the rest light infantry. A separate Rail Corps handled logistic functions and railway artillery. Hundreds of independent battalions, including the military police battalions, engineer battalions, and several dozen anti-air battalions, supported the rest of the Estovakian Military. That was close to a million men and women.
Virtually every brigade and battalion was understrength and suffered equipment woes though. Pre-war, Estovakian had imported Yuktobanian and Belkan equipment for use. The Belkan equipment especially was very high quality. But imports from Belka had dried up in 1995 after its defeat in the Belkan War, and Yuktobania had banned sales after Ulysses. The old government had started limited programs to develop new domestic weapons, but the most economical solution at the time had been to manufacture domestic parts that could keep those Yuktobanian and Belkan systems functioning. They still had that industry-most of what the country had left-and a lot of those weapons, even if they were getting old by now. Dvornik intended to keep them. But the ugly truth was there just weren't enough for the whole army.
There was a lot of other equipment in the country though. Each side had imported what it could, usually through the black market because there were few official channels to get weapons. Dvornik had been lucky to have two such channels, but it couldn't get him all the Yuktobanian and Belkan equipment he wanted. So while there were a lot of other foreign equipment stored in government warehouses around the country, a few of the ones they had plenty of ammo and parts for were being used in second line units. With vehicles, they couldn't be so picky; unless they absolutely couldn't find parts, every light vehicle or truck they could get their hands on was put into service. And even then, there weren't enough. Tanks and armored vehicles were harder to maintain, so they strictly used Yuktobanian or Belkan made ones they'd already devoted industry to. The non-uniformity of it all greatly annoyed him.
Despite all those shortcomings, the Estovakian Army was an impressive force, resting in the top 10 in terms of size. Few other armies could boast that most of its members were veterans and that it had such a large pool of veterans it could draft to swell its numbers-the only reason Dvornik didn't worry too much about the manpower shortages. But he didn't consider it fit to fight a peer nation just yet, and he needed to be.
Soon, in less than a year, Estovakia would go to war with Emmeria.
It was a long time coming. Seven years coming. As far as Dvornik was concerned, the moment Emmeria recognized General Lyes as Estovakia's rightful head of state, the two nations were enemies. They "hadn't known" what Lyes was doing with their aid, but that didn't absolve them from guilt. He was not going to pretend things weren't bad, but they wouldn't have gotten as bad as they did if Emmeria didn't get involved. Good intentions paved the road to Hell, as they said. The Devil wasn't showing himself, so Estovakia would help them get there.
Every so often, Dvornik would look up from his paperwork at one of only two personal effects on the desk and the only signs of humanity at an otherwise mechanical workstation. It was a framed wedding photo. He recognized the two people in it-what fool wouldn't recognize themself? -and he knew that, though unseen, there were actually three people in that picture. Only two were still alive today. If given the chance, Dvornik would gladly be the one gone if it meant the other two could still be here. He couldn't do that, he was still only a man. But he'd made sure most of the people responsible were dead. His work now would make sure the rest would eventually be too. And, a voice in his head assured him, it would be revenge for many more Estovakians than just himself.
Emmeria would fall. With every fiber of his being committed to it, it was only inevitable.
The plan was deceptively simple: An airborne and amphibious attack on the Emmerian Capital-the coastal city of Gracemeria-to be launched simultaneously with an armored blitz across the land border. Estovakia forces had been massed in western Estovakia for a year now and Emmeria was none the wiser, even though it had a third of its own army on its side. The two strikes would destroy most of the Emmerian military and decapitate its government, giving Estovakia the military advantage on the first day. The armored forces crossing the border and the infantry brigades landing at Gracemeria would force Emmeria to either split its forces or fall back to avoid being flanked.
After that, it was a meticulously planned march west. Estovakian commandos were rehearsing plans to insert into Emmeria before the invasion and seize key parts of the railway that ran through both countries. That would give his forces all the logistical capabilities they needed to reach the west coast of Anea. Complete control of the skies would see them there with few casualties, capturing key airports and military airfields along the way to constantly keep the Estovakian Air Force on the front in force.
The last phase of the operation, and the most tenuous, was Khesed Island, which would be Emmeria's last domain. Ideally, Estovakia would be able to establish a blockade and destroy any forces on the mainland before they could evacuate there, since the island's garrison wasn't particularly large. Estovakia didn't have a particularly large amphibious capacity. In fact, it only had two landing ships. Most of its sea to land logistics were long range LCACs designed to ferry equipment between its eastern islands. They had nineteen C-17s for airlift, but he couldn't definitely say how many they'd have left by that point in the invasion. He had means to get forces on Khesed, enough for the two Emmerian brigades his intelligence told him was stationed there. If he absolutely had to, he could just bomb it from the mainland. He absolutely would not settle for anything but the complete capitulation of all Emmerian territory. The whole offensive had a timeline of a year, but he was confident his forces could pull it off in half that, if not sooner.
And after that? All would be right in the world. Estovakia would integrate Emmeria's infrastructure and resources into its own economy, using it to rapidly reconstruct the damage from Ulysses and the Civil War. Its citizens, after repaying their debts to the Estovakian people, would eventually become Estovakians themselves (or their grandchildren would, at least). Estovakia would settle into controlling most of the Anean continent, living contently beside Nordennavic, whom they had no qualms with. The rest of the world would squawk, but just that; the international community never intervened in these kinds of conflicts. Besides, it was busy in Usea right now. Just this year, they'd had to put down a terrorist uprising on the continent. No, they weren't an issue. The aid might be cut off, but Dvornik had a contingency for that.
He kept working. A well-crafted strategy was necessary, but it was but a small part of what was needed. All his forces had to be properly trained and equipped.
Emmeria was a strong foe; it had nearly twice the population of Estovakia, a whole generation that hadn't suffered the same malnutrition and substandard education Estovakia had. Despite that, their militaries were nearly matched man for man, with a surface level similarity between the number and types of aircraft and warships they had. But the Emmerian Army was far better equipped than theirs. Dvornik was a patriot, but he was a realist too. He could accept that truth, and the truth that it would be a near impossible task to close that gap. But he didn't need to, even though he was working to make it as narrow as possible. A shortcoming in one area could be remedied by strengthening another. The Estovakian Air Force had the power to tip the balance in their favor.
The rumors of the Eastern Faction utilizing advanced technology in the Civil War were true. That was the second personal effect on the General's desk: a little scale model of a plane, the very superweapon that had helped contribute to their victory: The CFA-44. The pre-war government had started developing it before the country truly fell apart, using the state-owned Albastru-Electrice company. After the Civil War started in earnest, the company and all the work fell under their control, and under their watch they'd completed the project. The advanced experimental weaponry the CFA-44 utilized embodied a quality over quantity approach, and it unironically had the combat capabilities equivalent to two or more squadrons of more conventional aircraft. Against the numerically superior LUF, it had been one of the deciding factors. The Estovakian Air Force only had two currently-that was as many as they could reliably maintain and equip. But those two planes were as good as having 50 more conventional tactical fighters.
Then there was his own brainchild: The Estovakian Aerial Fleet, a formation of five massive airships with the force output of an entire air force. The centerpiece was the P-112 Aigaion, an airborne aircraft carrier and cruise missile platform, capable of launching airburst missiles up to 3000km away. The other four airships-P-113 Kottos and P-1114 Gyges-provided electronic and fire support respectively. The entire fleet could remain airborne for three days at a time and had a ludicrous range. Dvornik had come up with it in the middle of the Estovakian Civil War. Part of the thinking was to defeat the LUF, but he'd been thinking ahead too. He'd purposely envisioned a force to control the airspace over the entire Anea continent, because even back then he'd been determined that Emmeria would pay for the pain it'd caused.
It was of his own design, but unlike the CFA-44 it wasn't wholly Estovakian. The technology behind the whole thing-many of the engineers and crew even-were Belkan. A group of around 50 had shown up early in the Civil War, directly seeking refuge. Dvornik and all his subordinates had almost immediately deduced that these were terrorists on the run. Belkan extremists had been causing havoc on the Osean continent ever since Belka's defeat in 1995. Dvornik was distasteful of mercenaries in a conflict he started to save the Estovakian people, let alone former terrorists. But they were willing to pay for being given refuge, not only through fighting for the Eastern Faction, but providing it with troves of Belkan weapons research they had stolen. Belkan had never quite reached superpower status, but it had definitely been one of the most technologically advanced nations in the world. That data was unbelievably valuable.
The so-called "'Heavy Command Cruiser'" concept had captured Dvornik's fascination, filling his head, perhaps too rashly, with even greater dreams of retribution. The Belkans had only envisioned a single ship, the XB-0, serving as a mobile headquarters and capable of transporting a massive amount of material. Dvornik had dreamed bigger. It had taken nearly half a decade to make the project real, at times fighting with his own subordinates and even the Belkans. Progress had started and stopped numerous times. But it had all been worth it in the end. Dvornik had created a force capable of defeating the Lyes United Front AND Emmeria.
The Belkans were all still here too, most in the Aerial Fleet and a few as officers in the regular Army and Air Force. Dvornik had thought about getting rid of them, especially after the Circum-Pacific War between Osea and Yuktobania in 2010. Belkan extremists had manipulated that conflict, the most massive war in generations, for their own benefit. Osea and Yuktobania carried the primary blame, as far as a lot of the world was concerned, since their own hardliners had simply jumped at the chance to finish the Cold War both nations had previously let thaw. But the fact such a small group of extremists had the reach and cleverness to influence things as much as they had was concerning. The Belkans that had done that and the ones that had come here were from the same cloth, Dvornik just knew it. He allowed them to stay, but he would always be suspicious.
Maybe after Emmeria was defeated that would change. He kept working.
At some point, as the afternoon started blending into the evening, his monotonous habit was interrupted by a knock on his office door. Dvornik jerked his head up, a heavy and painful movement. "Yes?" He shouted, never putting his pen down.
His adjutant came in. Lieutenant Colonel Rodovan Milojević had been Colonel-General Dvornik's adjutant since even before the Civil War, back when both men were only a captain and colonel respectively in the Eastern Precient's 55th Aviation Regiment. Just as Dvornik had adapted rising from commanding an aviation regiment to an entire military, the other man had adapted from helping run an aviation regiment to helping run an entire country. He'd even smoothly adapted to the more shady things that came with leading a faction in a civil war, which was more than Dvornik could say for a lot of his subordinates at the time and the people he'd drawn to his side early on.
He didn't fault those men and women or mourn the ones that had perished any less. The torture and executions had rattled him at first too.
"Parcel for you, General." He was holding something wrapped in brown paper that clearly wasn't normal paperwork.
"'Parcel'?" Dvornik repeated, confused. He'd gotten used to receiving mail during the Civil War. Often it was from people and organizations outside Estovakia requesting permission to enter "'his lands'" like he was some kind of warlord. But sometimes it had been handwritten letters too: From his own soldiers, or even their spouses or children pleading for leave or help. Even if he'd always been drowning in paperwork, he'd read those letters. But he never received packages. In fact, the few ever addressed to him had exploded long before getting to him.
"From Mr. Yvo." Lieutenant Colonel Milojević explained sardonically. General Dvornik scowled too and realized he probably should've expected so; that man was the only one that had his new address and had the permission to mail him.
Ewoud Yvo was an executive of the global conglomerate General Resources Limited, one of the world's largest and most diverse corporations. The fat Usean was also the head of the company's branch here in Estovakia, but only because Dvornik had allowed him in during the Civil War. Hardly a day went by he didn't regret it, but it had been just one of many necessary evils.
General Resources, like it or not, had been one of the keys to the Eastern Factions success. They'd been some of the only ones still willing to trade with Estovakia's warring factions, and he'd rather it be with them than the others. For the sweat of Estovakia's people and the riches from its lands, they traded the Eastern Faction the food, medicine, and important industrial and military material it needed to survive. Because the company made everything, it could provide anything. It was a crutch General Dvornik was counting on when the war with Emmeria started and international aid dried up. But that didn't mean he had to like it.
"Really?" His disgust matched the other man's. "What is it?"
"A bottle of aged Erusean wine and a card." His adjutant crossed the office and placed both on his desk. The former head of the Eastern Faction swiped the card and read it. Mr. Yvo was heading back to Usea for a company Christmas event, although he promised to be back after the New Year. This was meant to be an early Christmas gift. Among all the bullshit platitudes sprinkled in was a slightly more cryptic sentence talking about all the joy and betterment the New Year would bring.
"Bah." He tossed the card in the trash. The wine stayed untouched.
"Should I take him off the mailing list, sir?" Milojević asked.
"Tell them to redirect it all to Colonel Vali and only forward it to me if it's important. He's the only one that fat bastard should be talking to these days." Colonel Martin Vali was one of The Generals now leading the country and oversaw a lot of the matters related to finance, the economy, and public works (a lot of the former government's ministries had been consolidated as part of the transfer of power).
"Yes sir." His adjutant didn't waste any more of his time and left. He'd likely only brought it in in the first place to confirm that was what the general wanted. Dvornik stored the bottle in his desk. Estovakians weren't heavy drinkers as, say, Yuktobanians, but there weren't a whole lot of comforts in Estovakia these days, but alcohol was one of them. Though he kept the gift, he scoffed and muttered all the same.
He didn't trust General Resources. Dealing with them felt like dealing with the Devil. The conglomerate had grown tremendously by expanding into Usea after the Ulysses devastation there, jumpstarting the continent's economy until it became its largest employer and owned so many of the factories, shipyards, and property. Billions in profit from the work of millions destitute and desperate after Ulysses. They wanted to do the same with Estovakia and weren't even pretending otherwise. He felt dirty, like he'd whored out his own countrymen he intended to save. But how long would the Eastern Faction have lasted if they'd made a deal with the LUF?
General Resources was powerful, far more than a lot of people seemed to realize. With how much it had in virtually every field, it could cripple a country if it decided to cut it off from trade. It even had its own military: soldiers, aircraft, and even General Resources flagged warships that often escorted its similarly marked cargo vessels into Estovakia's ports. Nations had militaries to protect its people, its culture, and its lands. What was General Resources protecting? Just money.
But Dvornik would be free of them soon too. Estovakia was only forced to deal with General Resources to get what it couldn't make. He still had to import aircraft and ship parts through them. When the war started, he'd have to buy food through only them. But once it had Emmeria's natural resources and infrastructure integrated, Estovakia could be self-sufficient in all ways. General Resources wouldn't get the same stranglehold on Anea it had on Usea. He kept working towards Estovakia's betterment.
He was interrupted again later that evening, by someone his adjutant couldn't have stopped and who Dvornik wouldn't have wanted stopped anyway. A young woman, who's resemblance to the one in the photo was as remarkable as it was tragic.
"Irena." Few things could make a jaded man like him smile, but his daughter would always be one of them. He rose from his desk despite the stiffness and came around to hug the young woman.
"Father." She beamed back at him. Seeing that smile hurt, but it was so bright too.
"How did you get here?" He pulled from the hug. "Especially in civilian clothes?" The raven haired 23 year old was wearing neither her gray fatigues or dress uniform of the Estovakian Air Force.
"The train."
"Second Lieutenant Dvornik." She smiled slightly, but only slightly, and pulled leave papers out of her pocket. Colonel-General Dvornik was well aware most of the Air Force was on leave; the entire branch had spent the last year reorganizing with very few combat operations or flight time in general; they were trying to restore all air frames to top condition and keep them like that. He knew his own daughter wouldn't leave her squadron without being allowed to. "You used your name to get past the guards, didn't you?" His tone wasn't accusatory, but much like that a parent would use to admonish a child that sneaked a snack.
"I just asked." She insisted. Despite being the daughter of the Eastern Faction's leader, Irena Dvornik had earned her position in the Air Force just like every other pilot with grueling training backed up by personal accomplishments. Even now, she still held the lowest officer rank. Her combat record-6 aerial victories-wasn't the most prestigious in the Air Force (aces were very common and many had kills in the double digits), but she was a very skilled Rafale M pilot, and that counted for more than her name.
Still, it carried some weight. She'd been something of a poster girl for the Eastern Faction during the war. If her father flying some of the first combat missions himself hadn't proven his resolve, letting his own child go to the frontlines definitely had. And much like her mother had brought out the softer side in a stoic man, Irena had brought out a more patriotic and noble side of many of the Eastern Faction's forces. She was a daughter of Estovakia too and loved her country enough to fight tooth and nail to protect it from the LUF. Even on the dangerous front lines where pilots from all the other factions sought her head especially.
Her father was proud of her beyond words, despite all the worry it had inevitably caused him. He was sure his wife would've been, as well.
"'Just asked.'" He repeated, an ironic smile on his face. No doubt the guards would've let her in if that was the case. Gustav Dvornik always got what he wanted, out of both respect and fear. As a pitfall, people would go out of their way to do things too that they thought he'd want and earn his ire in the process. He was a military man through and through. He firmly believed in the chain of command and meritorious advancement. Going outside of that when not on the battlefield-and even there not always-was sloppy.
But he was only a man, and his moral code was not infallible.
"It is so good to see you again." He put his hands on her shoulders. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I cannot just visit my own father?"
"Your father is very busy and wishes you'd spend more time for yourself. You're a young woman now. Your country is at peace. You should enjoy it." It was what he'd fought for.
"This young woman would like her poor father who's worked for 15 years to enjoy the peace too." She wasn't wrong. The Civil War may have started in 2007, but he'd been hard at work since Ulysses had fallen in 1999. Estovakia had come a long way since then, and it was definitely closer than it had ever been to a return to normalcy. When these plans for Emmeria were realized, it would be. Dvornik was close to the end of a very long journey. It wasn't the right time to stop working.
And yet.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Christmas! When is the last time we spent Christmas together?" His daughter implored him. The man had to think. He hadn't taken any Christmases off during the Civil War; no one had because no one trusted the other not to try something. Even last year there'd still been residual fighting going on in December. The last time had been before the Civil War, when soldiers and officers like him would still go home for the holidays without too much guilt. It took some effort to remember.
"2005. When you were still a little girl."
"I was thirteen."
"That's what I said." Underneath all that intellect, ruthless, and pragmatic military mindset, there was still a father, rare as it may show. "I will see, Irena, but I can't make any promises." His daughter hugged him and did not prod any further. He was already analyzing it in his mind. Missing a single day in peacetime wasn't liable to derail his plans in any significant way. Whatever paperwork he did, it still had to be executed by the people further down the chain of command, and that took time. Insisting on doing more paperwork wasn't going to make things go faster.
He could afford Christmas. It'd been months since he'd really gotten out and seen how the country was doing anyway. Seeing it again would give a boost to his motivation to do what was needed.
Emmeria was going to fall.