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As you may gather from the title, this is a pre-game fic that will have it's later stages in-game. It's a multiple chapter fic that obviously covers the actual invasion of Doma by Vector's military forces. It's not a pretty fic, obviously, and it'll be from varying points of view as the war progresses, starting with the navy clearing the northern shores of Doma, furthest from Vector, but the area with the lightest defences and not risking the involvement of Thamasa, thus providing a fairly simple task for the Marines to land and allow the Army ashore. It uses the information I made up for the Nations and Regions of FF6 to expand it so it's not a dull case of Imperial troopers surrounding a castle for a year.

Final Fantasy Six: The Doman War.
Stage One: Naval Engagement
March 19th, Nikeahn Sea, 15 miles off the shore of Port St. Martin, Approx 0800 hours.

The fishing trawler Heart of the Sea was the first Doman vessel to make contact with the Vectorian fleet, spying the magitek-powered ships of Vector's navy approaching off the northern horizon.

'Gods, they're coming...' said the sailor who spotter the first of the ships, quietly. His captain still heard him, and raced over to him.

'What's the trouble, lad?' he asked. The terrified fisherman simply pointed at the grey shapes to the north. The captain, a former navy man and a veteran of the Doman-Veldetian war, simply gave a small grunt and pulled his telescope from his heavy leather overcoat.

'Good eyes, lad. That's the Vectorian Navy alright. Looks like a Battleship group, about 20 miles out.
Travelling maybe 15 knots?' The captain wondered, earning further admiration from his crew for staying so calm. He snapped the looking glass shut, and replaced it in his jacket.

'Well, lads, looks like we'd best get back to shore as fast as we can,' The captain said, still as calm as always.

He issued the orders to his crew: dump the fish they'd caught, abandon the nets, and get to the oars as quickly as possible, all hands. Only when all his crew were below deck and rowing, did he go to the small bridge of the vessel and pour himself a small shot of Doman Rum, and then began to steer his ship back to port as fast as his crew could row there.

***

An hour later, the crews of the Doman ships in harbour rushed to their vessels. At Port St. Martin, 3 battleships and their escorts had been waiting, the DHMS Huntsman, the DHMS Invincible and the DHMS Inverdon and their compliment of five destroyers, all of them the relatively new Executor-class for these three ships, two cruisers, and three light cruisers. Along the coast of the region of Obargalia, a further seven Doman battle groups were mobilizing: the Fearless, the Harbinger, the Samurai, the Bahamut and the three oldest battleships of the Doman navy, the Kingdom-class ships Kingdom Heart, Kingdom Soul and Royal Rose. The newest ship was the Huntsman's fifth Destroyer escort, the Mikasa, commissioned 999, the oldest was Kingdom Soul, commissioned 959, and nearing the end of her service life.

Royal Rose was the flagship of this fleet, and her commanding officer, Admiral Horatio Kovche, was an experienced commander.

Soon to face them was Vector's 3rd Battlefleet, Battlefleet Ghesthal. It was made up of it's flagshipVNS Ghesthal, the Maranda the Johan Kerral the Valiant and the Charles Pallazzo, plus their escorts: Four destroyers, two cruisers. 35 Vectorian warships against 110 Doman ships. Doma's fleet commanders were virtually laughing: All this panic in recent times had been unfounded, for Vector had sent a mere five battleships, and battleships were all that mattered!

Within another two hours, all the ships had sight of each other: and sight of the Vectorian navy, still twenty miles from the shore, and still consisting only of five battleships and their escorts. Admiral Kovche communicated to his fellow battleship commanders via semaphore. All ships were to line up and move towards the Vectorian fleet. It was approaching noon, visibility was clear, and the two fleets were eighteen miles apart. The most crushing naval defeat in history was anticipated, by both sides...

As Doma's ships surged forward, the Vectorian ships moved forth also. The Doman ships moved at the full power of their slowest ships, the steam-powered Kingdom class ships, which could reach 16 knots. The Vectorian ships merely moved at five knots. The Doman guns would be in range, five miles, in just under half an hour at those rates, the commodore of the Samurai estimated, and there, the superior firepower would outclass Vector's ships.

Less than twenty minutes after the movements of the two fleets had begun, lookout men reported the Vectorians to be firing, despite the gap being nearly eight miles

'What?' Laughed the vice-admiral of the Huntsman, a pompous nobleman called Cellan Rkik, 'Even if they have the range, they won't have the accuracy!' He bellowed, and laughed.

His crew joined in the mocking of Vector's ships, a sentiment repeated on virtually every ship bar the Royal Rose, where Admiral Kovche had silenced the first unlucky Sub-lieutenant to titter with a harsh glare. The shells fired by Vector fell about four miles short, and the crews of the Doman fleet roared with further laughter. The enemy were outranged!

However, on the Ghesthal, Fleet Admiral Hans Weinburg had calculated the shots precisely. Weinburg, the youngest Fleet Admiral of the Vectorian Navy at only thirty-five, was reputed to be a genius, famed for his ability to gauge ranges virtually perfectly. His crews had been instructed to fire at a precise range. It was a bluff he hoped would pay off in drawing the enemy into range of all his guns at once.

'Number one, instruct all battleships to fire one more volley at half range, then all ships mass guns on the central battleship. The Huntsman, I believe?'

'Yes, sir,' replied the first officer, and picked up the radio transmitter.

'All ships, hear ye, hear ye, respond that you are receiving the Ghesthal to your charges in order, over.'

Soon, the escorting ships began confirming they had heard, and the officer relayed the instructions when the other four battleships confirmed all ships had heard. A few seconds later, the ship shuddered as the two main batteries of 16 inch magitek cannon roared into life.

A further ripple four miles off, more laugher.

The ten and sixteen inch guns on the battleships, cruisers, and destroyers of the Vectorian fleet moved to aim at their new targets, and awaited the hands of the clocks to hit the minute. When they did, an immense volley of shots roared forth, and the sky seemed to fill with magitek cannonshot.

Admiral Kovche, looking at the fired shells with his telescope, noticed they were flying far higher than previous shots, and had travelled about double their previous distance before beginning to arc towards the ocean surface...
...by the gods, they did have the range.

As the Doman sailors laughed, apart form those who had made the same realisation as their fleet commander, the shells, nearly two hundred of them, sped downwards towards the Huntsman. Vice Admiral Rkik was laughing still, when an ensign on the bridge yelled out loud:

'They're going to hit, Sir!'

Rkik spluttered, angry that an ensign had been so insolent, then looked in horror at the shells, still in the air and hurtling towards his ship.

The laughter on the Doman ships turned to horror as the Huntsman seemingly evaporated under an intense hail of shelling. Roughly fifty shells had hit her hull, and the entire ship broke apart nearly instantly, the larger sections left of the hull sinking in under three minutes.

Weinburg looked sombrely at the blossoming fireball that had once been a ship and around 400 men, before giving his next order.

'All ships, select an equivalent target and bombard.'

The Ghesthal aimed for Kingdom Heart, whilst other battleships selected other opposing units. None had selected the Rose yet, and two had doubled up on the Inverdon. The next shots heavily damaged, or in the case of the Inverdon, sank nearly fifty ships, misses and double, even treble-ups, occurring, and even a case where five ships had picked the same target, an unfortunate and doomed destroyer called the Solbiz.

The firing continued every thirty seconds, claiming at least five ships a volley from then on. It was over before Doma's battleships had even managed to get into range, and the few surviving ships turned around and tried to escape. Of the 110 ships Doma had sent out, 75 had been sunk or crippled so far, and well over 8,000 sailors had died. Only two battleships had survived, the Rose and Invincible, both heavily damaged. The ragtag assembly of surviving escorts nearly all sported some damage, three of them even sinking before they could turn. Vector's firing halted as Doma's fleet retreated, and the Vectorian Fleet surged forth at their full speed. They caught up with the fleeing Domans in less than half an hour, and were now ten miles from the coast. The Doman ships tried to fight back at this point, the last remaining battery of the Rose scoring a direct hit upon a Vectorian destroyer, and a few other hits scored by other ships, but it was a last act of defiance that would doom the remaining vessels. Vector's virtually unharmed fleet, now so close that even their lighter guns were in range, promptly wiped the Doman fleet out in the next fifteen minutes.

It was nearing two o' clock, and the Vectorian navy was four hours ahead of schedule. Weinburg gave the next orders, his last for this short battle.

'All ships, observe a two minutes silence for the dead on both sides. All flags to half-mast, all engines stop. When we have paid respect to our enemies and dead comrades, we will proceed to our positions to bombard the coast, excepting those ships designated to assist in searches for survivors, and await the troopships of the Marines to catch up,' he said, his heart heavy with the slaughter he had overseen.

As the radio orders were given, he poured himself a small glass of Sherry, looked out at the hulks of the sinking Doman ships, and made a silent toast as the silence began. It was now the calm before the storm on the shores of Obargalia, the storm that would begin this afternoon, and hopefully, the Fleet Admiral prayed, with less lives ended by the Marines than the Navy had been forced to extinguish. Sailors prayed for the souls of the departed in silence, for their own souls, and for the souls of their lost comrades. It was not a true victory in the hearts of any of the victors. It had been nothing short of murder.

This post has been edited by Del S on 8th January 2006 18:09

--------------------

I am the hammer. I am the right hand of my Emperor, the instrument of His will, the gauntlet about His fist, the tip of His spear, the edge of His sword. I am His sword just as He is my armour, I am His wrath just as He is my zeal, I am the bane of His foes, and the woes of the treacherous. I am the end.

Stage Two A: Invasion plans
March 19th, Approx 1600 hours
The twelve assault ships of the Vectorian Marine Corps had arrived, and had taken up position defended by their Destroyer escorts, smaller ships than the Navy versions, and given lighter armament, but also able to carry four Vmlc-2N 'Speedturtle' landing craft, or four Vmsc-3N 'Godhammer' gunboats. The assault ships themselves however, carried a small army, to be precise, a regiment of Marines: 650 men, plus the crew of the vast ships. Of those 650, there were 25 landing craft to carry 500 men ashore, crewed by a further 75 men, and 10 of the gunboats, able to carry ten men each plus their five crewmen. The assault ships were the pride of the Marines, and it effectively gave vector the only armed forces able to stage a naval landing at short notice. In all, 5400 marine infantry would land, from nine of the ships, along with a fearsome threat: Magitek armour.

The suits the Marine Corps used were the Vm-3, Vm-4, and both variants of the Vm-5 walkers. The former two, the 5A and 5B, dedicated to mobile artillery support and close assault respectively. Each landing craft could carry up to 5 Vm-3's, 4 Vm-4's, or 2 Vm-5's of either variant. Gunboats could only carry 2 of the light Vm-3 walkers, or a single medium Vm-4. As a result, the gunboats of the three cavalry ships carried Vm-4 walkers, intended to join up with a squad of Vm-5's from a lander to form a 'Lance' squadron. Ten such squadrons would be formed, with five more landers given over for 4 Vm-3 cargos, and one more of Vm-4, forming four more squadrons. The remaining ten would carry a single Vm-5, six of them A's, four of them B's, and three Vm-3's each, forming 2 'Storm' squadrons , and two batteries of artillery. Three entire armoured divisions, 372 suits of M-tek armour in total, would be deployed at each of the three selected landing sites: Port St. Martin castle, Port St. Martin Harbour, and the smaller town of Bark-on-Lay five miles down the coast from the larger city. A total of 4000 Vectorian Marines were to be landed at the city, with 1600 landing at Bark-on-Lay.

Opposing them were the defenders of a castle, Fort St. Martin, armed with four massive artillery guns able to hurl a shell six miles out to sea, and cripple a battleship: or utterly annihilate a landing craft or gunboat. In addition to that, the fort had eight smaller guns with around half the range, and two battalions of infantry, six hundred men. Smaller artillery batteries dotted the coast, around twenty such emplacements, each defended by around a platoon of militiamen, fifty-five men on average, though desertions had been reported. In Port St. Martin, six thousand men waited, plus over four hundred horse cavalry, including a hundred of the King's Own Royal Heavy Hussars. At Bark-on-Lay, a mere two thousand, and a mere two hundred and fifty horses from the Bark-on-Lay Light Cavalry.

The Domans were armed with a ragtag variety of weapons: the most advanced rifles were in the hands of the Fort St. Martin defenders, bolt action rifles hand-made in Loma city, accurate and powerful. The in-between was a succession of either breech-loading rifles, or in some cases, even crossbows. Cavalry units carried either revolvers in the cases of the richer units, whilst the Bark-on-Lay Light carried braces of pistols. Every Doman carried a sword or a pike, most of the Hussars armed with lances.

Vector's Marines carried the Vector-Two-C, a shortened version of the Vector-Two rifle. A deadly weapon, capable in the hands of the trained marines of an immense rate of fire, for it was the most advanced rifle in the world, capable of semi-automatic fire. In addition, each had six hand grenades of the most modern type: a pin pulled struck the fuse, designed like a match-head, meaning that a lighter did not need to be carried, unlike the older grenades still used by some Army units. This was not the deadliest weapon the Marines had, and neither was their carbine: it was their training.

Hans Weinburg, supposedly equivalent to an Army General, but feeling more like a common murderer, was in his quarters as the assault ships arrived. His first officer, a captain called Paul Gardiner, knocked on his door as he watched them sailing into position.

'Admiral, General Holtzhauser-Downing of the Marine Corp and the most senior officers present will be arriving within the hour,' the captain said.

'Thank you, Paul. Tell the cook's to prepare the meal,' Weinburg said. The captain saluted and turned to leave, but was stopped by a question.

'Paul?'

'Yes, Admiral?'

'If you had been given the chance to command your own ship, even your own squadron, today, what would you have done?'

'Well, sir, I imagine I'd have listened to your orders all the same.'

'Even if I had said not to, for example, pick up survivors?'

'Well, yes sir,' Gardiner replied, not even hesitating.

'Why?'

'It would have been an order from a superior officer, sir.'

'Thank you, Paul. I shall see you at dinner.'

'Very good, sir.'

As the captain left, the young admiral resumed watching the troop ships, wondering if the soldiers aboard envied the role of the navy. To fire at a target not caring how many people would be slain, not having to se up close the destruction you had wrought... He wondered how many simply envied them for the slaughter they could deal to a foe. He stood there for some time, and, as the clock in his cabin struck five, decided to prepare for the dinner at which he would discuss the tactics to be used tomorrow, putting his dress uniform on. When he had finished, noticing he had nearly thirty minutes spare, he decided to pray again.

***

On land, the supreme commander of the Obargalia Defending Forces, had ordered that every soldier be given a rousing speech from their commanders before receiving the finest meal they could possibly be given, and officers were to dine with the men. It was an unusual move for Doma, but one that greatly roused the morale of the defending forces. Notably, however, not one commanding officer ever attacked the Vectorians for the destruction of the entire fleet, in fact, none even acknowledged the rumours. All they said, if asked, was the fleet had been forced to disengage and the Vectorians were coming, most probably in the morning. They were told to rest as much as they could. They were assured victory where the fleet had failed.

Nonetheless, the defenders of certain positions decided to stay up overnight along with the watch, and virtually every man made a quiet prayer whenever he could, or wrote letters to loved ones. Reports of desertions slowly increased as the rumours the fleet had been sunk entirely spread along the lines.

Civilians in the towns were told to stay indoors, in their cellars if possible, when the watch begun to ring bells signalling the beginning of shelling. Nonetheless, a large wave of people had begun to flee when the Navy had set sail, and only a few thousand people remained in Port St. Martin and Bark-on-Lay, not counting the soldiers. The mayor had, in the morning, been concerned there may be a breakdown in law and order, but this evening, the commander of the city guard assured him, the city would be the most lawful place in Doma: there were five soldiers to every civilian probably still in the city.

And so, as the people of the two towns worried for their men and boys, and either fled or tried to make the cellars comfortable, the soldiers of both sides had a dinner that would be the last for a good number of them.

***
General Franklin Holtzhauser-Downing, a Tzenian born product of the Marine Officer Academy in the city, was nearing fifty. His black hair, slowly greying, stubble-covered face, and the leather eye patch he wore over his right eye, seemed even more formidable to Hans Weinburg than the row of medals the General wore, or the crisp and clean green ceremonial dress of a Marine officer. It was not an effect the older man ever intended, but he was willing to exploit it.
'Fleet Admiral Weinburg. Congratulations on this afternoon's success,' General Franklin said, shaking the hand of the Admiral as his junior officers greeted their counterparts. Battleship and squadron commanders of the entire fleet, plus the various officers of the marines, had assembled on the Ghesthal for an officers dinner, and to clarify the very last details of the assault

'Thank you, General Holtzhauser-Downing.'

'Please, Admiral, we're both the same rank. Call me Franklin.'

'Very well, Franklin. Please call me Hans,' Weinburg replied, smiling.

The officers sat at the table of the officer's mess, on the Ghesthal, an elaborately decorated dining room able to seat up to a hundred, designed to be fit for the emperor for whom the pride of the Vectorian Navy was named. Indeed, twice the man himself had been in this very room, at her launch three years ago, and the night before she set sail from port at the city of Ultramarine, on her three-week voyage to this sea.

As the men in the room chattered, some marine sergeants stood guard alongside navy chiefs in a ceremonial watch. Petty Officers took the orders for starter from the officers. The actual discussion of tactics would occur over dessert, but for now, the officers merely shared tales of the days actions, and previous actions. Throughout the hubbub, the Fleet Admiral heard a few snippets of conversations:

'Nothing as troublesome as Zozo, oh no, and we had the Figaroans with us then... Utter shambles their fleet was in, sad really. Doma used to be something worthy of fear... Bloody slaughterhouse, the idiots just steamed right towards us... Bastards still kept fighting even when there was no chance... My Marines are raring to go... Ought to show the Army how it's done... A couple of my platoons organized a shooting tournament at the range to keep on their toes during the voyage...'

'It's not easy, is it, Hans?' A lone voice said. Weinburg turned to the General beside him.

'No, Franklin, it is not,' Weinburg admitted.

'I don't envy the role a ship's commander has. To know you are responsible for the deaths of hundreds every time you destroy a single enemy... I don't think I can begin to imagine how hard that must be. I think it must take a strong man to do such a thing, even for a noble cause.'

'You think so?'

'I think I know. I dreamt every night for weeks about the people I killed in my first battle. They were not pleasant dreams, Hans.'

Conversations elsewhere in the room were still talking of what was to come. Eventually, the dinner begun to be served.

Twenty minutes later, head of tactical operations, a young female Army Major-General who had came along with the marines expressly to assist with ensuring the correct ports and areas were taken for the Army's troopships, stood and walked into the middle of the room, the officers watching as two Army troopers set up a stand and some charts.
'Gentlemen, Commanders of the Marines and the Navy, as you are aware, the Doman coast at this point is lightly defended compared to a direct assault upon the capital...'

As the blonde haired woman spoke, some of the Marines and sailors on guard kept sneaking glances at her. Weinburg and the officers knew better though. This was the scourge of the Marandan rebels herself, Major-General Celes Chere, then a mere Colonel during the revolt six months ago. The Heroine of Maranda. Clearly, either Leo or Kefka had put her here to further her career, and find an excuse to ditch some of their less than adequate underlings.

After she had concluded her preamble, pointing to the key sites intelligence had identified to bombard, she awaited questions. The first came from General Holtzhauser-Downing himself.

'Major-General Chere, ' He said, causing the enlisted men on guard to quickly stop sneaking glances at her, 'what are the estimates of actual forces of Doma currently on the ground?'

'At worst, sir, intelligence estimates there is one division of Doman troops within thirty miles of the landing sites. Once a beachhead is established a counter-attack is believed likely within forty-eight hours, and by that time, Army units will be in position.'

'Major-General, which sites are the most dangerous to shipping?' An admiral asked.

'Fort St. Martin itself, sir. Intellegence states that whilst historically, capturing the fortress has been a major objective of any possible invasions, in this case, the fortress is not required and can be bombarded from range if the Fleet Admiral and General feel this would be the safest course of action.'

The questions and answers continued, gradually transferring away from the young Army woman, and to between the older men (and one female Captain) of the Marines and Navy. The invasion hour was finalised: 0700 hours, thirty minutes before dawn, following three hours bombardment from the coast. It was now 2100: Doma had only seven more hours to sleep, and ten more hours of freedom.

This post has been edited by Del S on 5th October 2005 20:53

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I am the hammer. I am the right hand of my Emperor, the instrument of His will, the gauntlet about His fist, the tip of His spear, the edge of His sword. I am His sword just as He is my armour, I am His wrath just as He is my zeal, I am the bane of His foes, and the woes of the treacherous. I am the end.

Killer, dude. Just killer. I love war. I love FF6. It really just works doesn't it? Keep writing, I'll keep reading. I can't wait to see where this is gonna go.

--------------------

I am not a drowning man!
And I am not a burning building! I'm a tumbler!
Drowning cannot hurt a man!
Fire cannot hurt a man. Not the Government Man.
All I want is to breathe
Won't you breathe with me?
~Talking Heads: Born Under Punches

Thanks for the comments MogMaster. Some familiar faces in this next part, possibly in unfamiliar roles.

Stage Two-B: Ships at St. Martin
2100 Hours, the VNS Ghesthal.
General Holtzhauser-Downing was walked back towards his ferry by Admiral Weinberg, and Major-General Chere.
'Well, I must return to my Marines as quickly as possible. I have an early start tomorrow,' the Marine general said.

'Sir, aren't the officers waking at seven to oversee the invasion?'

'No, Major-General, I'm going with them. I'll never send one of my marines anywhere I'm not ready to go myself, and let me assure you, Celes, that's a very short list of places. My ex-wife's house, for example.'

'Ah yes, my teacher at the Naval Academy warned me Marine officers often had the habit of wanting to take on the enemy themselves. Afraid we haven't got any wheels on the bottom of our ships here, or some of us would join you,' Weinburg said, grinning, 'Anyway, General, good luck in clearing the way for the army, and do try not to invade the whole country yourselves.'

'Thank you, Hans. See you later.'

Throughout this, Celes had remained quiet. Even on the short trip over the calm night seas back to the assault ship Hawk, she remained silent and calm, a stark contrast to the doubts she was having regarding the orders she had. As she and her Army escorts returned to the quarters where the rest of army intelligence contingent were, she noted with some displeasure that the other nine Magitek knights on tonight's mission were prepared to go, sitting at tables playing cards or reading books.

'Ah, Celes, welcome back. Your team is prepared to go whenever you are!' said a voice behind her, as she came in the door.

She turned to see a man who she felt looked out of place in the military uniform he currently wore.

'Thank you, My Lord General,' she replied to the nobleman.

'Come now, Celes, we're both mere servants of Emperor Ghestal. Do call me Kefka.'

General Kefka Palazzo, one of the top two generals of the army, and, it was rumoured, one of the childless Ghesthal's favourites to succeed him as Emperor.

'If you insist, My lo... Kefka,' she briefly hesitated, fearing she would either blush or tremble in terror at acting on an equal footing of a full General.

'That's better, Celes. Major Harvey, ' Kefka said to one of the other nine knights, who had been reading a small leather-bound book that Celes knew was the autobiography of Charles Palazzo, Kefka's grandfather and the man credited with having given the Vectorian federation it's life with his victory at the Battle of Terra, 'please inform Major-General Chere of the finalised teams. I must retire to my quarters soon,' Kefka said, heading for the door, opening it, and pausing to turn back to the assembled soldiers.

'Oh, and to everyone going out tonight and tomorrow: Good luck, and give them hell!' He said, saluting to a roar of approval form the soldiers.

'Major-General, there are no major changes to the mission plan, except that the XVPA's are both operational and will be assigned to each team. The ship's armourer reports he has performed the modifications you requested to your rifle, and it is with the rest of your equipment.'

'So the plan is the same: land on the beach between Port St. Martin and Bark-on-Lay, clear the two gun batteries, then head for the telegraph house?'

'Yes ma'am.'

She thanked the major for the information, no matter how pointless it had really been, and went to her own quarters. As she changed into the camouflaged clothing that the other nine knights had been wearing, the doubts came back. Was this mission truly right? Cutting the wires she could understand, but actually sending false information to draw troops into an ambush?

Perhaps General Leo had been right. Honour had finally left war, and the mismatch should never have occurred.

She inspected her rifle when she was almost finished getting ready, and she was pleased to see the modifications had indeed been done. The short sword could now fit in place of the bayonet, making the rifle a little more front heavy, but a lot more useful for her. A rifle could not work to conduit her magical abilities, but the mithril blade the armourer had converted to act as a bayonet could. She briefly regretted not having convinced any of the other knights o the mission to have had a similar service performed upon their own rifles, but then again, not all of them had more than one sword. She removed the bayonet/sword from the front of the rifle, sheathed the short sword in a scabbard at her left hand side, and put her broadsword, an Epee, standard issue broadsword of Magitek knights, into it's scabbard on the right. When her weapons and equipment were in order, she put her mithril helm on, the silver metal covered by camouflage-pattern cloth.

She walked towards the launch bay that her team was assembled at, and was pleased to see the three M-tek walker officers had embarked already, their customized Vm-2 walkers stowed in the troop bay of the landing craft. Without any further words, the crew of the lander, and the ten knights, boarded .
'God save the Emperor!' Celes said, the statement echoed by all the others in the launch bay, and the landing craft moved down it's slipway. It hit the water, and the marines piloting the craft activated the power engines of the small craft, and it sped away from the assault ship under the dull glow from the full moon...

2200 hours Port St. Martin time, 2100 hours Loma time, Loma Palace
The grand palace of Loma, in the centre of Doma's capital city, was the official residence of the king. However, in wartime, he was officially meant to be at the "castle of war", Doma castle itself. However, this required the king's retainer to officially deem it necessary, and he would only make that move when the Vectorians were twenty miles away.

Sir Cyan Garamonde, Retainer to His Majesty King Owain Doma the Ninth, General of the King's First Army, was growing worried as he sat in the telegraph office of the palace. Surely news of the fleet should have reached Loma by now?

'It is an ill omen that they take so long in sending the message from St. Martin, my lord,' Humbland Cerce, the telegraph officer and also the Royal Herald, said.

'Aye, Humbland. I fear we may be hearing of tragedy. Somewhere, I fear a clock is ticking, and it counts down to invasion,' Cyan said.

As Humbland was about to respond, one of his junior officers alerted the two men to an incoming telegraph message, which the staff , men and women, were transcribing. The brief message was handed to Cyan, who looked at the horrifying lines.

'Gods...' He said, simply, as some of the women who had been transcribing began to weep. The rest prayed to the gods, and the colour of all the faces in the room had drained upon hearing an expected, yet unexpected, news. Cyan handed the message to Cerce, and as the horrified telegraph officer began to read, the pale knight stood.

'Come, Humbland. We must inform the king,' Cyan said, his voice a whisper.

'Aye, Cyan... Gods rest their souls, the whole fleet...'

The walk to the king's throne room seemed eerily long, and eerily silent. The guards saluted, and, noting the grim looks of the two officers, offered prayers when the men were past.Cyan entered the throne room with Humbland, and approached the king's throne. He knelt down, and began to speak sombrely.

'You majesty, the northern fleet is lost.'

'Lost, Cyan?' The king said, jolting forward in the throne.

'Aye, my lord. All her ships have been destroyed by the forces of the foe, and we believe all hands lost or captured. Obargalia is readying for invasion, and I advise the King doth commune his generals and lords with haste, for there were ships sighted off St. Martin as the twilight came down,' Cyan continued.

'Gods...' King Owain gasped, 'Cyan, my retainer, make haste the arrangements.'

'Aye, my lord. Herald, send forth a summons to the lords of the land, and the lords of the armed forces,' Cyan said to Humbland, who bowed to the king, and left to send the call out. As he left, a messenger entered from the gatehouse guard.

'Your majesty, the Right Honourable Ambassador from the Vectorian Empire hath arrived, and requests an audience,' said the messenger.

'Hmph, typical of Vector, their fleet hath beaten their ambassador in declaring the war!' Cyan remarked.

'Messenger, please let the Ambassador enter,' replied the King. When the messenger had gone, the king clasped his hands over his face, and then stood from his throne, walking sombrely to the centre of the throne room.

'Cyan... What shall we do?' he said.

'My lord?' Cyan asked.

'We know little of Vector's true military power, save that it is clear they have either sent a large fleet, or their fleet hath utterly outclassed our northern fleet. What might their land forces do?'

'Well, my lord, I know their Marines are said to be well-trained and ferocious soldiers, but their Army is supposedly not up to the same standard as the Marines. They hath a new force, an "air force" but I feel that it shall be a miserable failure,' Cyan said.

'Why?' asked the King.

'Well, your majesty, it doth rely upon machines almost exclusively. No good can come from mechanizing thine army.'

The Vectorian Ambassador, Humphrey DeHaines, a fat oafish man with thinning black hair, wearing spectacles and black formal dress, entered soon after.

'Your majesty, The Vectorian Empire thanks you for this audience,' DeHaines said, bowing (or trying to, thought Cyan) and producing a letter.

'The Kingdom of Doma is happy to grant Vector the audience, though we must ask the nature of the audience.'

'My lord, I regret to inform you that it is to hand a message from the Emperor with regards to recent conflicts. I further regret to inform you that it is a declaration of the intent of Vector to launch military action against your nation, and admittance to actions we have already committed in preparation for the action,' the Ambassador said. Cyan wondered exactly how this oafish nobleman could even dare to keep so calm as he not only admitted that, yes, Vector would be attacking and causing countless deaths, but yes, Vector already had.

Despite the fact that, again, the message was an expected one, the chill in the room was unmistakable. The King took the letter from DeHaines, briefly read it, then handed it to Cyan.

'The Kingdom of Doma is greatly angered at Vector's pre-emptive strikes before the declaration of war. The Kingdom of Doma warns Vector that we shall spare nothing in repelling an unjustified attack upon our nation.'

'The Vectorian Empire was predicating such a response, and so, the Vectorian Empire would like to clarify the reasons for war,' DeHaines said.

'Is is not just wheat, then?' Cyan muttered, reading the letter.

'Pardon?' DeHaines said.

'Do not mind the Retainer of Doma, Vector. He often goes against the grain,' the King said, himself landing a small insult upon DeHaines and Vector. If the fat Vectorian noticed, he did not show it.

'The Vectorian Empire cites the recent actions of Doma's fleet to harass the commercial fishing actions of Vector's allies, The Kingdom of Figaro, and the Republics of Nikeah and Mobliz, in the Figaroan Ocean. Whilst those nations have already stated that they are happy with the resolutions of the matter thus far, Vector feels the matter still a threat to the economic stability of the Empire. In addition, we are concerned by the rumoured research undertaken in "nuclear chemistry" by Doma in conjunction with Narshe. Finally, continued Doman support for the anti-imperial organisation "the Returners" cannot be ignored any longer. If the Kingdom wishes to avert war, it must renounce nuclear chemistry, the harassment of fishing ships in the Figaroan Ocean, and also, renounce the Returners, and hand information related to the leaders of the organisation to the Empire. Furthermore, should Doma wish for peace, it must be willing to receive the Emperor and a contingent of five thousand Marines to discuss the surrender and the tribute to be paid.'

The King was silent, though inside, he was furious. It was clear Vector felt itself to be able to merely threaten another nation into dominion. Well, Owaine Doma was not going to be the last king of a free Doma, not without a fight.

'The Kingdom of Doma declines Vector's terms of peace, and advises Vector to prepare for full and unconditional war with the Kingdom of Doma,' he said angrily.

Soon after this, the Ambassador formally requested leave from the audience, and all that had changed in reality, was the king and the nation of Doma were now angrier. Offically, what had changed was, that war had begun. Unknown to either the Ambassador or the King, the first troops had landed at the very moment the audience that had seen war declared had ended, and were now heading towards their first objective.

The Doma-Vector War had officially begun.

This post has been edited by Del S on 2nd October 2005 21:58

--------------------

I am the hammer. I am the right hand of my Emperor, the instrument of His will, the gauntlet about His fist, the tip of His spear, the edge of His sword. I am His sword just as He is my armour, I am His wrath just as He is my zeal, I am the bane of His foes, and the woes of the treacherous. I am the end.

It was good. If you would be so good as to seperate the dialogue with spaces it would be easier on my eyes though. Thats all for complaints although I will say this in compliment-

I liked the reference to Cyan and his mistrust of machines. It also speaks of a bit of naivity on his part, as well as his dislike of the direction warfare and battle are going.

--------------------

I am not a drowning man!
And I am not a burning building! I'm a tumbler!
Drowning cannot hurt a man!
Fire cannot hurt a man. Not the Government Man.
All I want is to breathe
Won't you breathe with me?
~Talking Heads: Born Under Punches

Ooooo
Long, complex, lots of detailed battle stradegy. I like.
Why didn't I think of that?

--------------------

"Freedom consists not in doing what we want, but having the right to do what we ought."

"If you'll pardon my stealing of movie lines: The Force is with us"~ Ronald Reagan

"Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid." ~ Col. David Hackworth

Thanks, Mogmaster and Sherick, for the comments. I think I've taken the advice on board, MG, so hopefully it's easier to read now.

Stage Three-A: War
Battery 14, Coast between Port St. Martin and Bark-on-Lay, sometime after 2300 hours and before midnight
Battery 14 was a standard shore battery of the Doman Coastal Defence Group, and it was officially part of the 23rd Royal Doman Bombardier Regiment (Coastal Defence at Obargalia). Assisting the artillery regiment was the 118th Royal (Volunteer) Rifles, and a platoon of fifty-five was stationed around the bunkers on the cliffs that the guns were in. Five guns in total, with a range of a mile and a half, plus four batteries of three lighter field guns, two on the beach, two defending the main guns of the battery. The platoon was housed in a cramped barracks on the site, and for the men on watch tonight, most dreaded having to try and sleep in the warm and noisy building.

A young Private, Leder Fletcher, was patrolling the cliff tops, and glanced down at the six field guns below. He only saw two shapes standing, and, since it was so late, assumed the other men there were asleep. Had he looked longer, he may have seen the faint glint of moonlight on the blood covering the blackened blades of the two shapes.

As he continued his patrols for another circuit, he stopped suddenly beside the ruins of an old shed on the clifftops, a chilling wind blowing from the ocean. As he briefly shivered, he thought he saw something moving in the shadows. He briefly panicked, then challenged the blackness.

'Halt! Who goes there?'

Silence. He aimed his rifle at the shadow...
...a small shore fox ran from the shadows, a mouse in it's maw. Fletcher relaxed, and kept walking. As he passed the shed, he saw one of his fellow guards walking towards him.

'Who goes there?' he yelled at the shape, just in case.

'Private Acethin, who art thou?'

'Private Fletcher. Continue, friend.'

'And thee, comrade.'

The two men resumed walking, and as they passed, there was a sudden noise from the barracks. A single gunshot.
The two soldiers looked at each other in the dark, and, as they raced towards the noise, failed to even hear the two Vectorians behind them leap up from the grass and shoot them both rapidly in the back of the head. The Vectorian soldiers ran to the fallen bodies of the enemy, ensured they were dead with a single shot each, then ran towards the barracks, as further gunfire erupted, rapid shots from Vector-Two rifles, occasionally with a blast of ice magic from the Major-General. Remarkably, this postion, nearly eighty men including the various gun crews, had been attacked and overwhelmed not by a small army of skirmishers, but by a mere six soldiers. If there had been anyone who had lived long enough to have told this tale, few would have ever believed them.

At another battery down the coast, it had been a similar story. All the guards had been killed, all the gun crews had been killed, but in this case, the barracks had cleared by the M-tek walkers, bursting into the building and covering the entire building's interior in fire from their V3C1 20 millimetre M-tek cannons.

Major-General Celes Chere and her five soldiers crouched in a bunker, occupied by a gun and it's dead crew, and only then did she really notice the cold wind blowing in from the sea.

'Cecil, Bartz, you two move all the bodies to the barracks from here. Gregor, Jaq, you two go around the perimeter and get the bodies of the guards in. Me and Catherine will signal to the fleet, then come and help.'

The four men nodded a reply, and begun the grim task of moving the corpses of their slain enemies. The female general and the only other woman who had came on this mission, the technological expert sergeant major who even now, was setting up the signalling light. Within minutes, the small device was clicking away. Celes had no clue how it worked, and she had no plans to ask about it now. Catherine was soon finished signalling.

'Remind me, Major-General, why didn't they let us just bring a portable radio?' Catherine asked.

'I haven't a clue, Catherine. Probably to add something else to experiment with when they try this idea out again,' Celes replied, looking out at the sea.

Two brief flashes out on the sea came back in reply. The two soldiers packed the signalling device away quickly, and then assisted the clearup of bodies around the artillery position. When that was done, Celes checked her watch. Five minutes to midnight. Good, she thought, still on schedule, and plenty of time for the VNS Hades, a cruiser sporting some heavy artillery, to sail into the now clear bay to be able to land shells on the main road without fear of coming under return fire.

Loma, after 2300 hours
As Cyan was riding to his home, across the river from the palace, he came upon a small crowd of citizens standing at the gates. Upon noticing him, the leader of the group yelled out loud to Cyan. It was the leader of the opposition, a thirty year old man called Pitt, standing in the flickering torchlight with the ordinary citizenry and members of his Conservative party.
'Sir Garamonde! Doth thee have any news of the battle?'

'Nay, Lord Pitt, none that thee shan't have heard already,' he replied politely.

'Is it true, my lord?' a conservative member of parliament asked, 'Has the northern fleet truly been lost?'

Cyan briefly considered what to do. He concluded there was no honour in a lie that would be exposed the next day, even a lie that was meant to protect the people.

'I am afraid it is, Sir. All ships are feared lost, all hands feared drowned or captured.'

A murmur ran through the small group, and some of them began to pray. Others simply walked from the group, having heard what they had came for.

'I fear that is all I have on the matter, sirs and ladies. As you know, parliament is to meet tomorrow morning to discuss the issue, but for now, I fear naught good shall come of standing out on a cold night awaiting news that may not come. Please, let thee all return to your homes, we shall act in the morn,' Cyan continued.

'Very well, Sir Cyan... Gods bless ye, my lord,' said Pitt, and turned to his followers.

'I assure you, ladies and gentlemen, that we are in safe hands with the King and his generals. Sir Cyan hath good advice regarding our returning to our homes, I doth reckon, so let us disband for the night, and meet tomorrow in Parliament,' Pitt said, to agreement from his band and his party. The rest of the group walked towards the bridge over the River Times. Cyan briefly watched them go, and, when they were halfway to the bridge, smiled as they began to sing the national anthem. He gently urged his horse to trot after them, joining in with them.
'...Thy kingdom is here, our heartland shall forever live, In honour of thee, we sing,' the impromptu choir sang in almost perfect harmony, as the group crossed the river, Cyan behind them and singing with them.

Vector would find the task of defeating the spirit of Doma nigh on impossible, Cyan though briefly, as he broke off from the group to head for his home. Despite the fear he felt at the threat of Vector, the sorrow he felt at the loss of so many lives, few times before had he been so proud of his country, and sure that, no matter what happened, Vector would not find every battle so easy.

Port St. Martin/Bark-on-Lay Highroad, approx 0100 hours
The Post Office and Inn, a two-floor house with a well, stables, and six windows was quiet as the Vectorians approached. Two horses (bizarre creatures, Celes thought) seemed to be milling about in the small stables, as if they knew something the humans did not. Two watchmen, one from the City Guard, one from the Town Militia, were posted here, and both stood at opposite sides of the doorway into the Inn/Post Office. However, as far as Vector cared, this building was a telegraph station, and nothing else.

Celes caught the attention of the five soldiers with her, pointing at her eyes. She signed to the marksman of the group, Cecil, to keep aim on the doors, whilst she directed Gregor and Bartz to aim at the two men, then cover the area. She had Catherine and Jaq accompany her a few dozen yards along the road, and across as quickly and silently as possible. The three soldiers creeped around the back of the stables, and a quick glance in confirmed three horses, and a single chocobo. Continuing to the back of the Inn, Celes noted the back door to be unlit and apparently unguarded. Tapping into her magical abilities granted to her by the Magitek infusion, she used energies from fire magic to allow her to see in the blackness. It was clear, and she quickly suppressed and stopped the magic, before it gave her the headache she always got using the trick. The three soldiers moved to the back door, Celes and Jaq crouching down on the opposite sides of the doorway, and Catherine readied the fuse of a small explosive device to blast the door's lock open. She lit it, and leap back, the short fuse fizzing.

The very second the blast echoed around the area, Gregor and Bartz fired three shots rapidly into the two guards, their bodies falling as they turned their heads to look at where the noise had came from reflexively. The two soldiers leap up, each soldier watching the windows of the building, and made for the front door. As they approached it, it burst open, and a shape ran out. Cecil shot the figure, who roared in pain and fell back, firing his shotgun into the woodwork of the doorframe. Gregor and Bartz ran in.

Around the back, Celes and Jaq had done the same, checking the kitchen they had entered carefully, rifles aimed. There was creaking above, presumably in the guest rooms. That accounted for the chocobo, Celes figured. She opened the door to the darkened barroom, nothing stirring here. Jaq and Catherine followed soon. She saw two shapes, aiming rifles, and knew them to be Gregor and Bartz, heading towards the dining room of the inn. She covered the stairs as the rest of the group cleared the ground floor. Soon, all four soldiers confirmed there was no one here. The soldiers went upstairs.

'It should be guest rooms to the right of the stairwell, and the staff quarters to the right, Ma'am,' Gregor said in a whisper.
'You and Jaq go that way, the rest of us will go and check the guest rooms.
The first guest room. The door was kicked in. No one.
Screaming from along the hallway, the maids dorms. Jaq simply slammed the door shut again, and told Bartz to get the key from the owner, if he had not been shot downstairs.
The second, the third, the same. A roar and then yells from the Vectorians, as the owner of the Inn tried to resist being tied up, and the key turned in the lock of the dorm.
The fourth, seemingly nothing, but a man sat at a table in the darkness.

'Vectorian army!' Celes said.

'I know. You're early,' said the man.

'Name and business?' Celes asked, keeping her rifle trained on the man.

'Shadow, and my business is yours, I suppose,'

Shadow, Celes thought. Mercenary, murderer, all round bastard, and worse, not a valid target unless he fought. Had this been a normal raid, she could have arrested the man, but as it was not...

'Not going to arrest me? Smart girl,' Shadow mocked.

'There are unusual circumstances that mean we must let you live and escape arrest, but you stay here until we allow you to leave,' she snapped back.

'Suits me, girl. I did pay for this room after all.'

She had Gregor stand outside the open door as she went along the hallway to speak to the owner.

'This is an outrage, I demand to speak to your commanding officer!' he said in Doman. Celes replied in the same language.

'You are speaking to her, sir.'

'What is the meaning of this? Storming my inn and...' he was cut off by Celes.

'This Inn and it's telegraph post is now the property of the Vectorian Empire,' she said, bluntly.

She left the angry owner, and went downstairs. Cecil had came across the road, and stood over the wounded man in the doorway.

'Who are you?' Celes asked the man.

'Solomon Grant, Guard for the inn,' he groaned.

'Let the owner and anyone of his staff try and help him in the barroom. Gregor and Bartz are to watch them at all times. We wait for the rest to arrive before we start,' she told Cecil.

'Yes ma'am,' Cecil replied, and went upstairs to fetch the other two soldiers, and the owner.

'So, tell me, Solomon Grant,' she said, looking out of the doorway breifly before staring right at the wounded man, ' Are the people here afraid of Vector?'

In as the wind whistled through the doorway, and the faint moonlight cast a pale glow on the face of the Vectorian woman, the long bayonet on her rifle seeming to glow blue with eldritch energies, Solomon Grant was very afraid of Vector.

This post has been edited by Del S on 4th October 2005 16:27

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I am the hammer. I am the right hand of my Emperor, the instrument of His will, the gauntlet about His fist, the tip of His spear, the edge of His sword. I am His sword just as He is my armour, I am His wrath just as He is my zeal, I am the bane of His foes, and the woes of the treacherous. I am the end.

Nice closing line, nice character inclusion, and thanks for making the lines seperate. Much easier to digest.

--------------------

I am not a drowning man!
And I am not a burning building! I'm a tumbler!
Drowning cannot hurt a man!
Fire cannot hurt a man. Not the Government Man.
All I want is to breathe
Won't you breathe with me?
~Talking Heads: Born Under Punches

Stage Three-B: Final Hours.
Port St. Martin, about 0200 hours
A telegraph message arrived, having originated, it seems. It was hurriedly taken to the night commander, and from there, a lone messenger was to be sent. It simply said , mistakes and all, 'Undder attack sned help,' and the messenger had a simple task: get in sight of the town and confirm if there was an attack.

'Right lad, you have half an hour, ye hear? Ye ain't back by then, we're sendin' a squad after ye, and by gods lad , if ye aint back in half an hour, you had better be dead or ye'll wish ye were, got it?' the sergeant-major of the messenger corps said.

'Sir, yes sir!' the messenger said, urging his horse into a gallop out of the stables.

'Godspeed, lad!' the sergeant major yelled after him.

At a gallop, he'd be able to reach the halfway point in under fifteen minutes, a short ride along from the inn, and therefore see the town. The only problem with this was, the entire thing worked on the assumption the inn was now in enemy hands, and meant he should assume it to be a threat. If he was fired on from the Inn, assuming he survived, he would return.

After ten minutes, he passed the inn, two figures standing outside. They saluted as he passed, and he returned the saluted. Only when he was long past the inn did he realise. They had saluted wrongly.

He never heard the shot from Cecil's rifle, and nor did he feel it, as the bullet struck his spinal cord at the very back of his head, severing it and killing him instantly. He slumped down, and fell from his horse, which kept running.

Cecil drew the bolt back on his rifle, ejecting the spent casing and loading a new one.

'They'll send more troops when he doesn't come back, and that's the job of the marksmen and the two heavy weapons teams. The Magitek cavalrymen had best be ready too. The rest of us stay on standby,' Celes said to the barroom, now filled with six of the seven soldiers and three cavalrymen, the marksmen outside and the remaining soldier upstairs.

There was just over an hour and a half until the bombardment would begin, and another three after that until the Marines would be on their way.

***
The Hades was already in position, and had the range to land shells upon the main road. It waited on a signal from land to begin firing, though, and the gun crews dozed at their positions as the bridge crew kept watch.

***

The platoon of infantry marched behind the cavalry, as the Doman scout party moved towards Bark-on-Lay. It was now nearing half three, and the scout cavalry sped up as they neared the inn. As the scouts approached the building, a flare shot into the sky from the back of the house.

The sea lit up, as the cruiser off the shore opened fire on the road. The infantry ducked, but even then, some of the shells landed near enough to kill a few. The cavalry suffered more, though, and they surged forward towards the inn. As the shells had gone off, gunfire had came from the grass banks at the side of the road, all the scouts having been cut down. The rest of the cavalry, trying to escape the shelling, came under fire from a stream of lights, and from behind the inn, three shapes had emerged, and were charging at the cavalry, firing similar weapons. Within minutes, the entire group of Doman soldiers had been either killed, or routed, and the Vectorians were now racing back to the sea.

As the last Vectorian soldier disappeared into the gloom, the owner of the inn and his single guest watched them go, and watched the ship offshore begin to fire at the artillery batteries.

'They'll be back, old man. My advice is you and your staff just run from here,' the guest said.

'Aye,' he said, looking out at the ship as it fired again, 'What shall you d-' he said, but the guest had already gone. The shape of a chocobo soon darted from the stables, heading for Bark-on-Lay. The owner didn't notice, still watching the ship. As it neared four, he assembled his staff, and they soon were all crammed into the cart: him, his wife, the three maids, and his wounded guard. As they were about to set off, the seas lit up once more, the first moments of the bombardment beginning.

The crack of artillery fire soon filled the night sky, punctuated by the thuds of impacts. All along the shore, Doman gunners fought a losing battle, outranged by most of the Vectorian guns. In more than one area, gunners deserted their posts quickly. In some areas, the gunners kept firing, even as they knew the enemy were out of range. Only at the Fort itself had there been anything near a level playing field, hurling shells out to sea , but even the for stood little chance. Within the first half hour of the bombardment, it had been hit a number of times.

Areas that suffered heavily under the bombardment were the centres of the two targeted population centres, and the shore batteries, as well as the fort and the shipyards. To open fire was to invite the inevitable return fire, and practically every artillery battery had been destroyed, abandoned, or had fallen silent. An hour since the shells had started falling, and Vector's ships had used virtually all the energy their longer ranged guns were allowed. It was time for smaller guns to work.

Celes and her team, jubilant at a successful mission, had returned to their ship, and tried to rest as best they could with the immense noise the Navy was making. They were to report on the mission tomorrow morning to General Kefka, so Celes, unable to sleep for the noise, decided to write her report on the mission then.

***

Despite the shells landing around the city, the message escaped anyway. Another telegraph to Loma, and to neighbouring areas. It reached Loma by 5:50 local time, at which moment it became eerily accurate:

'PORT ST. MARTIN REPORTS BOMBARDMENT FROM SEA INVASION IMMINENT SEND REINFORCEMENTS WITH HASTE PREPARE DEFENCES STOP'

In the assault boats of the Vectorian Marines, it was now seven AM, March the 20th, and the Marines were on their way. Almost six thousand soldiers and nearly four hundred cavalrymen were now speeding to the Doman shore, and would land as the first tendrils of light from the rising sun came over the horizon. Bombardment was somewhat subdued: a few ships simply pumping shells into the targeted cities, gunners watching for enemy counter-fire, but nonetheless continuing. It was a lull in the storm, a quiet spell as the full force readied to strike.

General Holtzhauser-Downing and a further 79 marines, along with 2 squadrons of Vm-3 walkers, were racing towards the estuary of the River Lay, intending to move up the river swiftly as the other portions of the first wave hit the eastern beach, the central beach, estuary beach, and the western harbour. Virtually right behind them were yet more waves of troops and magitek walkers.

A young watchman, cowering in his observation tower, spotted the ripples in the black film of water that was the ocean: fast moving troopships, heading for the town. He began to ring his bell, and soldiers, already awakened early by the shelling, ran from shelters into the barricades that were still standing. The first marines to hit the ground still managed to do so without any resistance, except a brief exchange of fire between a gunboat and two shore guns, the six Doman gunners and one crewman of the gunboat becoming the first official casualties of the land war. The river platoon raced to their objective, as the other elements of the first wave moved forward.

On the eastern beach, the Marines had already reached the seafront road, encountering a group of cavalrymen coming from the town centre. The braces of pistols were no match for the co-ordinated and concentrated fire lines of the marines, and the cavalry platoon was soon cut down. Marines stormed down that route, backed up by their own cavalry, encountering a marching regiment of infantrymen. The infatrymen, after a short exchange of fire, sought cover. The battle had claimed six marines before the infantry retreated, in the face of the next wave of Vectorians.

The vast majority of Doman troops had remained in the town centre, to defend the town hall and railway station, and the town's militia had not had the foresight to watch the river. As a result, the General's platoon, and subsequent waves, slowly assembled right in the middle of the enemy lines.

Marine forces pressed into the town now, the shore firmly in Vector's hands save a few last defiant squads of Domans holed up in a house north of the central beach.

It was now nearing eight AM, and the sun was up, it's orange glow filtering through the smoke rising from the city. In King's Street, a squad of Domans attempted to regroup, their sergeant somehow keeping composed despite the bullet wound to his left shoulder.

'Sarge, they're everywhere. We had better retreat to the town hall!' one trooper wailed, keeping an eye on the streets from behind the sacks of grain he was using as cover.

A yell from along the barricade saw a hail of fire, and some return fire. Two more men fell, joining other bodies already sprawled behind the barricade.

'They've got us bloody surrounded if we don't move, sarge,' the corporal said. More gunfire, more casualties.

'Okay, lads, sod it, we're going down the riverside to the town hall,' the sergeant said The men ran from their positions, Vectorian fire slamming into the barricades as they did so. Shortly after they had escaped down the alley leading to the riverside, the barricades had grenades thrown over. Had they still been there, they would all have died then. As it stood, they fled right into more Vectorians

It was the third encounter the General's column had with the enemy, but the first that had not been an attack from the rear. It was just as swift though, every one of the Domans gunned down by the marines.

It was now half past nine according to the only clock tower still standing, and Vector's forces were in range to hear it strike, though over the din of battle, it could not be heard. Doma's lines were retreating to the town hall, and Vector had effectively taken control of all the city bar it's centre.

Only now did Vector's artillery open fire. The Vm-5A walkers elevating their guns and pounding the town centre with their long-ranged shells. Under this fire, and being forced back further and further, the defenders flew white flags at 10:53AM. It had taken just under four hours for Vector to win the first battle on land. Army units were signalled to move in via radio, a process that had required the lugging of a bulky box into the battlefield that had once been a town. The first Army ships would arrive later in the day, but for now, the Magitek cavalry units had a new objective: to support the efforts to take Port St. Martin, still ongoing according to the radio link there.

It had not been an easy task, nor had it been pleasant, but as the Vectorian flag was hoisted by the town hall, Franklin Holzthauser-Downing was reminded of why he and his men did this task. He and his squad walked into the town hall, the Marines outside singing the anthem of the empire.

'Arise, oh arise, ye sons of the allied lands. Awake to the dawn, ye soldiers of justice, of our grand Imperial Emperor, long may he reign. Through labour and hardship, victorious forever, Let Vector reign...'

The General stopped at the door of the building, turned to the troops behind him, and gave a salute. The salute was returned, and the singing intensified, the general holding the salute for some time. Mission accomplished.

This post has been edited by Del S on 15th December 2005 11:22

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I am the hammer. I am the right hand of my Emperor, the instrument of His will, the gauntlet about His fist, the tip of His spear, the edge of His sword. I am His sword just as He is my armour, I am His wrath just as He is my zeal, I am the bane of His foes, and the woes of the treacherous. I am the end.

Stage Three-C: Two battles
House of the People, Houses of Parliament, Loma, 0950 hours
As the battle drew to a close in Bark-on-Lay, and continued in Port St. Martin, a different sort of battle was beginning in Loma, a battle of blame. The Conservative Party had supported the Liberal government in their stance on defence, which saw the preservation of tradition over efforts to modernise. Our forces are sufficient to hold against any conventional attack and able to fight any war we may be drawn into, the Prime Minister, Leonardo Booth, had said when it had been debated in parliament. However, the Labourers and Unions party, along with the National Progression party, had heavily criticised that approach, and also found it abhorrent the Armed Forced had always planned an invasion to come at Obargalia from Vector, placing twenty battleships in defence of the capital and only twenty more at the rest of the coast. The government had reasoned that the capital required the greatest defences of all, the smaller parties had reasoned the government wished to trade the lives of soldiers and civilians in the areas likely to be attacked to prevent their homes being damaged.

'The Government has allowed this mess to occur, and even now, they do not tell us the facts! It is a travesty that the Vectorian fleet was able to bat our fleet aside so easily, and it is even more of a travesty that of the thirty battleships we have left, none are being sent to engage the Vectorian fleet!' an MP of the Progression party yelled.

'That's because Vector might still attack other areas, and if we move even five ships from any place, we're wide open, you oaf!' someone else yelled. The house exploded in uproar, until the speaker slammed his gavel down.

'ORDER! We are not here to argue, Gentlemen, we are here for a purpose, and that is to decide what course of action shall be taken to react to this threat.'

'The threat should have been over by now had the government had the foresight to act three weeks ago!' yelled the previous Progression MP. The gavel slammed again

'Another such out burst from the honourable member for Port St. Martin and you will be ejected from the proceedings!' the speaker yelled, before realising the error of his statement. He continued, feeling it necessary 'The house recognises your cause for anger, but we cannot allow such outbursts.'

At that moment, the trumpet call for the king blew, and all in the house stood. The king entered swiftly, the cabinet in tow, along with the Nine Generals of the Armed Forces and the Eight Lords of the Land, and his retainer. This did not total eighteen men, as some lords were also generals, and Sir Cyan was also the second general of the Army. The king took the stand in the centre of the house straight away, causing murmurs amongst the members of the house.

'Honourable members of the House, I bring grave news from the front,' the king said, grim-faced yet keeping his voice calm and level.

'Five hours ago, we received word that Port St. Martin was under fire from the sea, and the commanders there believed invasion was imminent. '

'Less than one hour ago, another message arrived from Bark-on-Lay. Vectorian troops have already landed at the town, and we believe also the city of Port St. Martin to be under assault also. '

'People of the house, I regret to inform you that local commanders did estimate enemy forces would have encircled the town centre of Bark-on-Lay by approximately ten AM local time: that is now. We have had no word from Port St. Martin, but what is clear is, that Vector's armed forces have landed in Obargalia.'

Shock. Disbelief. First the horror of the fleet, and now the horror that troops had already landed and possibly already cleared the way for further troops? Was Vector so powerful?

'I now hand over to my Prime Minister, the right honourable Leonardo Booth,' the king concluded as the house fell silent.

'Gentlemen of the house... It is with a heavy heart I come before thee today, for my part in this disaster is great,' the Prime Minister said, his voice trembling slightly as he said the last sentences

'The immense loss we have suffered has shaken my faith in myself, and I am sure, destroyed the faith of the people in me. For ten years I have served in this office, and never before in the history of this kingdom have we suffered such crushing blows.'

'It is, in part, due to the powerful forces of the enemy, but also due to errors in the positioning of forces. I must apologise for, and confess to, having blocked an effort by the Admiralty to post five further battleships from the Southern Capital Fleet, to the Northern Fleet, six weeks before Vector's parliament voted to send their fleet into our waters... '

'This was a grave error on my part. In addition, I and my party did vote against the formation of a war cabinet, and against asking Narshe and Thamasa for assistance, and we must apologise to those who had voted for the motion for our error, and I thusly have informed the king there shall be no moves to oppose the formation of a war cabinet again. '

As a result, his majesty has informed me that the house shall now take a vote upon the formation of a war cabinet by his majesty, effective immediately after the vote has been passed should it pass,' the Prime Minister concluded. Another murmur ran through the house. The speaker tapped the gavel lightly, and the chatter halted, as he begun the law-required request to be told what the king desired.

'Under the emergency war powers act, 887, 'tis possible for the Monarch to immediately dissolve the cabinet and replace it immediately with a War Cabinet. The War Cabinet may be composed of any Doman citizenry that the monarch doth believe to be of use during time of crisis. Does His Majesty wish to enact this power?'

'Aye, noble speaker, His Majesty does wish to use this power, after a vote to the House of the People,' said the King, concluding the legally-required ceremony. After this vote, such things would not be needed.

The vote was unanimously in favour of the formation of a war cabinet. The King announced he would finalise the details of the cabinet by six o clock this afternoon. The floor was then given for the next hour to the generals of the armed forces. They were questioned as to why the shore defences of Obargalia had not been up to the task of repelling naval assault: they answered that the fleet had not expected the Vectorian advantage, presumably in technology. They were asked if machine guns were in the arsenal of the defending forces: they were told there were none in any of the Obargalian forces arsenals. They enquired as to the positioning of artillery regiments in Obargalia: The 23rd Royal Doman Bombardier Regiment was arrayed along the coast of Obargalia, and presumed defeated or in combat. The port town of Eximco, A few miles north of the boundary of the neighbouring dukedom of Krastoma, had not reported any unfriendly ships, though the two squadrons of Destroyers assigned to the area were currently supposed to be returning to port. Obviously, the battleships that had been stationed in Port Presia in Krastoma had been lost, and the only five battleships remaining in the northern seas were those of the southeastern defence fleet, based at Saipley in Halania, though the group routinely patrolled the entire coastline of the dukedom. The remaining two artillery regiments were in the Ranarok area, defending the smaller towns and villages there, along with the majority of other forces in the area not in combat or the Eximco area. A question was asked of the border defences in the region: The Nikehan border defences had, at the moment, not reported any problems, though their surrender was likely if Vector drove to the coast and cut them off from the rest of the country. What Nikeah would make of having a border with Vector was anyone's guess, though it was likely that supplies and possibly even troops would be allowed to be sent from Vector to the front via Nikeah. After an hour of such questions, the Vectorian Ambassador had arrived, and, with two marines from the embassy guard flanking him, took the floor. He ignored the angered looks and whispered curses, as did the two marines, armed only with VP2 Automatics. Such a situation was normal procedure to ensure the safety of a visiting ambassador, for once, a member of parliament had shot a Figaroan Ambassador as he spoke to parliament, starting a bitter naval war with Figaro, and ultimately causing the Doman Empire to lose Nikeah and Mobliz. As Vector's Ambassador to the kingdom spoke to the government of Doma, Vector's soldiers still fought in the north of the country.

Port St. Martin, Civic park
Vectorian Marines held the park, docklands, part of the central city, and so far, three out of six of the cities gates. The reinforcement cavalry had halted at the inn awaiting the signal to storm the fourth gate. Roughly half the city remained in the hands of Doman troops, fierce defences mounted at the Bark-on-Lay gate, the North gate, Central Station, Gallowgate Barracks, and the Sheriff Court. The vast majority of the cavalry forces had swept the city smashing smaller pockets of resistance as the Marine infantry engaged the larger pockets, and here, in Civic Square, there had been the only clash between cavalry forces, the remaining encounters having been infantry of the Marines slaughtering the Domans, or the Doman infantry being slaughtered by Marine cavalry. Here, the hundred men of the King's own plus a hundred of the local cavalry had charged at Vector's troops moving into the park, forcing the infantry back with severe casualties. Marine Magitek units soon engaged the enemy, five lance squadrons and a storm squadron driving the entire Doman cavalry line into the park, where it was wiped out by combined cavalry and infantry assaults. The battalion of riflemen in the park had also been defeated during that clash.

At the Fort, Vectorian forces had breached the outer walls, the inner walls, and now surrounded the keep, Marines engaged in a firefight with Doman defenders.

The reinforcement cavalry were told to move forward, the radio message having been relayed to them by a messenger. They surged forth to the city gates, and, within ten minutes, the defenders there found themselves under attack from both sides. The fortified gatehouse was pounded by Magitek cannon shells, and the cavalry soon breached the gate, and breaking into the defences surrounding it and preventing access from within the city. The cavalry soon encircled the defending troops, who surrendered.
The attack was repeated at the remaining two gates half an hour later: the cavalry that had moved from Bark-on-Lay taking the Gallowgate, the division that had attacked the fort moving to the Southgate. The cavalry in the city would support efforts to pincer the defenders. This succeeded, and, as it neared three o' clock, the Vectorians had the city centre encircled, and only one room held out in the fort. A massive assault on the city centre drove the Domans back to St. Martin's Cathedral, the centre of the city, and where their commanders were. Faced with the inevitable, the white flag was flown as the first shells struck the cathedral. At the same moment, Marines breached the last room of the fort, and killed the twenty-five soldiers who had held out. It was over.

Seven thousand, nine hundred and twenty Doman soldiers had died in the last 24 hours of bombardment and fighting. The remaining Doman troops were either captured or wounded. In return, only 325 Vectorians had died. Of greater importance, Doma had lost the first three battles of the war, and now, Vectorian Army forces would land and break out from the beachhead. The Marines and Navy would wait for their next task, when the Army reached Eximco, but for now, they held the beachhead, and allowed the Army to flood into Doma. By nightfall, there was a brigade of the Army in Doma, and that Brigade was to move to the border at first light, and either force the surrender of the border regiments, or take the border by force.

--------------------

I am the hammer. I am the right hand of my Emperor, the instrument of His will, the gauntlet about His fist, the tip of His spear, the edge of His sword. I am His sword just as He is my armour, I am His wrath just as He is my zeal, I am the bane of His foes, and the woes of the treacherous. I am the end.

Edit

Small note here, the story will have a few reminding updates in it, as well as occasional "factual" drivel.

CASUALTIES as of 22nd of march
Doma: over 17,000 KIA, upwards of 5,000 wounded + captured, around 2,000 unharmed POW's
Vector: 347 KIA, 430 wounded, no wounded + captured, no POW's
Civilian: Approx 165 killed, 328 wounded, 67 arrested.

Vectorian predictions for the 1st of April
Doma: Over 60,000 KIA, upwards of 20,000 wounded or captured
Vector: 1500 KIA, 2000 wounded, no POWs
Civilian: 300 KIA, 600 wounded, 150 arrested.

Stage Four-A: The 22nd of March
Port St. Martin, 22nd of March, City Hall (Vectorian Command HQ) 0800 hours
General Leo Christophe sat at the table in his quarters, not too concerned that his breakfast was getting cold. He was reading the various telegraph messages that had come form the Emperor via the cable which led to Figaro. Of course, this had meant the message had to be relayed by ferry to Nikeah (as Narshe was highly likely to have intercepted the messages) and he was happy to note the invasion had exceeded the expectations of the Emperor, greatly pleasing him.

General Kefka himself had led a brigade to the border, receiving the unconditional surrender of the one thousand and two hundred border guards. Vectorian forces held over two hundred square miles of Doman territory, and tomorrow, when the remainder of Kefka's forces had arrived, Leo, Kefka or Lieutenant-General Salis' forces would move to engage the Doman forces north of Ranarok. Leo and Kefka were interested to see how the young nobleman would handle the Domans, but had not yet agreed if one of them had better take the challenge, leaving Eximco for the young man, a battle both were sure would be far easier due to the support of the marines.

This problem was not the biggest one facing General Leo. No, his biggest at the moment was he didn't have a bloody clue what the Domans were saying. Some of the upper class ones could speak Figaroan, and he was fluent in that language (with something of a Rosen accent, he had been told by the king of Figaro), but damn it, he hadn't any translators of his own left. He'd given all twenty-three officers he had able to speak Doman other assignments, and so, he'd asked Kefka for one. Kefka had been unable to reply to the request so far, having been preoccupied with disarming the border and ensuring that Nikeahn forces were happy with the security arrangements at the border. Plus, there were the rumours... He had heard that it was said amongst the rank and file that this war would decide who would become Ghesthal's successor, and the two prime candidates were himself and Kefka. Leo was sure that Kefka, more politically inclined than he, would probably aim to impress during the war, whilst Leo would not abandon his principles. Meaning it was likely that Kefka would decide to attack Ranarok and effectively take control of all of Obargalia as Salis took Eximco.

As he put the telegrams down and picked up his knife and fork, there was a knock at his door. It was his batman, a corporal called Samuel Pitney. He entered, and saluted

'Sir, Major-General Chere is here to speak to you.'

'Very well, Corporal, send her in,' Leo said. The NCO saluted once more, left his sight as he walked along the corridor, and returned with the Major-General. She entered, carrying her helmet under her left arm and carrying a letter. Leo was a little confused at first, but he realised she was probably here from Kefka for something.

'Sir, General Kefka has transferred me to your command to assist you in translation duties,' she said, handing the letter over.

Leo opened it, and as expected, it was the signed document stating that General Kefka Palazzo had transferred Major-General Celes Chere to the command HQ of General Leo Christophe, citing the latter having a manpower shortage in officers able to speak Doman and, unexpectedly, Leo also noted the sentence 'lacking staff with experience in Specialist Forces operations' finishing the reasoning.

'Well, Major-General, welcome to my staff. I have a question though: what does "specialist forces" mean?'

'It's... It is an idea of General Kefka's, sir. A small group of well-trained soldiers which uses stealth to move behind enemy lines and damage their efforts to defend against attack,' she said.

'So, basically just modern skirmishers? Interesting. Does he have a unit trained in such tactics?'

'Yes sir, I was in command of it until this morning. It was fifteen strong, all magitek knights, and there are a further nine people trained to the levels of the current unit in the forces in Doma.'

'So Kefka has sent you to form a unit in my forces equivalent to his own? '

'Yes sir.'

'Well, Celes, you can deal with that when you wish, but for now, I need a translator,' Leo said, 'But first, I think I need breakfast.'

Mobliz, 22nd of March, 0900
'How is it going up north, Adam?' said the local man sitting at the table.

'You know we can't discuss something like that on the record, Alex,' the foreign man said.

'I know. It's not official.'

'Then it's going well. Vector's poised to have the entire region of Obargalia in their control by the end of the month.'

'When do they expect we can get what we want?'

'Within two months. Vector only requires the grain and mineral wealth. Mobliz can take the rest of it's oil itself.'

'The Emperor is most kind to sanction our small incursion...'

'Small, Alex? You have plans to mobilise nearly a hundred thousand men to the border from across the country within 4 days, supported by a further two hundred thousand. You'll use more soldiers to take one region that Vector hopes to use in the entire war.'

The local man was impressed. Vector's spies had done very well.

'We haven't got our forces to a standard where we can plan to only use about a hundred and fifty thousand out of half a million to defeat up to a million enemy soldiers, I'm afraid. '

'You'll outnumber the Domans about ten to one if you attack at the right time!'

'That's the idea. When you've got them down to ten thousand men on the border area we want, we go in. '

*****

The Vectorian army is structured a little differently from the Marines. Whilst the Marines had regiments of 650 riflemen , the army had regiments of 1000 men: squads of ten in platoons of six squads with 100 men assigned to twenty-man heavy weapons platoons of 5 guns, making three rifle platoons to every heavy weapons platoon. 4 infantry regiments were part of a division, 4 rifle units. A command section consisting of main officers, engineers and military police was attached to each division, a further 1000 men, and there were four cavalry regiments attached also.

The Army organised into 5 of Vm-3 a squadron, with 5 squadrons a platoon. Three Vm-3 platoons existed per regiment. Vm-4/Vm-5B squadrons consisted of 4 Vm-4's and a 5B, with five a platoon, forming one platoon. The remaining platoon was usually of 20 Vm-2's and 5 5B's, giving a mere 125 per regiment, but 500 m-tek walkers per division. The Army's artillery was attached solely to the 2 artillery regiments per division. Each cavalry regiment had 1000 men, including support staff.

An artillery regiment consisted of 5 batteries of 5 light guns with 5 men per gun, 125 men, 3 batteries 3 heavy guns, 7 men a gun, 2 batteries 3 mobile guns, 5 men a gun and 1 infantry support platoon that consisted of 120 men, plus 12 officers, to give 350 men a regiment. 9700 men per division, 2 divisions a corps, 2 corps a army, giving 38,880 men per army, and there were three armies: Leo's 1st Army, Kefka's 2nd army, and Salis' 5th, along with the 1st Marine Corp and 3rd fleet. In total, it was a quarter of Vector's military forces. Ten years earlier, the invasion would have required half or more.

Vector had landed, or in the case of two of Kefka's 2nd Army divisions, planned to land 12 divisions for the three armies assembled by the end of the day. 116,640 soldiers, with another division scheduled to arrive for each army by the month's end, 145,800 men. Plus around 9,000 marines on shore, Vector would have just over 150,000 men in Doma, against a very large Doman defence force. Organised into haphazard armies of an average of 45,000 men, Doma had eighteen armies including militia army groups, around 800,000 men. Five armies defended the capital-region, two armies for each other region, except the two moblizian border regions of Habania and Hagania which had two and a half.

However, despite outnumbering the Vectorians around 4 to 1, only a quarter of the forces had bolt or even lever action rifles. Only half had breech loading rifles, and the remainder had crossbows. Most of those crossbow regiments were in the initial path of the Vectorian army, and Doma was racing an unexpected gift northwards as fast as it could. Simple and cheap breech loading rifles made in Narshe almost two thousand of them and 150 rounds for each rifle, along with around five thousand mercenaries. The mercenaries were mostly Returners, veterans from fighting in Zozo and Mobliz, and well prepared to take on Vectorians. The mercenaries and rifles would have arrived far faster had the Doman war cabinet not became bogged in an argument the Vectorians, had they found out of it, would scarcely believe.

A faction led by General Cyan Garamonde had questioned the honour of using the mercenaries, and of using the cheap machine-produced Narshean rifles. The rifles, Garamonde had reasoned, would be dangerous to Doman soldiers as they had been built not only in Narshe, a land who had only supplied the weapons as they knew Vector would invade them next no matter what. He had already lost a battle against distributing the firework launchers Narshe had sent and was unwilling to lose a battle over dangerous weapons that would pose a danger more than once. Another faction had supported not only the distribution of the rifles, but also the manufacturing of more of the simple box magazines that had came with each rifle.

The rifle in question, the Narshe Mass Produced Combat Carbine, was a very simple weapon. A bullet was placed in the chamber, the breech cover slid over, and the trigger was pulled, firing the round. It was then pulled back open, the ejection lever struck, and the next bullet put in place of the ejected cartridge. The box magazine kept the cover open, and the ammunition was simply pushed into place. It held up to eight rounds at one time with the magazine, and had no safety. It was incredibly cheap, only around 75 gold pieces a unit, compared to almost 350 GP per Vector-Two rifle, and even 100 GP per most crossbows. A rifle that cost as much as a simple dirk in terms of material and pay for the smith, plus maintenance for the machine, for one man could operate a machine, producing one rifle an hour, working eight hours a day. Material per rifle cost 30 GP, plus 5 GP a rifle to maintain the machine, each smith paid 40 GP an hour or 320GP an ordinary day.

Perhaps the distrust of Narshean machinery and smiths was founded somewhat, but the snobbery that a 75 GP rifle was up against a 350GP rifle was another factor. Or, 750 Doman Yen versus 350 Vectorian Dollars.

However, the fact remained, the Narshean weapon had a better rate of fire than it's Doman counterparts, and required a minimum of training to operate, the new ammo to hand rather than in pockets or webbing.

The king had been forced to overrule Cyan in this case, but Cyan knew that meant the next disputed decision would almost certainly go his way.

But there were 90,000 Doman soldiers in Obargalia, ten thousand of whom had been captured or killed. Over half of them were around Ranarok, 35,000 at Eximco. Casualties were soon to mount, and after the inevitable defeat at Ranarok, Doma's forces would suffer an even more crushing blow: the denial of hope.

Possible spoilers: highlight to view

A note on GP: 10 GP is worth about 1 US dollar. Why does dried meat cost 15 dollars to strangers? There's a war on! Rationing for the troops!

This post has been edited by Del S on 9th January 2006 22:49

--------------------

I am the hammer. I am the right hand of my Emperor, the instrument of His will, the gauntlet about His fist, the tip of His spear, the edge of His sword. I am His sword just as He is my armour, I am His wrath just as He is my zeal, I am the bane of His foes, and the woes of the treacherous. I am the end.

I'm reading em, so keep writing em.

--------------------

I am not a drowning man!
And I am not a burning building! I'm a tumbler!
Drowning cannot hurt a man!
Fire cannot hurt a man. Not the Government Man.
All I want is to breathe
Won't you breathe with me?
~Talking Heads: Born Under Punches

Stage Four-B: A change of plan, a change of rules.
Port St. Martin 22nd of March, City Hall (Vectorian Command HQ) 1100 hours
As Leo and some of his subordinates discussed the planned unit Kefka had virtually established in Leo's army, there was a knock at the door.

'Enter,' Leo said. It was Kefka and two of his brigadiers, along with lieutenant-general Salis.

'Good morning, Leo. Having a tactical debate?' Kefka said.

Leo smiled, and replied.

'Of sorts, Kefka, of sorts. Talking about the idea you sent along with the Major-General this morning.'

'Ah, yes. Meant to say we'd get all the higher-ups together to speak about that one. Oh well. Anyway, Joseph here,' Kefka said, point at Salis, 'reminded me of something. The Domans can cover sixty miles in a day if they force-march.'

Kefka spread a map over an easel in the corner, which had been empty. It was of Doma.

'Now, we have, according to our intelligence, two armies per region of Doma, with some exceptions: five around Greater Loma, and an extra half-army for each of the border regions. Now, Doma has 90,000 soldiers right now in our current theatre, and they'll be moving troops north.'

Kefka placed pins on the map, representing enemy armies.

'According to my intelligence officers, they plan to move an army north from Loma into Elloroma, and reunify the half-armies at the border and move them up to Krastoma.'

'Making three armies across the border of the region we hope to hold,' Leo said.

'Exactly. Now, we can deal with that easily, but I'm thinking that whatever attack we launch on Ranarok, another army is going to need to be right behind it because the Domans are coming right over with two or more armies... And by the time we attack, they'll have the reinforcements in place or near enough to counter-attack.'

'Excuse me, sir, but don't we need to wait at least two days to launch the attack?' Celes asked.

'Yes. Why do you ask, major-general?' Leo replied.

'It's just it seems to me they won't be waiting for our attack at all, they'll be attacking at the same time.'

'You mean you think this is a counter-attack that will be launched either before or with our attack?'

'No sir, I think they plan to extend the leapfrog moves. The army that moves north moves another army north, and then, that means the Ranarok army, along with a new army, moves north to us. They plan to defeat us nowhere near Ranarok.'

Kefka looked at the map again, thinking.

'...She's right. It's possible, and the Doman's belive attacking is the best form of defence too. They'd probably expect us to engage near Wen Ryok,' he said, pointing at a town twenty miles north of Ranarok on the map,

'Well, that assumption changes a lot. What do you think should be done?' Salis asked Leo.

'I think we should place elements of two of our armies there, and keep reserves here able to repel the counter-attack. Say, an entire army and a half at Wen Ryok, plus a half-army and some marines to attack Eximco?'

'It's possible to do, a half-army and the marines could handle the troops meant to be in Eximco. Question is, what kind of counter-attack will the Domans hurl at us?' Kefka asked.

One of his Brigadiers had the hypothetical answer.

'Doma's likely to move the northernmost armies in Krastoma and Elloroma north, that's the 6th and 14th. Both those armies are commanded by fairly competent officers, and they're mostly equipped with breech-loaders. Also supposed to have some of Doma's machineguns with them, sir.'

'It's what I'd do, but then again, I'm not a Doman.'

'Which is lucky for us,' Leo said.

'Lucky for me, more like. A genius with tactics can still be ripped to shreds by an idiot with training and technology, and the army we've landed has a severe shortage of idiots,' Kefka replied.

'There's a few thousand of the Marines here though, sir,' someone said. The officers erupted in laughter.

***

Loma, The Ministry of Defence, 1000 hours local time
Cyan and the other generals of Doma reviewed the planned movements.

'So, assuming the Vectorians will be busy consolidating and preparing to move on Ranarok, our forces heading north will hit them near Wen Ryok. '

'Aye, but I feel that the two armies sent north may need some supplement from the Ranarok defence forces. I say we issue as many of the Narshean rifles to the Ranarok lads as they can take, but, and we need to act quickly here, have the Ranarok commanders form as many Militia units as possible and then re-equip those militia with any of the rifles we have left and the crossbows that have just became surplus.'

'I'd rather we did not use the rifles.'

'Cyan, we are using them, so we might as well use the spare weapons. Ranarok has the men we can enlist, and that means we can have nearly 20,000 extra conscripted soldiers to defend it. Then, that means we can move some of the enlisted soldiers at Ranarok to supplement the counter-attack.'

'Why? Why not just leave them at Ranarok? The counter-attack already has 110,000 men! If they are defeated, Vector will have lost most of an army in the process, and then... They have not got the ability to fight off our mercenary friends if they do manage to take Obargalia. They'll have lost an army at least in practice, because the occupation forces will be fighting the mercenaries.'

Cyan was still outraged at that. Those foreigners had came simply to fight Vector, not to fight for Doma. And now? There was talk of using their tactics. Ambushing, sabotage, cowardice, dishonour. Not as long as he was a General, not as long as he was a live would he let Doma's name be dragged through the mud. He had not fought in the Mobliz war for Doma to be batted aside by men armed with machines, nor was he going to let foreign mercenaries come and ambush in his countries name.

'Fine then. Order the conscriptions. But bear in mind, they're untrained, might not know how to use the bows, won't work as units. They'll be an unruly mob,' Cyan said, ready to walk out of the room to report to the king. At the door, he turned towards the generals.

'But I hope to the gods you can live with yourselves when you have thrown their lives away.'

He walked out, the other generals remaining silent. The smoke from the cigars hung in the air, and for a long time, it felt like no one dared to speak...

Twenty miles offshore of Port St. Martin
However, traditional warfare was dying even as Cyan reported the war efforts to the king. More Vectorian fleet units had arrived, but a completely new ship was sailing towards Eximco. It was new, only launched last year, and it was the first of it's class. It was also an entirely new type of ship.

It was a very unusual ship. Instead of bristling with guns like a battleship, it had a flat and fairly wide deck. A single boxy section stood up from the flat deck, about four storeys high.

The flat deck itself was made up of what looked like large doors, in rows. There was about the width of a door between each of the sixteen rows, and six doors a row, with the exception of the last six, larger doors. There were only three doors a row there.

It carried 78 naval variants of Vector's newest weapons. It was the world's first Aircraft carrier. Six cargo airships, twelve bombers, and sixty fighters. Behind it, heading for land, was an unusual set of cargo vessels. They carried, basically, an entire new branch of the military. Three of them were conventional enough, carrying 500 soldiers, but also fifty cargo aircraft. The other three were far different. One carried 120 bombers. The other two carried 120 fighters.

It was the 1st Air Force Division, and, other than the still-forming 2nd division's one completed regiment of fighters, was the entire Vectorian Air Force. The newest branch of the world's most powerful army, and the newest parts of the world's most fearsome navy, were sailing towards their objectives. The Air Force, to land and to set up an airbase. The navy, to Eximco, to support the fleet attack, and announce to the world the change in the rules of war.

Airborne forces were going to make their mark.

--------------------

I am the hammer. I am the right hand of my Emperor, the instrument of His will, the gauntlet about His fist, the tip of His spear, the edge of His sword. I am His sword just as He is my armour, I am His wrath just as He is my zeal, I am the bane of His foes, and the woes of the treacherous. I am the end.

Stage Four-C: Parry the blow

'The Imperial Soldier is well equipped and well trained. He has the finest armour of any line trooper in the world, and his steel helmet protects him from enemy fire. His rifle is accurate and powerful, and his sword is made of the finest imperial steel. He wears olive green fatigues, so as to conceal himself in the green grass and the forests better. '

-Text from an Imperial Army Orphanage Schoolbook printed 988. The IA Orphanages produced over 80% of the Magitek Knights.

Eximco Harbour, 1200 hours, 23rd of March
The eight destroyers sitting in the harbour did not show sings of activity. Whilst two of the ships were not present, patrolling the waters of the area, these eight ships simply sat idle.

The first of the ten ships to die was a ship called the Vigilant, spotted by a Vectorian scout flyer, and then, followed by bombers. It never knew what hit it as the Vectorian airships swung in, dropping bombs across the ship's hull. Her sister, and the parent of her class, the Executor, died shortly after in the same manner.

All this had happened within an hour, and the rest of the Naval Air Force was lining up to strike the harbour itself, at the very same moment the Imperial army was to move forward, and that attack would happen on the 24th, Army units already moving into position and Naval based forces, Marines and Soldiers on ships, were moving into place also.

However, at Wen Ryok, the defenders had begun to dig in. Virtually all night, they had been digging, building trenches and earthworks to expand a system of trenches that was already there. At the moment, only twenty thousand men were there, but it had established the defences from which the other two armies could launch the counter-assault, and form a second line of the Ranarok defences The two armies had met, and, were now probably passing Ranarok.

But they had been marching virtually non-stop, and in the event of an enemy attack, the fighting effectiveness of the three forces to be used would be severely hampered: 50,000 at Ranarok, almost half of it recently-conscripted Militia, 90,000 marching soldiers, 70,000 of which who were set to attack the enemy, the plan being to hit the army moving towards Ranarok in open battle, where Doman commanders were confident the magitek walkers would be slow and out-manoeuvred. 40,000 men would defend the trenches at Wen Ryok.

Counting the 35,000 at Eximco, and the ten thousand soldiers killed or captured, Doma now had just over a quarter of it's land forces committed to the war, just like it's enemy.

The day would otherwise be uneventful. When the Destroyers failed to return, two more would go out, searching for them, but staying together. By Midnight, Doma's four destroyers had been sunk, and the next day, the other four would sail out, to the same fate, before it had even reached eight o' clock: The time the Army was set to march onto Wen Ryok, An Army-and-a-Half, 57,000 soldiers of the Empire. At Eximco, 8,000 Marines from the sea, along with 4,000 Soldiers, and 15,000 attacking from land. Vector had 30,000 troops in reserve, 8,000 keeping the peace in the captured territory, under the command of General Leo, but when Obargalia was secure, the 8,000 Marines would hold the area and the peace, Kefka wishing to hold the border with the region of Krastoma until the 4th Army, currently commanded by General Ben Ralford, could arrive and move in to defend it, and also donate 8,000 soldiers to police Elloroma for whenever it had been captured. As a result of the need to wait for further troops to allow all three of the attacking armies to move, The Empire would wait until the 4th of April before any moves over the Obargalian border would be taken, striking at Gichaog.

Ranarok, Noon
The dark blue mass of soldiers, wearing the overcoat that was the uniform of Doma's army, formed a massive line that could be seen from the city, covering the entire highway. The army had been marching from before dawn, and the fatigue in the faces of the men was clear. They would rest for one hour, having lunch, before resuming their march. They could cover thirty miles in six hours, and the previous day, had marched 80 miles, the last twenty of those miles covered under darkness between eight and midnight. They only had around 20 more miles to go, and could rest from seven until five AM the next morning, for the march to Vectorian-Held territory from Wen Ryok was a mere 10 miles, or 2 hours. That meant they would attack at around eight.

The plan had been that 20,000 soldiers would supplement the defences at Wen Ryok, including all of those who had sprained ankles or otherwise injured themselves and as a result been forced to hitch rides on the baggage trains. It had been surprisingly few.

As General Gulf Ozzel watched his army halt for their brief rest, he daydreamed of the glory he would experience. He was brought back to reality somewhat by his second-in-command, a colonel called Deodatus Hunt.

'It is a stirring sight, sir.'

'Indeed, Deodatus. Such a display makes one feel pity for the enemy, very nearly,' the general replied. He paused.

'I do wonder if the rank and file are as eager to get to grips with the steelheads...'

'Wouldn't know, Sir,' the colonel replied,'

He stood there for some minutes, watching the massive horde of soldiers come to a halt, before he urged his horse to canter towards a small group of junior officers. The lieutenants, captains, and even a few majors, saluted the General.

'At ease, men. Tell me, what is the chatter in the ranks?' the general enquired. A Major replied

'Well, sir, the men appear to be reasonably enthusiastic about the chance to fight the enemy, though the few I asked were rather tired from marching.'

'But on the whole, they are in good spirits?'

'It seems so, my lord.'

'Capital. And the officers?'

'Well, of course, sir. The steelheads can't invade our land and expect to live long,' a captain said.

However, even as the officers allowed their arrogance to blank out reality, the rank and file openly spoke their fears.

'I don't like this. The steelheads all have rifles, and what do we have? Crossbows!' a trooper complained.

'Aye, Irimen, and I hear every one of the bastards has armour! We need to hit them in the face to stop them.'

'Dand, they can't be invulnerable. The generals are confident we'll win.'

'The generals seem to think Hussars and Dragoons can take on those mechanical devils. My father says nothing stopped them in Mobliz, except cannon. And they've probably got better since then.'

'But we have cannon, and artillery.'

'Do we have enough, Esata?'

'I don't know, I'm a rifleman, not a bombardier!'

Throughout the army, such conversations were the norm. Officers sure of victory, troopers uncertain they could even hurt the enemy.

Little did the Domans realise the Empire was already aware that they were coming.

Edit

(Rank comparisons table for Background purposes).

This post has been edited by Del S on 16th December 2005 16:05

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I am the hammer. I am the right hand of my Emperor, the instrument of His will, the gauntlet about His fist, the tip of His spear, the edge of His sword. I am His sword just as He is my armour, I am His wrath just as He is my zeal, I am the bane of His foes, and the woes of the treacherous. I am the end.

Warning: Possibly controversial theory ahead.

Stage Four-D: A Futile Move
The town of Anceman, and the mountain of the same name, lay between Wen Ryok and Port St. Martin, and was the most likely area the two armies would meet. Kefka was sure his forces could reach the village by the end of the night, and begin preparing defences. Already, scout units had moved ahead, reporting the town deserted.

The village was a mile northeast of the mountain's base, in fairly hilly terrain. Numerous small groups of trees littered the landscape, and the vast Anderlan forest lay to the village's southeast. The river Lay ran through the village, and save for the hills and forests. At the base of the mountain, a few buildings and the sealed shaft entrance were all that remained of an exhausted coalmine. A mile or so west of the village, lay the ruins of a castle called Wilhelm's Peak that, according to local legend, had been built before war of the magi, and destroyed by an esper attack so powerful the ruins were cursed. Legend also said there was a great treasure in the castle keep guarded by a dragon, but neither army was here for superstitions or myths.

At the moment, Doman troops planned to pass the area, but the Empire was already moving to get in the way.

Road to Anceman, 0725 hours, 24th of March
General Ozzel pondered the situation. His 20,000 cavalrymen could not navigate the forests, and it seemed he would need to send infantry into the forests. He had decided it would be best to send ten thousand infantry into the forest, with a further ten thousand to back them up, and send the rest of the army around the trees.

'Messenger! Instruct the 2nd Infantry Divison to move through the forests! Have the 4th follow behind them,' he instructed a Trooper.

'And the rest of the army, sir?' enquired Colonel Hunt.

'Patience, Deodatus! 1st and 3rd Infantry divisions to spread out and move towards the village. 1st Cavalry to follow 500 yards behind, Artillery to follow cavalry. 2nd Cavalry and 5th Infantry to wait in reserve a mile from the village.'

'Do you expect we'll meet them here, sir?'

'Alas, I think not. Scouts, at best.'

That meant that Irimen, Esata, and Dand were to advance on the village, and to their displeasure, their company was ordered to move on the village itself. The company of Riflemen, around 300 strong, supported some field guns from their heavy weapons platoon, were moving towards the village. The current occupants, however, did not want guests at the moment. At around eight, the battle began.

Anceman Village, Church Tower
Three machineguns were positioned in the bell tower, and their crews aimed at the approaching column of Doman soldiers over a thousand yards away. At the outskirts of the village, other long-ranged rifles took aim, including many examples the Vec1 Squad Automatic Weapon...

The Road
The bursts of fire struck the lead platoon by surprise, men falling in a hail of bullets. The distant bell tower of the church was the clear source of the machinegun fire, and the startled commanders of the field guns ordered their crews to set up, even as bullets cut down more men in the column of infantry. The first gun to be ready to fire lobbed a shell towards the tower, which fell short.

It slammed into an empty house inside the village, smashing through the roof, and exploding within.

The crews of the machineguns quickly picked up the weapons, and hurried down the stairs of the tower. Likewise, the soldiers on the outskirts of the village retreated, the damage done.

The Doman guns then began to pound the village, hitting only the buildings. A shell slammed into the church tower, and the bell fell to earth, ringing one last time as it cracked on the ground below.

The Doman soldiers moved into the village as the last shells detonated, a column moving into the square. The light infantrymen had not expected anything to be alive in the village.

However, a squad of Imperials had moved back into the village, and as they neared their targets, the Imperial artillery opened up, shells landing on the still-advancing Doman forces. As the startled soldiers entering the village turned to look at where the crash of explosions had rang from, the Imperial troopers who had neared them opened up.

Irimen, Esata, and Dand aimed their rifles and fired as others in their squad were cut down. Irimen was certain he had hit an Imperial in the face with his shot.

'We're far too open here! Move back!' a sergeant screamed. The three men, and the other soldiers, did so, firing their rifles back at the Imperials. At the end of the street, another squad of Domans, bowmen, had been attacked by a bayonet charge, and the Imperials there had begun firing on the retreating Domans.

Stumbling backwards into a half-devastated house, five soldiers tried to fire from the window and doorway to cover the retreat, as the rest of the mob of soldiers tried to retreat though the building. As Dand left through the back door, the crack of a grenade rang out in the house behind him. He glanced back, and saw that the rearguard had been killed by the blast, and a steelhead was entering the door. He shot the Imperial, a puff of dust coming from the front of the foreigner, and a pink cloud of blood from his back. Another had sprinted in the door even before Dand could pull the bolt back on the rifle, blazing away with his own rifle. Dand dived away, the bullets narrowly thudding into the wall of the house.

'Dand! Move it!' Esata yelled, as he and three other soldiers fired at the house. The Imperial inside dived behind the walls, as more of his comrades moved into the building. The Domans, however, were retreating.

They reached the outskirts of the village shortly, turning and firing at the enemy. More Doman infantry poured towards the village, and the cavalry were charging in also.

The three Doman soldiers dived into a ditch, along with the survivors of their platoon.

'Bloody hell, how many of the enemy were there?' Esata gasped.

'Can't tell, seemed like the bastards were everywhere, coming out the gods-damned walls... Oh... Oh gods, how many of our mates just got slaughtered in there?' another soldier said, close to tears

'Shut up, man! There's time for that later, we're busy!' another screamed from along the ditch. As if to prove the point, an explosion thundered less than thirty yards from their position.

'Where the bloody hell did that come from?' Dand cried in shock. Irimen simply pointed, his face white.

Four hundred yards away, firing their Blast Cannon, were twelve Vm-4 'Emperor' walkers, mechanical devils on two legs. They were aiming at a squadron of cavalry charging along the road at them, and as the fifty or so horsemen got within two hundred yards of the walkers, they opened up with beam cannons and machineguns. The cavalry were cut to ribbons before the even covered another fifty yards.

The infantry in the ditch fled towards the forest, the machinegun and beam cannon chased them into the treeline...

Across what had now become a battlefield, Doman infantry were encountering deadly charges from enemy cavalry, and even as General Ozzel tried to rally a massive charge of cavalry towards the enemy, they came.

Flying through the air like horsemen of the apocalypse, waving their scythes above their heads, VAF-1 Birdmen, the fighter aircraft of the Vectorian Air Force. Behind them, Bumblebee bombers. The Air Force, a thousand feet off the ground, fired on the Doman cavalry, horses and men blasted apart by the magitek cannon and machinegun fire. General Ozzel tried to rally the cavalry, but as he was about to scream an order to charge, a machinegun walked it's fire into him. Three fifty calibre rounds thudded into his chest, and his horse was struck in the forehead by a round. Ozzel had died before his neck snapped, after his corpse was dropped from his dying steed's back.

The bombers cut a terrible swathe through the lines of infantry and cavalry, and even as the artillery crews desperately fired into the air at the flyers, airships hunted them down...

In the forest, the Domans found that even there, they were being torn apart. Vectorian infantry. It was now around eight forty, and the platoon which had fled from the village had joined with the other infantry platoons in fighting Imperials in the forests. Even there, light M-tek walkers strode, blazing at the Doman soldiers. These walkers were open-topped, though, and their crews could be shot by the Domans. Hiding behind trees, firing at a platoon of advancing Imperials and five war walkers, Irimen, Easta and Dand prepared to sell their lives for their country...

As bullets ripped into the trees, the crack of rifle fire and the screams of the slaughter echoed around the trees, Dand barely even felt the bullet rip into his chest. He noticed the round which slammed into his shoulder when if knocked him back, and his arm became powerless. A last round hit him between the eyes, spraying his brain out the back of his skull. As he fell forward, an imperial grenade landed beside him. Esata was wounded by the blast, but kept firing.

Screaming in rage at the enemy, and firing his rifle at a ferocious speed, Irimen fought like a man possessed by a demon. When his rifle ammunition was exhausted, he grabbed his sword, and charged at the enemy. He was cut down by aimed fire.

The rest of the Doman squad was either dead, or wounded. As Esata drew the bolt of his rifle back to find his last bullet gone, he slumped down. The Imperials advanced on him, and he stared at the sky. The last thing he saw this morning was the butt of a Vectorian-made rifle speeding towards his face.

Anceman, an hour later
'A bloody slaughter,' Kefka remarked. He looked with no pleasure upon the battlefield. Few Domans had retreated, and so, almost sixty five thousand had fought and died needlessly. For their troubles, only 229 Imperials lay dead, another thousand or so wounded. Kefka did not know these facts, and when he discovered them later tonight, despite his service and experience in Zozo, even he would be horrified. At the moment, he was still stunned such a thing had even happened so violently.

'Sir, do we press on Wen Ryok now?' a colonel asked.

'As soon as the divisional commanders are ready, and we have all the wounded air-shipped back to Port St. Martin,' he said, flatly. He simply stared, his face a mask of stone. All that could be seen were the scattered corpses and plumes of smoke from the slaughter that he had ordered. He had not even expected it to have been here.

'Colonel. Do you have any idea why this happened like this?' Kefka asked. The colonel thought for a moment.

'No sir. I don't know why.'

Kefka laughed, not a trace of humour in it.

'And to think, the papers at home, they'll call me a hero for this if we take Obargalia entirely by the end of the week. A hero! For defeating an army of seventy thousand with an entire army, I could accept being a hero for that... But slaughtering a force seven times the number of a group I sent to slow the enemy down? What in god's name of a monster have we created with this army?'

The colonel did not reply, and silence fell. Kefka turned, and walked towards his chocobo.

Two soldiers dragged one last, unconscious, prisoner onto the Airship. Esata would never even realise he had become one of the first Domans to ride an airship, albeit unwillingly.

The Imperial Army set off at noon, not expecting the defenders of Wen Ryok to even anticipate their arrival.

'Trenches now. I hate bloody trenches,' Kefka said to himself as his army marched forward, leaving the slaughter behind, and going forth possibly to more bloodshed. In an ideal world, the Domans at Wen Ryok would give up, Kefka thought, but he was sadly certain he would be forced to kill almost all of them to achieve victory. Despite having won a great victory, he felt utterly helpless...

This post has been edited by Del S on 21st December 2005 23:16

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I am the hammer. I am the right hand of my Emperor, the instrument of His will, the gauntlet about His fist, the tip of His spear, the edge of His sword. I am His sword just as He is my armour, I am His wrath just as He is my zeal, I am the bane of His foes, and the woes of the treacherous. I am the end.

Stage Four-E: Lead the way.
Eximco, 1300 hours, 24th of March
It wasn't a repeat of the earlier landing as such, but it seemed like it.

Ships had sailed into the harbour, light cruisers heavily armed and firing into the city, as Army and Marine forces made landings. The lack of naval resistance coupled with the air cover had made it easy. Even as Marines landed on beaches that would have been defended , Army soldiers and other Marines had already killed or otherwise eliminated the defences. Exmico's seafront defences were swept aside in under twenty minutes, the Marines and Army marching into the city itself...

***

Wen Ryok, 1450 hours, 24th of March
It was a fairly open field between the Imperial army and the Doman trenches. Doman artillery was already firing, and some of Vector's artillery had begun to return fire.

'Men of the Empire! Fix bayonets!' Kefka virtually screamed the order, pushing back all thoughts of the slaughter this morning and all thoughts of possible slaughters to come, instead trying to focus only on the task ahead. The order was obeyed, as the infantry marched forward. Kefka had drawn his sword, and, holding his pistol in his left hand, held the blade with his right. The soldiers marched towards the enemy, out of range of Doma's marching forces at the moment, and not quite in range for their own weapons. Both sides artillery had fully set up and had begun firing at each other, stray shells landing amongst the scattered ranks of soldiers of both sides.

For a few seconds, the only sounds were the rumble of the artillery, the distant clank of Magitek armour, and the distant whir of the approaching airship rotors overhead. And soon after, came the moment they had awaited.

'In the name of the Emperor, men, CHARGE!'

The Imperials surged forth, the Magitek cavalry wings speeding ahead. The Domans ran also, both armies surging towards each other.

The guns of the Magitek walkers opened up, blasting at the enemy cavalry charging across the plain, cutting a horrific swathe in the ranks of horses. But they still came onwards, and the walkers still surged forward.

Some Doman artillery had begun to fire at the Magitek cavalry, most shells falling short, but a few landed amongst the walkers. The crews of open-topped walkers fell prey to shrapnel, but only a few walkers were lost.

At that moment, the Imperial airships swooped overhead, heading to hunt the enemy artillery. They fired tongues of magitek bolts, and were rewarded with blossoms of flame from exploding shells. Doman Machine-gunners fired at the aircraft, one of the fighters falling from the sky riddled with bullets. The artillery of Doma was soon silenced by the swarm of aircraft, though, and the machine-guns followed soon after, before the flying machines then turned their attention to the trenches. Bolts of energy were pumped into the defences, ripping apart the crude walls of sandbags and dirt supported by palisades, and the men using them as cover.

As the trenches behind suffered the sting of the new type of war, the two groups of infantry still surged at each other. Kefka ,at the head of his platoon of Magitek knights, to the surprise of his soldiers, screamed the order to fire. The Imperial soldiers did so with their semi-automatic rifles, decimating the front rank of the Domans at a hundred yards. Doma's forces were stunned that the Empire's troops were charging and firing. The magazines of the front rank of Imperial soldiers were expended, so, in a manoeuvre they had drilled for countless times, they prepared to allow the other ranks pass them.

'Magazine!' came the cries from along the lines, and the soldiers who did so crouched down.

The other ranks began to surge past as they released the magazine catch of the Vector-Two rifles, removing the box magazine from the breech, discarding the empty magazine into a pouch on their webbing specifically for the purpose (The magazines were reusable, and soldiers were encouraged to conserve them), and then replacing it with a fresh magazine from another pouch. After cocking the rifles and closing over the opened pouches, the former front rank soldiers stood up. It took just under four seconds due to the training they had received.

The Domans had halted, trying to form ranks to fire crossbow and rifle, but this was a mistake. Under intense fire from the Imperials, as some of the enemy soldiers still running forward collided with the men in front, the lines of Doman soldiers withered, the Imperials simply blazing away in the general direction of the enemy, virtually guaranteed a hit. Some Domans begun to flee, and some Imperials, who had been running slightly ahead halted to fire more precise shots with their semi-automatic rifles, but they generally only took one shot before resuming their charge at the enemy as their comrades caught up, assuming of course the enemy did not manage to get a shot in on them.

Then the lines clashed, Imperial steel clashing into the armour and flesh of the Domans. Kefka fired his automatic pistol at close range, gunning down three Doman soldiers. He swiped with his blade, slicing into the enemy.

The chaos of the mêlée was as one-sided as the firefight. The Empire's soldiers had been trained in the use of their bayonets in another staggered system: The first rank would charge, stab the enemy, then draw back as the second line charged the enemy. The previous first rank would sling their weapons and draw their swords at this point, some soldiers also drawing pistols, not issued to anyone under the rank of Sergeant officially, but a soldier could purchase his own handgun if he wished. As a result, the crack of the Vector 1P Magnums joined in with steel, sinew, and the smaller round of the 2P Automatic. Some soldiers had simply removed their bayonets rather than draw swords, and blasted the enemy at point blank range.

It was a horrific display of the professionalism and intense training of the Imperial military when the Doman's begun to flee, tripping over the corpses of their own comrades, that the Imperial charge forth did not suffer the same fate, the soldiers carefully stepping over the dead and simply killing any Domans who had fallen. The fleeing soldiers were allowed to run.

Two hundred yards from the trenches. Doman soldiers in the trenches began to fire, reasonably sure they would not hit their own troops now, though some of the retreating Doman soldiers were shot by accident in the crossfire. The Imperials returned fire, the front and second ranks blazing away as the other ranks fixed bayonets once more. The front two ranks both ran out of ammunition shortly, and the other ranks marched past, firing away. Artillery began to rain down on the trenches, light mortar shells and carefully aimed heavier weapons crashing down on the trenches for a few seconds, as the Imperials marched forth. The smell of cordite, smoke and blood filled the air , a smog of battle that made the air seem as thick as molasses. But still, the Imperials surged forth, rifles roaring and boots trampling into the mud. The last Airships sped back towards Bark-On-Lay, where the basic airfield had been established.

It had taken ten minutes of carnage for the Imperials to reach the Doman lines, and it was now three o' clock. On average, each of the 40,000 Imperial soldiers had killed two and a half enemies each.


* * *
Outskirts of Eximco City, 1500 hours
At Eximco, the forest betrayed the city. The treeline halted around a hundred metres from the trenches at most, and the Imperials had moved using the trees as cover. Even as the Doman defenders struggled to try and repel the naval landings, by now at the city centre, and taking their time, the Army moved in from land.

Mortar crews had moved close to the treeline, and were ready to fire. In front of them, ranks of riflemen and occasionally machine-gun crews lay prone. The trenches a hundred meters away, surrounded by junk and debris placed to try and impede a charge, but it would only slow it slightly.

As the Mortar crews readied to fire, to the surprise of all involved, white flags waved from the trenches, and flares shot up from the city walls. The distant rumble of artillery and gunfire in the city faded to isolated bursts within a few minutes. The Domans had surrendered here. It saved at least 20,000 defenders lives. It had been too late for the other 15,000, or for the 220 Imperial soldiers who had been killed.

In just under 12 hours, over a hundred thousand men had died in the carnage, and from a fighting chance in the morning, it now seemed certain that Obargalia would fall to the might of the Imperial Army.

***

In the trenches, Imperial soldiers had slaughtered the soldiers they had encountered, and now, moved along the trench system, Magitek walkers striding near the edges of the trenches, ready to pulverise any targets that exposed themselves, or bathe the trenches in flame. Kefka and his squad walked along the trenches, pistols holstered, empty of ammunition and bloodied blades gleaming. Along the defences, the only sounds now were occasional bursts of fire. The Domans were either all dead, surrendered, or died needlessly.

'I hope this idea doesn't catch on along the rest of the country. This place is filthy,' Kefka said, referring to the muddy floor of the earthworks, trying to stay on top of the urge to simply scream at the futility of all this. Why did the Domans simply throw their lives away? Why didn't they run? Why did they risk all they had built, all they had each achieved? What more than just an enemy was he destroying when he fired his gun or swung his sword?

'Oh, don't worry sir, we'll soon get all the Domans out and then the Marines can come clean it up,' a soldier said, to some laughter. The General and his squad soon concluded the trenches were clear, and some Magitek cavalry units, supported by a few dozen infantry, moved to scout the nearby village.

The village was lifeless, the populace having fled as their defence forces had moved in. The only noises were the whistle of the wind and clatter of boots on cobblestone. The only incident in the village occurred when a young Tzenian soldier checked a house. He heard a noise in the cellar.

'Corporal! I can hear something!' he hissed, and the corporal walked over.

'What, lad?' he asked quietly.

'There's something down in the cellar,' the soldier replied. The corporal nodded to another trooper, who readied his rifle.

'Well lad, open it up,' the NCO prompted the Tzenian. He slung his rifle and drew his Magnum.

Aiming at the door with his revolver as the corporal and other trooper took aim as well, he opened it quickly.

'Imperial army! Come out with your hands up and without weapons and you will not be harmed!'

The Corporal lit an oil lamp, handed it to the trooper, and he descended into the cellar. All they found was a cat, which had evidently worked it's way into this cellar in pursuit of the only other things in the basement: Mice.

The rest of the army moved forward into the ghost town, and the Imperial flag was raised on the pole in the village square. The predictable cheer from the assembled soldiers rose along with it, and yet another piece of Doman land had the shadow of the Empire's emblem landing upon it this day.

Kefka wondered how many of his men were simply cheering because the only other option was to scream. He was unable to decide which to do at the moment, so he did nothing. He feared many of them believed this was some sort of victory... Most of all, he feared he was believing it as well.

What is a human being? A god can build a world, yet, I fear a human can tear it apart. What purpose has life, other than death?
-Entry on the night of the 25th of March, Year 1001, Diary of General Kefka Palazzo, Vectorian Imperial Armed Forces.

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I am the hammer. I am the right hand of my Emperor, the instrument of His will, the gauntlet about His fist, the tip of His spear, the edge of His sword. I am His sword just as He is my armour, I am His wrath just as He is my zeal, I am the bane of His foes, and the woes of the treacherous. I am the end.