"Mono/Dialogue"
'Inner thoughts'
Narration
[Message/communication apparatus]
Date: 28th October 645 AU
Location: Unknown ndmass west of Regalian Autarchy.
POV: Narrator.
A pair of naval task forces with eight ships each is heading towards the recently uncovered, unknown ndmass. These naval task forces consisted of 1 modernized Duke Valor-css Battleship, 2 Count Comet-css Light Cruisers, 2 Viscount Castor-Css Destroyers, and 3 Knight Malka-css Corvettes.
Preliminary reports from RAIO indicate that the ndmass is uninhabited by sentient lives. They had tried to airlift a replica of a human mannequin, and it didn’t take even an hour for it to be torn to pieces. Creatures of this world bore a resembnce to a few incursions based on recorded history, but that’s all they get. Thus, it has been deemed sufficient to allocate force of arms to ensure the safety of further surveying efforts.
They had been tasked with surveying and perhaps contacting this alien world’s inhabitants. If things went as pnned, a survey would be conducted from the southern end of the ndmass, then moving counterclockwise until this fleet met the other task force with simir assignments starting from the northern end. To supplement their task and ensure efficiency and safety, they were given authority to judge and gauge hostility. Lethal retaliation is discouraged but otherwise allowed.
Amidst its retively busy bridge, Commodore Freddy Lucas is currently conversing with his XO regarding this outstanding phenomenon, and it does sound like a myth for being transported to another world after all. Judging from his neatly trimmed brown beard and few wrinkles on his face, he looks like a veteran in his te 40s, but one might be surprised to know his age.
“How long would it take for us to reach the ndmass again? It is just that sailing on RNS Sajanus has never been so serene…” His lips curled into a relieved grin. The sea breeze and tidal waves against the ship hull are a rhythmically soothing orchestra that every sailor would be gd to attend.
“I understand the sentiment, and it should take around… 2 more hours, Commodore. It was a truly therapeutic experience, not having to contend with Anti-Ship missiles or suicide munitions.” His aides give a minute shrug while checking on some documents.
“Rightly so, and I wonder just how simir yet alien the local aquatic life had been so far.”
“We had seen creatures that bear simirity from Southern Icefield Exclusion Zone, with a caveat of being docile, unlike those hell beasts. Even if the size of these aquatic creatures is concerning, they don’t seem to mind us all that much unless we bred the fleet’s active sonars.”
“True enough, since it is 50/50 on aggression or mild curiosity, even we got ourselves some specimens on board… No poisoning incidents, right?”
“None so far, and it proves to be helping with morale after years of munching on tasteless crackers.” The XO sighed sadly. Prompting a sympathizing gaze from his superior.
“…I thought we won’t see another war for at least 20-30 years after the previous one… I was about to finish college but snuck away to join the Navy… That was the moment when the realization hit me about everything… the war had been hell for us; we should have realized why they accepted so readily.” Instead of a reprimand, the Commodore nodded with his eyes cast over the horizon. He was also one of them who was bright-eyed, patriotic, and wanted to contribute to the defense of the mothernd after the great defeat at Luna Sea 8 years ago.
The general mood from that betrayal was of disbelief, then anger, and from there, he rushed to the recruitment office despite being a candidate for the Valedictorian position and thus exempted from conscription. He would lie to say that he never doubted the UFSNE and other smaller nations, but so far, they had been proving to be a reliable ally despite their limitation compared to those who did nothing and effectively disavowed agreements between them.
Regalian soils are used to fight dimensional creatures and humans, but it doesn’t make it less painful when they do need to fight humans. He had a brief chat (scuffle) with a prisoner who kept insisting that Regalia has been hogging so many resources for themselves while the Old World burns. They also accused his country of profiting from conflict via arms trade and diplomatic sabotage.
“Aye, I never thought that I’m not swimming with the fish already… Those NIIO’s bastards are damn good in war… Should I be happy or sad for being a Captain at 25 years old back then?” His XO just shrugged his question before moving on.
A recent memory surfaced, and thankfully a positive one, he made friends with those volunteer pilots. When he rushed to meet them after the bright light had subsided, he found their bunks empty, and they were gone. He was stunned, speechless, and reported this incident, only to be informed that all volunteers had gone missing while leaving their equipment and lend-lease behind.
“I daresay it was less about them being good and more about how MURG’s sudden entrance had caught us off guard. Why did our longstanding ally betray us like that?”
“I have no idea why, but maybe because we have been pushing south so often and found it wasn’t so empty. That might be what made them envious and greedy… what the hell did our Diplomatic corps do? Smoking hashish and sniffing cocaine dust?” A bitter jest.
‘… one of the major reasons we could survive so well was due to the tundra and how intimately unpleasant it was to be so close to Southern Icefield Exclusion Zone.’ Of course, some theories are better left unsaid.
“Or the Eastern offshore oil reserve…”
“Or that.” He said that while pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Fred already goes through his allotment, but his XO gave him his in exchange for more of those tasteless crackers. He obliged, and this is a common occurrence under his command. Each Commissioned Officer has their style of commanding, and he likes a much more rexed approach.
Lucas leaned at the window to his side and saw his sailors enjoying the calmness in lieu of their duties. Less than a tenth of his men are barely over the age of 20, how truly grim was the war indeed? Their youthful face and the steadiness of their hands from rigorous training and deadly field experience bring forth a bitter but proud grin.
“By the way, Commodore.”
“Hmm?”
“Was the rumor true?”
“Rumor…? Ah, that rumor!” Fred pced his hand beneath his jaw, but his smile was real.
“Yeah, our Grand Autarch opens her eyes. I’ll be honest: those rumors about her eyes were watered down. Even when I was looking through the screen, it felt like her eyes were staring deep inside my soul, giving me some real shivers more than a rain of missiles. Then again, it shows how this situation and the war's abrupt end was shocking enough for her.”
“Isn’t it sad though? She’s the st of her kind now…”
“Honestly… yes. She stopped opening her eyes for centuries after the unification. No doubt that keeping the entire continent up and running be a daunting task on her mind… but it’s more about how her kind had been dwindling.”
“Elders… Records of the past had shown the oldest one could be around 3000 years, and they were numerous back then… yet even they perished.”
“Doesn’t sound unbelievable, our history had recorded how the first Regalian settlers were normal humans that came along with those Elders. We are what we are because of being exposed to that bsted zone for generations.”
They continued for some time and enjoyed this calm voyage. It has been years since they don’t have to keep 24-hour combat readiness and moor at Southern Icefield Exclusion Zone’s hidden bases, those very bases that made them prefer open naval combat with ludicrous fatality rates.
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Simultaneously, the GSN’s marines are busy with their duties, preparing everything to be ready so the nding would be a smooth one. Landing crafts in the form of amphibious personnel carriers are being maintained and checked for any malfunctions, logistical crews hauling supplies, sailors keeping the ships up and running, and personnel coordinating with one another to discuss measures taken during the upcoming nding.
They had been assailed by some local aquatic life with hostile intentions, but bsting sonar was enough to push them away. Still, the more daring tried to take a bite at the armored hull with predictable results and then bsted by depth charges or anti-submarine missiles. Inside one of the transport is a conference room or debriefing station, filled with COs and NCOs for the upcoming operation.
A man in his early 40s walked towards the front, a reguted haircut and a rather antique choice of sidearm on his hip. He has three medals attached to his uniform, and his posture, gait, and demeanor inspire confidence in all who see him. He is Lt. Colonel Tarkan, and he soon steps on his podium to start the briefing, a monitor lights up.
“Morning, dies and gents, let’s get this show on the road.” He pushes a button, and a map lights up for everyone’s perusal. They could see that the nd was a vertical strip, complete with contours that showed the incline getting steeper further on to the northern part of said ndmass. They also see a ke in the middle of 2 mountains.
“At approximately 20th October 645, we had received information that this isnd had been surveyed by reconnaissance pnes. It has been confirmed that we will be expecting type 1 through 3 of SIEZ’s organism or its equivalent.” He shows recordings of unusual creatures and humanoids skulking around the woods, and some could even be seen entering a territorial conflict with one another.
No one said anything, but a few studious marines were jotting down simple notes for ter use.
“I’ll make it clear once again: we are in an alien world. This cssification might not be accurate thus, we had been granted the honor to step first into what might be an abyss. Just like old times, eh?” Knowing grins spread amongst the marines, it is a known fact that Grand Autarch Renoir had been running them roughshod, but they’re used to it. Suffice it to say they were handsomely compensated as part of her private military wing.
“Our overall objectives are securing a beachhead, pushing innd, and either making contact with neutral and cooperative entities or exterminating any and every hostile wildlife we encounter. Treat them the way we treated SIEZ’s anomalous entities.” He holds up a finger.
“But, we know that getting into a jungle would be asking for trouble and is pin stupid. This is why we shall devise a pn to lure them to the beach, making them easier to eliminate.” The slide moves on to show a kind of device that is a mix of a megaphone and radio.
“We shall utilize the doctrines and supported by gadgets we had used back in SIEZ, if it works, we will expedite extermination, if it fails, then we shall fortify the beachhead and, unfortunately, comb through the jungle.” Nods of understanding were exchanged between participants.
“In a situation where we are confronted by a type 5 and above of hostile creatures, we are allowed to utilize Citadel’s primary firepower to eliminate those threats. Then the matter of deployment would be done in 4 waves due to the narrow beachhead.” He paused.
“Our 1st battalion would have the honor to be the first to carry our fg in an alien world, remember that Grand Autarch Renoir is closely monitoring this operation, and you mustn’t throw mud in her face. Any question so far?” A marine raises her hand.
“Sir, could you expand on our procedure when meeting intelligent life?”
“Thank you for your question. Alright, to make it simple, Her Grace expects us to perform non-hostile contact. We would be conducting coexistence protocol, but if they actively tried to harass us, then neutralize them, and, if not possible while presenting a danger to our side, shoot to kill is allowed. Clear?”
“Clear, sir.”
“Anything else?”
“When would be the mechanism activation for the lure? Is it before, during, or after we nd?”
“Sure, the lure will be started as soon as the first wave makes ndfall. You got that son?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Next?”
“Sir, why would the lures be activated as soon as we made ndfall? Wouldn’t it be better to wait for everyone to nd?”
“Ah, that, very good question. We wanted to avoid another 595, which was a nasty surprise. Having everyone already nded would overcrowd the beach, making it hard for us to retreat if the situation calls for it. Then we could not guarantee that while we are building fortification, those monsters would just sit there and wait.” He paused briefly.
“Sure, back then, we didn’t have these fancy amphibious vehicles, nor was the Grandea truly capable of CAS, but the potential threat couldn’t be understated. You got that ss?”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Anyone else? No? All right… where was I… oh yeah, the Operation’s codename would be Colchian Vacation.” A few chuckled at the name. That operation would be anything but a vacation.
“We’re expected to conduct a 3-weeks-long operation before we are substituted by regur garrison units if we succeed. We will have 2 Light Cruisers shadowing along the coastline to provide support along with a ptoon of Grasdivi to conduct potential high-risk operations on standby.” The mention of Grasdivi being involved made them tense. Tarkan notices their expressions but presses on with the meeting.
“Remember to keep in touch with each other, and JTAC will be able to coordinate and cooperate with Citadel while our attached air wing becomes the bulk of our supporting element. We shall be the ones to press into the unknown.” Tarkan gives them a toothy grin.
“For this operation, we would also be allotted extra rationing and priority on the logistical chain.” The st bit elicits a small cheer from the Marines, showing a confirmation of Regalia’s reality.
“The phrase code for a successful nding would be ‘Perseus had severed the Serpent’s head.’ while mission failure would be ‘The prophecy was broken.’ that’s all from me, best of luck, dies and gentlemen.” He steps down from the podium with his hand on his chest to perform a regur Regalian salute. The Marines stood up and followed suit.
“Eternity!”
““““For our Autarchy!””””
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Amphibious transports are riding through the tide and cleaving the sea to forge a path toward their assigned positions on the beachhead. The first wave consisted of 40 amphibious APCs with a capacity for, excluding the crew, 10 passengers or a whole squad each. This UFSNE’s workhorse has been in service for 12 years through licensing and has been serving faithfully with GSN-MF. The marines inside could only wait with bated breath, checking on their gear or praying to ease their nerves.
This won’t be the first time for them to be assigned as the vanguard, yet anxiousness remains, especially on the greener personnel. Unlike the regur infantryman back home, these Marines are still issued with the M11A1 – A3 variants with a wider, more sophisticated array of support weapons, and for good reasons. Inside one of these amphibious APCs, a Captain could be seen looking at a photo of his kids, which was soon noticed by one of his subordinates.
“Someone already got distracted.”
“These are my kids, Tom, and unlike your sorry ass, I have real commitment… What, jealous?”
“Nah, it felt surreal how Dorothy left our squad, ya know… Diego and Dorothy… that’s a double D for D’s future.” Someone groaned, hearing Tom’s words, and looked away.
“Sure is, one of us must stay back...”
“Welp, this is life now. Say, you think I still got my game with me?”
“You mean Lisa? Bah, she got married a week ago.”
“Wait?! For real?!”
“Really, Tom? You just knew about it now? Did you even read Diego’s memo?” A female nce corporal knitted her brows. The rest of her squad either watch from the sideline or just mind their own business.
“Oh come on, Anne, don’t tell me that twin of yours snag herself some other SoB?”
“It’s your fault. I keep badgering you on and on for you to grow some spine… see where it leads you?”
“Haha… oh well, are you interested?”
“One night? Sure. Tie the knot? You can go to hell; I ain’t so forgiving to give you a second chance.” In contrast, they poke ‘fun’ at each other. A nervous rookie is clutching her rifle’s barrel tightly, with her eyes never leaving the floor. Such a nervous figure caught the attention of a veteran.
“Hey kid, ease up.” A marine lightly tapped the recruit’s shoulder. Her body tensed, but she kept herself from jumping off her seat.
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Just rex for now, look at our Captain.” He points at Diego, who is half-tempted to stop the bickering duo yet decides to reach out to other squad leads for coordination.
“Being ready to run-and-gun is nice, but being tense would tire you before even pulling the trigger; that right there would be bad. Oh yeah, my name is Harule, I was spacing out back there, yours?”
“I-I’m – ahem… my name is Seira Mymot… A-A-A Private, S-Sir.”
“Nice to meetcha… just follow our lead and remember, squeeze the trigger, don’t pull them, ok?”
“Ok…” They are just about to continue their conversation when the APC’s driver informs them of the upcoming nding.
[This is your Cruise Liner’s Captain speaking, we’re approaching the beach in 2 mikes, so please remember to check your luggage. Thank you for your patience, and please don’t slip on the ramp and then get transferred to the test new world in 10 seconds because the expnation would be a pain in the ass.] The so-called captain’s me and dry joke still elicits amused chuckles from the veterans and uneasy chuckles or dead-shut mouths from the rookies.
“That’s our call, Toyotomi take point with the scanner, Raul gets the AT ready just in case, Cahn finishes up your prayers quickly, and Esmeralda right on me for JTAC.” The Squad makes their st checks. With that out of the way, they stack up and are ready to surge the beach along with their armored support. Then, they feel a small shaking before the ramp opens up.
The squad pours out of their transport, and their feet touch the sandy field and salt water. Diego could see other squads making their way out of their own and start forming a row behind the APC. He motions his subordinates to stack up along and maintain their watch on each side. Gncing back, he could see two helicopters on standby just a few clicks from their position while another pair had just returned from scouting further innd.
Three hundred meters away from the sea, their scanners have yet to pick up anything resembling an anomaly or wildlife. That won’t be for long when Lt. Col. Tarkan's voice was then transmitted into their net.
[This is Sealord to the first wave, Citadel has reported a rge surge of hot spots moving on your position with an ETA of potential contact in 15 minutes. Real-time feed suggests categories 1 and 2 would be the bulk of OpFor. Break. Start digging in and remember that Citadel is avaible for tasking. The lure had worked, get ready for open season, over and out.] With that as his cue, Diego activated the 1st company net.
Soon, affirmation of their orders was confirmed. He watches as the Marines fan out, and soon, the 2nd company follows suit with their designated zone. He turns his attention to his squad mates, who are waiting for the order.
“Enrique, set your firing position quickly, we would need your GPMG! Annelise and Thomason get on top of the APC then the rest of you with me!” The Marines and the APC triple-time their position to reach a much more suitable location. There is still enough clearing for them to dig in better and not just sit on a sandy, open beach.
The Marines then set up a defensive line with their APC at the forefront to provide some measure of coverage while the engineers did their best in digging up shallow foxholes. They waited and waited until tremors could be felt, approaching ever so closer. The APCs' remote-controlled grenade unchers and machine guns are pointed forward while Marksmen climb on top of the APC to get a much better angle.
Then, the wave of abominable creatures could be seen passing by the tree line. They consisted of childlike creatures with an ugly face and sickly green skin tones, a pigheaded humanoid wearing apparel made with bones, and several rger humanoids with multiple limbs and arms. If they weren’t clutching weapons and or letting out a hellish cry of the damned, the Marines would have stood down.
The next logical move would be none other than…
[This is Sealord to all units, weapon’s free. I repeat, weapon’s free.]
Guns bze along the coastline while the APCs are pouring hot lead and hot potato on top. These creatures were momentarily staggered by the sheer volume of fire coming down from less than 600 meters (660 yards) away. Some grow fearful and stumble around, but most keep on advancing while using the dumber creatures as shields to weather the storm.
That work to an extent as to how several smarter creatures stack up and heft a fallen pigheaded humanoid as a makeshift cover. Shame that 40mm grenades never knew this term called ‘meatshield’ and bst away with a concentrated mix of hot lead and shrapnel. With how the coast started to smell iron and filled with lead, the logistical element followed not far behind to keep everyone stocked up with ammo and grenades.
The creatures’ momentum falters after reaching the 400 meters (440 yards) mark, not only because of the sheer intensity from the wall of guns but also due to their own dead forming a wall of corpses that impeded their march. They climbed atop their fallen, only to be shot dead the next second and followed by the rest. Those who leveraged their fallen were greeted with a deadlier barrage to counteract their nascent intelligence.
Remote-controlled vehicles armed with small arms close in on the approaching horde. Their fmethrowers, shotguns, and smaller caliber machine gun proves distracting enough to divert these beasts' attention. Some were destroyed in the process, but not without blowing up soon after.
Lest we forget, JTACs are tirelessly coordinating with Sky Citadel, which has been loitering in the sky to comply with fire missions. Soon, 40mm, 105mm, and even 155mm shells start raining down from heaven to bring forth the wrath of god.
Abominations are being vaporized from direct hits, and the bst caused more than just disruption on the back line, easing up the torrential wave crashing against the defensive line. Monster corpses with hideous wounds were strewn about like when one could find inside a banged-up butchery. Blood soaked the sand to give it a redo in coloring. Guts and flesh made the crowded beachhead a slippery death trap filled with mangled dead or guttural groans of pain.
Marines’ battle rifles scored colteral on account of their already hefty caliber, but the rger ones acted less like guns and more like buzzsaws and chainsaws, ripping and tearing many to death. People often forget that a bullet doesn’t just pierce, it also ejects enough force to rip apart molecules like slices of bread.
The corpse wall was stacked and blown time and time again, and the smarter one had run back to the woods. This scene is nothing short of hell on earth, but they truly start faltering on the push after the 2nd wave has nded. Adding another yer of protection to the already robust wall of men and guns working in tandem to promote industrial killing in an expedited manner.
Further, fresh reinforcements shifted around the battle line to thicken the defensive perimeter. This reflects their training and skilled coordination of their command chain. Tarkan constant orders and directing the combat from his command post is a work of art. Helicopters are being rotated in and out to keep up their intensity, and more are on their way.
The command center and the battlefield are harmoniously lively.
[Conserve ammo! Pick and Aim!] Diego and his fellow NCOs remind their respective squad mates not to squander their munitions willy-nilly. Annelise could be seen on top of their APC with her MPR-17A2 – Crow picking off the bigger targets with pinpointed headshots. If her shot proves ineffective for whatever reason, Staff Sergeant Thomason would pick up her sck and pop her former targets’ heads like a firecracker using his anti-materiel rifle, the HMR33A2 Mamba.
Private First-css Cahn could be seen picking his target carefully and scanning around for stragglers. He seems to pick and choose creatures that are smarter than they look, such as those who crawl, those who move and stop periodically, or those who py dead. He rationalized that ‘Monkey see, monkey do’ would not be a good behavior for these monsters to replicate, so he prioritizes them.
Corporal Enrique is just bsting down range with his GPMG-1. The 7.62x51mm rounds tore through multiple targets while blowing holes too hard to patch up inside a chaotic surge and wave of mass and blood-soaked ground. His gun barrels overheat from time to time, necessitating a change, but not once did the gun itself jammed. One might think that he has the time of his life, but one look at his hands would make those perceptive enough to notice a slight tremble on them.
Private Seira is lying prone on a small ditch she had dug up earlier. Her palms are tense and sweaty, but she keeps a clear head to not pull but squeeze on the trigger. Firing in a controlled semi-auto helps in maintaining her aim, scoring a couple of fatal hits such as heart, head, and even lungs weren’t spared from her disciplined proficiency.
Staff Sergeant Harule is squeezing the trigger with snappy discipline, alternating from one end to the other. He prefers to take out closer targets and keep an eye out for the rookie, a bit worried but also impressed seeing how cool-headed she is so far. He never uses the full-auto feature; old habits die hard, and the battle rifle did its job swimmingly.
Specialist Toyotomi alternated between using his rifle and grenade uncher. He primarily focuses on keeping watch for potential congregation and clumped-up targets. Curiously, his eyes are constantly checking back on the sky every time he needs to reload his rifle. His shoots were controlled in a burst, and never once did he use the full-auto feature simply because his shoulder would feel it more, unlike his mates.
The OpFor couldn’t push any further than the 200 meters (220 yards) mark. By cycling shots and reloads between the grunts and vehicles, the marines could conserve their momentum and volume of fire that were further supported by the sea and air. Rifles and grenade unchers are backed by MGs and MGs by autocannon and grenade machinegun ad infinitum. The longer it went, the better it would be since dedicated personnel for logistics had been unloading supplies when the 2nd wave arrived.
While the grunts are doing their work without much fanfare, the crews of APCs are providing supporting fire with priority pced on clumped-up or enclosing targets. Their grenade machine gun is making fantastic progress in thinning out the horde into chunks and bloody bits. To join in on the struggle would be 4 R/AH-67 Onyx Eagles raining down 30mm High-Explosives shells along the tree line with a side dish of 67mm unguided rockets served through piping hot barrages of explosive ordnances.
Winged Opfors began to swoop in from the skies but were promptly shredded to pieces by the Marines and their combat vehicles. Some shows concerning resilience, such as the smaller draconic creatures, but their rge wings were soon peppered with holes, prompting them to crash back unto the earth. Occasionally, a few tried to hurl their body onto the Regalian line, but they fell short and crashed hard enough to form a crater that did more harm than good on their side.
Light Cruisers offshore weren’t idle either, and to conserve missiles for potentially formidable targets, the double twin-barreled 203mm cannons were raining down shells down range. Soon, a beautiful orchestra of 10 shells per minute from each main cannon thumped and shook the ground with the scent of wholesale industrial warfare and the fortitude of the race of men.
Flowers of death bloomed in the distance, causing hundreds of monsters to be eviscerated and obliterated back to whichever hell these spawns crawled from. Each boom cracked the earth and disoriented these poor creatures unwittingly used as target practices. Even when in their near dazed state, some had their survival instincts kicking in and fleeing the battlefield haphazardly.
Thus, the marines, navy, and its aviation complements fought and stood their ground all under the watchful eye of the venerable Sky Citadel high up in the sky. Regalian Marine’s 3rd wave almost reached the beachhead, further solidifying their foothold. To bravely strike out or to stubbornly hold, the Grand Sovereign Navy-Marine Corps shall be the first to pull the trigger that shall echo over the new world.
Location: Former Autarky of Casherl, Umbral Pace, Underground Command Center.
[This is 3rd squad on the northern quadrant; we have four-armed creatures, possibly type 3, and- look out!] A brief static could be heard before the communication line was restored.
[That thing flung rocks at us! JTAC contact Sky Citadel! We have something for it to chew!]
[4h squad is holding in tight; we had three close calls but nothing more.]
[What’s the ETA of the fourth wave?]
[They should disembark in 10 minutes, Sir.]
[I want those choppers already on the southern fnk, live feed shows that these creature starts getting too creative for my liking.]
The nding force’s communication channels are being monitored from Umbral Pace’s command center. Cylene herself is reclining on her chair while Grasdivis and Pace staff are undertaking a joint effort to observe, monitor, and report each section for any intriguing piece of information.
Curiously, Cylene’s eyes are closed, and one might have suspected her to be sleeping. That is untrue because the Grand Autarch has one of her hands on a newspaper while the other is being used to hold a headgear that allows her to listen to Tarkan’s every word. She hands the headgear over to a maid and focuses on the newspaper.
A part of her wondered how she sees through closed eyes, but that’s for ter.
[The Grand Autarch's eyes had opened for the first time in 200 years!]
‘So that was a really big deal… good to know…’ After shuffling to the next page, she takes a sip of her coffee. An authentic and not the watered down or artificial blend she used to scarcely drink from her previous life.
[Field Marshal Caligo was apprehended by The Internal Military Bureau on the 24th of October. She was infamous for her ruthless strategy that had caused the deaths of millions of allies and foes alike. General public opinion on her has been at an all-time low ever since the 20th Global War was brought to an abrupt end. Was her method a necessity, an incompetency, or a tragedy?] Cylene sighed while nursing a headache. She had also heard that Caligo would be judged in court, but ultimately, she could decide her fate and overturn everything.
‘Ugh, this problem… Well, at least Rossa did great in keeping her safe for ter… the first thing I need to ensure is how I could make use of this case. What to do… options… options…’ She decides to have it shelved for ter and keeps looking through the newspaper.
[Otherworldly phenomenon left POW camps, mass graves of foreign soldiers, and alleged spies' hideouts empty. Government agents and local authorities intensified sweeping operations.]
“Hmm…” To say that it doesn’t interest her would be false. The details have yet to be understood, but she couldn’t help it. There are more pressing matters to attend to. She goes to the next page while sipping her coffee.
[Cowardly traitors had been captured! Their treacherous snders and defiance towards Regalia meant that their rights had been waived, and our justice shall be swift! Long Live the Autarchy! Praised be the Grand Autarch!] She wanted to balk at the headline but decided it was not worth it, or she just didn’t care about them.
[Gigantic seafood by the next door! Ministry of Maritime Economy had announced that more and more otherworldly fish have been deemed clear for consumption. This led to a craze of fishery race that has been sanctioned under the Ministry and our beloved Grand Autarch’s will.]
‘My will… it's... surreal, but I guess there is nothing left but to accept it. I’m more than happy to make peace with that horrible life and what transpired in that horrid war… I really shouldn’t mess it up… or am I? What if these are all but a dream? Hah… more can of worms…’ She turns to another, and her eyebrows knitted ever so slightly.
[Rationing will still be in effect for the foreseeable future. Autarch Raymond stated, ‘We are all in this plight and perilous ocean as family, and thus we too shall sail through as a family. Do not lose heart for the storm shall pass!’ during a conference yesterday.]
‘Should I urge Site Omicron to try splicing an algae mutant variant anyway?’ She doesn’t have much knowledge about biology or botany, so it might be wise to ask them. Shifting to the next…
[The transference had caused a gradual but rapid change of moisture and weather. Meteorologists expect the average temperature to rise while concern over the warming climate starts gaining attention. The general public is worried that this shift would affect their life by a significant margin, especially after the first few cases of heatstroke were recorded in the continent. Biologists also stated that a shift in the ecosystem is a very real possibility.]
‘Drat… warmer temperature means lesser needs for thick yers of clothing, which also means our army must be boiling with that many yers on them. Hmm… it won’t be as bad as the Western Saharan War, at least. Then the common popuce would no doubt need to adapt, how well is the question…’ Flip onto the next page…
[The military had advised the civilian popuce to avoid rivers and canals after an incident occurred yesterday regarding a dozen active artillery rounds found swept by the current. To prevent unwanted fatalities and tragedies, soldiers shall be patrolling and sweeping 24/7 along suspected areas until further notice.]
‘God dammit…’ Next…
[This is your daily PSA as per Autarchic Order No. 79.
The civilian popuce is encouraged to report suspicious activity to the local garrison.Do not accept suspicious items from strangers, official Autarchy officers would always follow a pre-designated schedule and arrive with legal papers in hand.Do not approach industrial or military instaltions without proper permit, failing to do so shall result in imprisonment and be deemed a threat to the state.News regarding rationing change would only be reported through approved channels until further directives, any other method must be reported swiftly to your local garrison.Remember, keeping what you know to yourself shall qualify you for doing your part in our collective struggle.Our brothers and sisters are struggling against injustice. You can help the war effort by enlisting in the War Support Department. There is no such thing as an insignificant effort on your part.It only takes a pse in judgment to jeopardize you and your loved ones; be vigint against rebels.Thank you for your attention. Victory for the Autarchy!]
‘I guess I need to inform the information ministry to rectify this… or should I hold it off instead? Meh…’ Passing onto the next…
[Spokesperson of Regalian High Command had decred that the de-mining operation had been started in earnest. They targeted that the operation shouldn’t take longer than a year.]
‘I need to remind them that mines shot by artillery or airdropped behind our lines are the real problem.’ More and more concerning news is piling on her desk, but there is nothing she can do to resolve them immediately like flipping the back of her hand. While her mind agonized about it, Meredith returned with a new batch of sandwiches.
“Pardon me, Your Grace, this is another batch fresh from the kitchen.” She carefully arranged the eight pieces of high-quality roast beef on her table. Cylene sports an imperceptible smile seeing it, another food she is getting too fond of.
“Thank you, dear.” Meredith curtsied, her cheeks tinted a light hue of pink, but she kept her expression stoic. For whatever reason, Cylene took a liking to her. The girl in question was left dumbfounded about why the most powerful person in the country took interest in her of all people. Needless to say, she was given an appropriate rank, Major, and some stares here and there.
“Remind me about my next appointment.”
“Your Grace’s upcoming duties would entail talks with private corporations and armament manufacturers. They had expressed concern on what to focus upon during our post-war era.”
“Mhm.” Meredith found something adorable. The Grand Autarch’s face is as indifferent as ever when eating her food, but there is this nigh-imperceptible giddiness in her touch that she finds endearing.
‘How interesting, Her Grace favors simple dishes…’
“Then there would be your scheduled medical check-up by 4 P.M. Doctor Karel had underlined its importance.”
“Hmm~, I’m growing fond of his frankness. Thank goodness my agents didn’t pull the trigger… next.”
“An inspection of the Grand Laboratory by the evening, our astrologists and climatologists would wish to discuss several dire topics.”
“As quick as ever.” She mouthed off Cylene’s schedule with a practiced eloquence. Meeting with this group here, inspect that during this, and so forth. It doesn’t take long before she reaches the end.
“Good, you may return.” Meredith bowed and joined her fellows near the wall. A whole cadre of maids and butlers standing like statues, truly picturesque. One would be sorry to underestimate them, however…
One of her subjects handed the Grand Autarch the headphones again.
[This is Sealord to all units, Perseus had severed the Serpent’s head. I repeat, Perseus had severed the Serpent’s head.]
[END OF CHAPTER]
Author’s Note:
Yo there, this is me, myself, and I, the author who is just tired.
Regalia used the generalized corvette cssification because Cylene couldn’t be bothered to diversify and then catalog the tempte. So she put them under the umbrel term and called it a day, she might change it, idk. I lied.
R/AH-67 Onyx Eagle = Sikorsky / S – 67. A Cold War helicopter that was designed to provide a reliable aerial weapons ptform. Unlike in real life, Regalia approves the commissioning of this rotary craft in rge quantities. They had struck a deal for the UFSNE’s Apache, but a divide in Congress halted the process. They had also reached out to MURG for Mi-24s, but the war happened, and their joint development of new attack helicopters with Victoria also died in the water after catastrophic failure in stopping NIIO from making ndfall. Or was it?
Duke Valor-css Battleship = Reactivated and refurbished during the 4th year of the war due to scarcity of vessels to harass from hidden southern naval bases. This is a modernized Lion-css Battleship, with an 800 ft (243 m) length but 4000 tons lighter, essentially a fast battleship. Instead of 3 X triple-barreled 16 in (406 mm) cannons, it is fitted with 2 x double-barreled 14 in (356 mm) cannons, and 96-cell VLS would fill in for the loss of firepower. All the 40mm and secondary turrets were swapped for AA unchers and CIWS.
Count Comet-css Light Cruiser = Modified and modernized Minotaur-css Cruiser. Old AA and secondary turrets were repced with CIWS and AA Missiles, while the main guns became the aforementioned double-barreled 203mm and Anti-ship missile unchers.
Viscount Castor-css Destroyer = Altered Daring-css (D 05) to accommodate 32 AShM-20 missile (original). Primary cannons were repced with a single modified and automated plus lengthened 120mm M1 Gun for naval use. AA is complemented by 2 CIWS and 2 AA unchers. There are pns to adopt the 127mm cannon and a much more homogenous weapon system, but they are currently in the process of using up the stockpiled munitions, cleaning inventory, and saving money… Government stinginess reared its head again…
Knight Malka-css Corvette = Original creation armed with 1 x double-barreled 20mm Oerlikon for AA defense positioned at the bow and one M2HB each for port and starboard on a gun mount. The main offensive armament would be a pair of 8 tubes for AShM-20s, for a total of 16. The entire boat weighs less than 400 tons. Crewed by 23 enlisted and five officers.
That’s all… update when? Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…
Ciao.
