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Forum Meta => Role Play => Archived Role Play Boards => Archive => General Roleplay => Topic started by: Sovereign Dixie on May 05, 2007, 04:20:51 AM

Title: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 05, 2007, 04:20:51 AM

OOC: For those not in the know, I was without internet access for the better part of 3 months, which covers the last half of the Eire Crisis thread, from which this continues. Pershing's and the CSSD's absence won't be really mentioned in this, basically, it's assumed that relations between the South and the DSA remained at their current state of frosty stagnation.


IC:

 Pershing read the newspaper while absently fumbling for the breathmints in the upper left hand desk drawer. A wooden fountain pen sat atop the desk, with a tablet of a texture which nearly resembled parchment. An idiosynchrosy to say the least, and Frasier Pershing's assistants were not only baffled by such strange demands, but rather irriated as well, it was often said that the reason Pershing kept his assistants around was so that he would not have to suffer the ire of bemused office supply store clerks, allowing the poor interns to suffer in his stead.

 He found the breath mints, absently placing one in his mouth, tucking it under his lip as he took a swig from a glass of whiskey which set on his desk. His gaze never left the paper.

 :"That impotent bastard, fucking Fremont, what the bloody hell is this clown's problem?" He thundered to a room occupied by himself and himself alone. He then folded the paper up, setting it at the left hand side of the desk, with same hand thereafter grabbing the fountain pen, he hastily scribbled a reply to Pete Tar-Iliuim

 

Quote

 Your Majesty,

 Your words of support humble and encourage me, that such a mighty empire such as yours may still posess the moral fortitude to not lose sight of the basic things in this world that matter, freedom, and self determination. It is my earnest desire that your assistance shall not be required, but I shall not hesitate to accept your offer, shall it be deemed in the best interests of The Southland.

 In Sincerest Grattitude,

 Frasier J. Pershing

 Pershing carefully folded the paper, placing it neatly in a cream coloured envelope, affixing a note to the front, with instructions that it was to be sealed and sent to the Myrorian Emperor.

 He withdrew a pack of cigarettes from the inside left hand breast pocket of his dark grey suit jacket, lighting it, he walked out the door to the back stage waiting area.

 Fremont was slowly but surely over extending his bounds, Pershing laughed softly as the thought formed. It was Fremonts hypocricy and arrogance that would be his undoing, and give the South the second chance it so greatly deserved. He recieved the que from the stagehand, stepping out in beat to what the producer called the "hard hitting, urgent, yet blue collar" music which had been chosen to be the theme tune for what was now one of the most popular news commentary shows in the nation.

 "Good evening America, I'm Frasier Pershing, and it's high time for some truth!" Uproarious applause at this, his most famous and memorable phrase.

 "The truth is that Mr. Fremont is quite possibly the most collossal hypocrite in the history of this nation. One side of his face condemning Stephen Crofts for avenging the deaths of innocents and spewing the virtues of the Eiren cause, and out of the other, supporting the oppression of and the discrimination against his own countrymen here in the Southland.

 The truth is that Fremont doesn't want you to know this glaring character flaw, and that he thinks he has Americans in his pocket when it comes to his hatred of Stephen Crofts, and of the South, for that matter, but tonight, for you, and the world to hear, I have live via satellite, Inglo-Scotian Consul of War Mark Anderson.

 "Mr Anderson, it is both a pleasure and an honour to have you here with us tonight. We here in America are often ill informed of goings on 'across the pond' and I wanted you to come on my show, and explain what is REALLY going on in Inglo-Scotia, Eire, and how this relates to the wretched deceptions of the Fremont administration and life here in the South. Mr Anderson?"

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on May 05, 2007, 05:03:33 AM

The graphic opposite Pershing switched from the Commonwealth coat of arms to the face of Consul of War Mark Anderson, the black face of Mark Anderson.
Somewhere in Washington Eliot Fremont let out a quite but very pissed off "fuck."

"Thank you for having me Mr. Pershing.
I would like to say that this means a lot to us here in the Commonwealth. We've been through hell and back, and the international community, lead by the vindictive Eliot Fremont, has shunned us in our moment of need. You have no idea how comforting it is to know that we have supporters in the States. Your moral support is doing more then you think.

The nations of the world who consider themselves 'progressive' have condemned the Commonwealth regime as a criminal regime, an undemocratic regime. It is this type of bigotry, perpetuated by progressive socialists, that keeps the world ignorant of the truth of the Inglo-Scotian situation.
Stephen Crofts and the Action Party were elected democratically following a two year civil war. To say our new republican government was on shaky legs would have been an understatement. We all did what we had to do to preserve the liberty thousands died for. We have a parliamentary democratic system, democracy with a fist. Allow me to go on record, and I speak for the entire Commonwealth, the rumours of mass arrests, tortures, and prison camps only exist in the minds of progressives, liberals, and Marxists. We have executed only those who have killed innocents in the name of an old, tyrannical regime, or for independence of a province who frankly doesn't deserve that freedom. Everyone who has been executed in the Commonwealth had the benefit of a trial, something they themselves denied their victims."

"I assume you mean Erie when you mention a province seeking independents" Pershing asked.

"Yes. You see Erie was integrated into the Kingdom of Ingland in the 1100's. It was incorporated into the Empire of Inglo-Scotia in the 1600's. We're talking about an island that has been Inglo-Scotian for nine hundred years. And they want independence now? We can't be the only ones who think that's absurd. They were made a province with the formation of the Commonwealth. Legally speaking they're as equal as Ingland and Scotia. An independent Erie doesn't make any sense. It simply doesn't. Who does Eliot Fremont think he is, telling us we have to give up land that's been ours for over nine centuries.
Then the terrorists who lead the ERA blow up the most populated region of our capital with a dirty bomb, and Fremont celebrates the ERA masterminds as martyrs and condemns Stephen Crofts as a murderer. How can anyone with half a mind in their head accept that logic?
The fact is that Eliot Fremont is a plague sucking the life out of the southern region of his nation. Patriots like you Mr. Pershing are a godsend.
Rest assured that we in the Commonwealth support you, just as you and your fellow countrymen have supported us in our time of need."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 05, 2007, 05:30:00 AM

 Pershing nodded, "Just as we too here find great comfort in knowing that our cries of outrage are not met with deaf ears by the international community. I for one, find it totally unacceptable that the Fremont administration mentioned not one word regarding the casualties of the radioactive bomb exploasion which was unleashed upon the innocent citizens of Inglo-Scotia, and yet had no shortage of words when Mr. Crofts put those responsible to justice."

 Pershing took a deep breath, exhaled, and looked dead into the camera. "Mr Anderson, It is my hope that as a man of your lineage and ancestry, a man who knows all to well the evils of bigotry and descrimination, both on the basis of colour and class, that you can offer your view point on this issue, not only to those here, but around the world.
 
 The leftists in this nation, encourage by the current administration, have been increasingly stereotyping Southerners as little more than incestuous bigots who live in substandard housing. What are your views on race relations in the Southern DSA as we near the end of the first decade of the 21st century?"

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on May 05, 2007, 05:53:26 AM

"Mr. Pershing, I was born a slave under the old Imperial regime of Inglo-Scotia. I have lived through horrors my ethnic brothers of the Democratic States only know from tales of their great grandparents. I fought for my freedom, I fought alongside white Inglo-Scotians during our civil war on the side of Parliament.
Rest assured that from the bottom of my heart I wish nothing but the worst for anyone who condemns an individual based on the colour of their skin.
Yet I am a man who believes in moving forward. We as a people can not move forward toward equality as long as we let ourselves be consumed by hatred of the past.
I realize that the people of the southern Democratic States do not hold the same outdated patterns of thinking that their ancestors did. It is because of this that I, as a black man, forgive the southern people for indiscretions against the black race in the past. That was then. Things have changed. At least you did away with that heinous institution of slavery as society evolved, unlike the 'nobles' of my country, 'nobles' Mr. Fremont's Progressive Party supported during our civil war, by the way.
Look, cultures merge and evolve. The culture of southern blacks has evolved since emancipation, and it has coexisted with traditional white southern culture. Together these two components form a distinct culture, one very different from that of the rest of the Democratic States.
My brothers in the southern DSA, I lived through hells you have only heard of. I know the sting of a whip first hand. Don't let a whip from two hundred years back continue to keep you down through. You and your white countrymen have more in common then you think you do. Whites, your culture, one that has existed from before your Revolutionary war, is being threatened by progressive socialists who value political correctiveness over true culture. Southern blacks, your being kept under a veil of ignorance. The same progressive socialists have kept you wrapped in a frenzy of hate, unable to see the fact that they are keeping you from your own self-determination."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 05, 2007, 06:27:06 AM

 For the last few minutes, every last person on the set had been silent, the words of wisdom from the Inglo-Scotian slowly making their mark on the psyches of not only those off camera, but upon Pershing himself. When Consul Anderson had finished, and his words hung about the room like a light which illuminated the minds of all present. Pershing was silent for a moment, then continued.

 "Mr Anderson, never before have the reasons for what we believe been made so eloquently clear. Time and time again the north has used the race card to sew discord in the south, and though I will be the first to admit that we have had our problems in that department, the past is indeed just that, the past.

 We here wish you and yours the best of foturnes in the weeks to come, and our condolences to the victims of the recent Eiren acts of madness. Thank you again for joining us, Consul Amderson."

 Pershings eyes cast a downward glance, staring down at interlaced fingers, moments of silence followed as disconcerted whispers among the camera crews began to display concern. When Pershing looked up, he seemed a different man, no longer a former General turned talk show pundit, but a man who was angry at the world around him, a pensive glare from his eyes shone directly into the camera, his words were deliberate and slow as he spoke.

 Ladies and gentlmen, that really is what it boils down to, isn't it? For nearly two hundred years, we have been used as pawns in a game that we didn't even know was being played. Kings and Queens and their knights in gilded armour bestroed grand ideals while keeping a bloody heel upon the neck of The South. And now... and now here we are. What comes next? What price do we pay for continued complacency?

 I, for one, do not want to find out. Southerners, and Americans who still remember Who They Are and What this Nation was supposed to Stand For, join us, join us now! Write your congressman, your governor, we must be heard! There is no alternative, no second place. When the consequences are so dire, victory has no rival.

 Everyone, think about the words you have heard here this evening, Goodnight and God Bless us all, we sure as hell need it."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on May 05, 2007, 06:48:42 AM

Pershing's face vanished from the screen in the oval office in Washington. Elliot Frémont was livid. Southern secessionists sentiment had always been there. Frémont had made it Progressive Party police to deliver it its death blow, however. It all backfired. It had forced southern Americans to take sides. Frémont was a very capable public speaker, but he wasn't in Frasier Pershing's league, not by a long shot. That retired general had been a thorn in his side for the first two years of his presidency. Pershing had given the Federalists in Congress ammunition to question Frémont's will to contain the rising tide from the south.

"I want that drunken blow-hard off the air by sunrise" he said, calmly, but still very much pissed off.
"Um" Paul Rae, his chief of staff spoke up, "I would have to say FXX News would fight us on that. The First Amendment is hard to ignore."
"I don't give a rat's ass Paul!" the President yelled back.
"Call it whatever the hell you want. He's preaching hate, treason, and division. We can't let him stay on the air. Freedom of speech does not extend to treason."
"He's right Paul" Sam Heller, the Press Secretary, responded. "We could get him off the air."
"Just do it" Frémont demanded.
"Also," he responded, "have Senator Loren introduce a bill to ban the display of the Confederate flag. It's a symbol of violent acts of treason."
"Will do" Rae responded reluctantly.

"I'm off to bed" the President announced. "I want Pershing in the unemployment line by sun-up."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on May 05, 2007, 07:00:29 AM

Mark Anderson waited until the mic was removed before getting up.

"Excellent work Mark" Consul of Public Relations Tom Wilkiek said, saluting Anderson.
"I hope so. Anything to make that bastard Frémont sweat. I take it Field Marshal Theriot has finished Operation Avenge's preparation?"
"Yes sir" Wilkiek responded, acknowledging Anderson's position as head of government with Crofts and Destler in Irnotia.
"The war plans against the Democratic States have been finished. Every possible scenario has been explored and counted for."

"Good" Anderson responded.
"We go to a state of emergency as soon as Consul Destler returns."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 05, 2007, 07:17:46 AM

 The air was mildly cold that night as Pershing sat on the deck of his home in upstate Alabama. the hour was quickly reaching dawn, but no matter what he tried, sleep would not come. He took a sip of whiskey, and leaned back in the chair, looking up at the sky.

 His mind wandered off in a million directions, and yet his heart could only go in one. Every ounce of his being weighed heavy with a sence of forboding.For all of his words, his fans, hell, even his money, all he could do was wait. The dance of the damned, he had often called it.

 The ring of his cell phone startled him to yell, feeling foolish and blaming the whiskey, he answered gruffly and was in turn greeted by the calm but strained tones of Michael Chamberlain boyhood friend and co councilor of The League of The South, a political movement focused on the preservation of Southern rights.

 "Frasier, Fremont's gone apeshit."

 Pershing's raised eyebrow was nearly audible as he spoke. "Mikey, he did that a long time ago, what the hell are you taking about."

 "He signed an executive order demanding that FXX take you off the air immediately."

 Pershing's laughed was booming and a tad nervous, only he knew the latter though. " Are you fucking serious? That ass clown actually took me off the air? The press is gonna have a fucking field day with this one. On what grounds?"

 "Treason, basically, I mean, there's a list of shit a mile long, but to sum it up, he says your show is treasonous."

 Pershing shook his head in silent dismay. "Wow, this guy isn't the longest french fry in the bag, is he? Fine, he wants to play hard ball, I'll play fucking hardball. I want you to call every talkshow from New York, to Dallas, to L.A. I dont care, I'll do them all, even that pompous fat ass Rhoda O'Doul. Get me air time Mikey, Call jack, have him call every fucking stadium, university, and kiddie birthday party he can find and get me in. I may not go down a hero, but I'll at the least go down as the man who wouldn't shut the hell up."

 Chamberlain seemed eased by Pershings grasp on the situation, a quick sigh followed by an assurance of even quicker results, and it had begun.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on May 05, 2007, 07:42:32 AM

Office of Lee Bay, Editor in Chief, New Yorkshire Times
Bay had no idea why he was in his office just hours before dawn. He just had a feeling he should be there. Any other man would need more then a feeling to get up at 3 in the morning and drive across town, but Lee Bay got to where he was as a journalist by following his gut.

Suddenly the door to his office flew open, and Herb Coleman, his editor of the political section stood in the doorway gasping for breath.
"Thank G-d...you're....here...." he gasped.

"What's up Herb?" Bay asked.

"The Presi...the President....he just....kicked Pershing....of FXX."
"Shit...." Bay said half to himself. He wasn't necessarily a Pershing fan, but he knew a good story when he saw one, and this one was basically an early Christmas present. All he had to do was paint Pershing as a martyr, a man who went down fighting for what he believed in, and he would have trouble keeping issues in the news stands.

"Who else knows about this?" He asked Herb.
"The New Ustio Chronicle for sure" Coleman answered, referring to the top paper in New Yorkshire's twin city on Long Island.
"That's all I need. Get the night crew on this ASAP!" Bay demanded.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Myroria on May 05, 2007, 01:35:31 PM

Quote

Frasier J. Pershing,

I understand. Of all the things a modern monarchy needs to survive, personal freedom for all its subjects is likely at the forefront. Now, I do not want a war any more than the next man, but it may be inevitable if the South wishes to reform, or perhaps even gain their freedom from, the state that breaks its own values. Good day.

Peté Tar-Ilium

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 06, 2007, 01:51:40 AM

 The sleep in which Pershing entered was frought with the half conscious musings of his mind and the drunken ramblings of a fool. Time passed in the blink of an eye and the monumental caution of a glacier simultaneously. He was once again awakened by his cell phone, once again Chamberlains weary voice being conveyed to him.

 "We have you booked for a ralley in Raleigh Stadium the day after tommorow, followed by an interview for the New Yorkshire times, the latter seemed to want to get their claws in you pretty bad, I promised them your first press interview after the rally, hope you don't mind."

 The words streaked through Frasier's mind with the strength of a thousand hammers as he struggled to find their meaning through the haze of his thoughts and the lingering surrealism of his waking dreams.

 "That's fine..." He croaked in a raspy exhausted voice. As he answered the totality of his friends words and their results began to resonate in his conscious mind. "When do i need to leave?" He asked, still fumbling for his grip on matters of both time and place.

 "I have you booked on the 3am red eye, sorry Frash, it was the best I could do." Mike answered.

 "That's fine, fine by me, gives me a few more hours of shut eye."

 He flipped the phone shut, roling over to resume his slumber, upon awaking he threw on the bare essentials, a t-shirt, jeans, boots and hat, and fumbled his way to his truck parked out front, and hazily drove to the airport.

 His arrival was more than he could have expected. A throng of fans and reporters greeted him, he hugged and shook hands with the former, and ignored the latter altogether. Climbing into a rented SUV, he made his way to the hotel as directed to by Chamberlain in a phone call made later that day.

 Hours later, he was walking out onto the stage in the centre of Raleigh Stadium, the crowd was not as large as he would have hoped, only 50 % capicity of 35,000. It would do though, at this point, he reckoned, he could not affored to bitch about such petty things.

 He had no prepared words, no notes or que cards, he stepped up onto the stage and began to speak, the brim of his black hat covering the upper half of his face.

 "How y'all doin?" He asked, half stalling, half trying to set the mood, the thunderous applause said he had accomplished both.

 "As some of you know, that.... "gentlman" Fremont, pulled me off the air a couple of days ago. Now, yall can call me crazy, or whatever the hell else you want, but I could have sworn we have something called the 1st amendment!"

 The scene was one of rampant anger, the reminder of Fremont's actions inscenced the crowed like Pershing hadn't thought possible.

 "Treason.... that's what they're saying, that I'm condoning treason." He laughed slightly. "I've seen alot of things, but never in my life did I dream that a man elected by the people would turn and wipe his ass on our constitution. Now, what I'm about to say here, I've thought long and hard about, every alternitive conceivable has entered my mind, and been catagorically rejected. If the South is to survive, to regain her honour and pride, and secure a future of respect for her future sons and daughters, she has no other choice. We must secceede. We must do so immediately."

 The crowd reacted with a combination of stunned silence and uproarious approval.

 "Now, I know, alot of ya'll are thinking that there has to be another way, I say to you, that as sure as I stand before you, that there is no other way. If fate is to favour our cause, we must make it our mistress, and seize it wholeheartedly and without reservation."

 He continued to speak for another half an hour and as the combination of passion and personal pain flowed from him, he drew more and more applause, and less stunned silence.....

 He tipped his had, and turned towards backstage, heading towards his appointment with the Times reporter....

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Zimmerwald on May 06, 2007, 02:27:17 AM

Well, this presents something of a dilemma, thought Aram to himself, pacing the now well-worn floors of his office.  He hadn't slept a wink that night, preferring instead to imbibe obscene amounts of coffee and to smoke several cigarettes (Viktor's Zuavka spiel hadn't been that convincing), while brooding over this latest foreign policy crisis.  On the one hand, America had performed an honorable role in Eire, standing up to Crofts and his minions.  This Pershing seemed to be colluding with the Inglo-Scotians, and legitimizing their imperialism.

However, on the other side of the coin, if the Southern States wanted sovereignty and self-determination, wasn't it a fallacy to deny it?  And wouldn't it be a fallacy for him to support Fremont against any secession attempt, as this speech transcript seemed to indicate would happen?  What was the best way to balance these problems?  How could Gallipoli-China maintain its position on anti-imperialism without becoming everybody's enemy?  Either, it seemed, he could support the DSA and Eire, in which case he'd alienate I-S and Dixie, or vice versa.

So much for states, he thought to himself ruefully.  There was no middle ground there.  However, there were personalities to consider.  After all, Fremont didn't seem like the type to take his nation to war over a diplomatic offense, while Crofts was definately more touchy.  He could afford to offend him.  He might even appeal to Fremont's sense of guilt.

Pershing, on the other hand, was another matter.  Aram didn't know if his friendlyness with imperialists were an "enemy of my enemy" strategy or a manefestation of actual sympathy.  Nor did he think that Pershing would be too grateful of aid from a Communist.  Still, he had to do something, otherwise he'd be alienating everybody, and that would never do.

Notes, notes, notes...my entire life at this point consists of writing notes.  I wish I could do something more proactive, Aram thought to himself as he began typing.  Notes were effective, as far as they went, but it felt very bureaucratic all the same.  By the end of the hour he had two notes composed.  Well, one diplomatic note and one personal letter.  At that point he fell asleep, and had to delete several hundred erroneous "y"s from the end of the second note before sending them.

Quote

To: President Eliot Fremont, Democratic States of America

President Fremont, let me first say that I have the utmost respect for the American constitution.  Its First Amendment inspired Articles 49-51 of our Constitution, while other Amendments correspond to other Articles.  That said, I find it hard to understand why you decided to censor certain television programs and networks based in your nation yesterday.

Such an action only weakens your hand in foreign relations.  I watched, too weak to do anything, with an unconstituted government, while America did its utmost to defend the rights of the Eirean people to self-determination and freedom from imperialism.  I applaud your efforts.  However, your actions hurt your moral position on this issue, as with all issues of imperialism in the future.

Furthermore, such actions only legitimize the calls for secession.  If your people see these actions, however you spin them, they will see tyranny at work, and will support those who oppose you.

I have no interest in seeing the might of America curbed by internal strife.  Doing so would only strengthen the forces of imperialism around the world.  I urge you to rescind your order of censorship, not so much out of concern for my nation, but out of concern for yours, and for the oppressed nations who look at America as a nation that may someday help them to be free.

Yours respectfully,
Aram Caros, Foreign Relations Committee Chairman, Gallipoli-China

Quote

Dear Frasier Pershing,

I write this, not as diplomatic correspondance, which would be illegal under your nation's Logan Act (OOC: this act, which prevents private citizens from carrying on diplomcay, actually exists in RL, and since the DSA is basically the USA, I thought it would have it as well), but as a personal message of solidarity.  I, and my whole government, knows what it's like to have press censored, liberties revoked, and rights abridged.  So I feel a special kinship with you, who must, like our people, struggle to regain those liberties and rights.

I wish to let you know that my nation shall bring full pressure to bear on your government to restore your right to speak.  If that fails, I cannot make any promises, but our people care greatly about the rights of the oppressed in Eire, in Ryazania, in Bustos' colonies, in Vakour's colonies, in the Mercantilist Dominions, and in Dixie, and will want to...sympathise with your cause.

I understand there might be a certain reluctance to accept...sympathy from a Socialist nation, but I urge you to put that aside, and to remember that politics makes strange bedfellows.

Keep in touch,
Aram Caros

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Myroria on May 06, 2007, 03:06:56 AM

Peté walked the tiled halls of his Georgian country home, the Monet, in the small town of Georgetown, west of Novrith, glasses perched precariously on his nose. He was reading the transcript of the meeting at a stadium in the Democratic States where Pershing urged his fellow Southroners to declare their independence. Tar-Ilium was not afraid of war with America, oh no, their teenagers seemed to him and his countrymen to be just as much a threat to the government as Myroria's armies were. However, he did not want to recognize Southron independence until it had actually been declared and a government made; doing so before would be akin to recognizing one of Rakata's many warring factions as the legitimate government.

Pushing open an ajar door, he entered his study, still reading, and sat at his desk, almost not needing to look up at all. Dropping the paper on his desk and flicking on the banker's lamp in the dark room, he read the last few sentences before sitting back in his chair. He knew the DSA wouldn't let the South go free without a fight - it violated a Supreme Court case issued shortly after the War Between the States - rather, the First War Between the States, as he sensed it would soon be called. This would give them some international support, he assumed - they had the law on their side. But at the same time, they were violating their own constitution left and right, and one Supreme Court case wouldn't change that.

The army was currently on Myrorian Army Preparedness Code (MAPC, pronounced "Map" for short, no one knew what happened to the "c") one, the lowest it could be. Once the DSA showed any sign of trying to prevent the South from seceding, it'd be bumped to MAPC two - hopefully that'd be enough a threat, but if they continued, war was not out of the question. Myroria harboured Muslims - they'd be branded as a terrorist nation, he knew, especially after the attacks. Peté always ran large situations in his head, exploring every possible thing that could happen.

Peté decided not to issue an official statement - yet. He decided that as soon as the South formed a constitution, likely after they declare their independence, he'd recognize them. And with that, he retired to bed.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on May 06, 2007, 06:27:04 AM

Admiral Thomas Paine, Field Marshal Andrew Theriot, Air Marshal Conway Jordan, and Consul of War Mark Anderson occupied the conference room usually reserved for Council of State meetings.

The doors opened slowly, and Lord Protector Stephen Crofts and Consul of Foreign Affairs Erik Destler, just returned from Irnotia, entered. Crofts took his seat at the head of the table, while Destler stood in the corner, puffing on a Bowser & Fern cigarette.

"I hadn't seen your appearance on Pershing's show, but I herd you were very persuasive" the Lord Protector mentioned, complementing his Consul of War.
"I would like to think so" Anderson responded in a humble yet confident manner.

"I take it the Project has been completed then" Crofts enquired to his General Staff.

"Yes sir" Theriot responded.
"Every possible situation has been accounted for in painstaking detail."

"Destler" Crofts asked, despite not turning to face his Consul of Foreign Affairs still puffing away in the corner of the room, "we officially recognize the Confederacy the moment they set up anything resembling a working government. Understood?"
"Most definitely" Destler responded, finishing off his latest cigarette.

"Make no mistake about it gentlemen" Crofts gravely stated, "this Commonwealth will be at war. We can not allow the Confederacy to collapse.
Long Live the Victorious Revolution gentlemen."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on May 06, 2007, 06:50:24 AM

Senator Daniel Loren of Wisconsin (P) sipped his glass of ice cold Moxie-Cola. Other then water, and the occasional ceremonial glass of wine, he only drank Moxie. He didn't drink alcoholic beverages if he could help it.
He was up late, and yes it was technically Sunday by now, but he wanted the feeling he had gained to never go away. Not only had the President effectively exiled Frasier Pershing from the airwaves, but he had rammed a law through the senate banning the display, manufacture, and sale of the Confederate flag.

It was a particularly great feeling. The southern senators (mostly Federalists) and even some northern Federalists had heckled him, threw insults at him. They cried out that he was "raping the Constitution."
Daniel loved it. He generally believed in the concept of human equality, and the Social Progressive Perspective that taught respect for all viewpoints, but when he compared his views, and by extension the views of the Progressive Party, to the views of the more conservative Federalist Party and the League of the South, he couldn't help but feel a sense of superiority. The Progressives knew how to move America forward, and if the Constitution needed to be ignored now and then to reach that promised land of Progressive ideals, then so be it. Order would be restored at the end of the day. 

"That Mark Anderson is a traitor to his race" Loren said to himself, referring to Stephen Crofts' Consul of War.
"If the African-Americans of the south take his advice they'll all end up in chains again."

The victory was extra sweet considering what happened in the House. The Senate had passed the bill in a relatively easy manner. The Progressives controlled most northern states, and they outnumbered the southern states. Considering each state got two votes he had the numbers.
In the House however, the more populous southern states had put up a fight. Still, New York and California alone gave the Progressives the numbers they needed to push the ban on the CSD flag through.

"It won't come to war" he thought to himself.
"It's all talk. You can't lead a backwards thinking horse to water."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on May 08, 2007, 06:41:15 AM

"My fellow Americans, we face a time of uncertainty, a period where we must bond together to move forward.
My administration has come under attack for my executive order to remove Frasier Pershing from television. I have been accused of breaking the First Amendment.
Rest assured Americans, I did what I did without giving it a great deal of thought. This was not an easy decision, it was the hardest I have ever had to make. Yet it was one that had to be made. A great man named Abraham Lincoln once said 'a house divided against itself cannot stand.'
Those words ring as true today as they did 146 years ago.
Southerners, you are Americans. You are as American as Californians, New Yorkers, New Inglanders, and mid-westerners. The war of secession has been over for over a century. Hasn't this great nation had enough time to heal, to come together? I plead with you, put away the treasonous rhetoric and flags, embrace the stars and stripes. Embrace theses united Democratic States, shun the notion of the Confederacy. I beg of you, accept yourselves as Americans first, and southerners second.
Sadly the words of hate, bigotry, and treason from Frasier Pershing have wedged Americans of the south apart. Therefore I must make an other hard decision. I am hereby ordering the military occupation of Virginia, Kentucky, Missouri, Tennessee, Arkansas, South Carolina, and Nevada. It is my hope that through a little bit of force we may force a sense of national unity to the surface.
Goodnight."

Paul Rae stood there, still in disbelief that the President had just done what he did, and he had been trying to talk him out of it all day.
"Elliot needs to calm down" he thought to himself.
When the President got an idea in his head he would usually jump to the extreme to achieve his goal. Usually Paul or VP McMahon could talk him into a more sensible solution, but this time the President was determined.

In the end though all of this could have been averted if Frémont had just been a little less idealistic. He was the one who made it the Progressive Party's goal to crush the southern independence movement, for no other reason then he felt it was an embarrassment to America.
Rae hated to admit it, but Pershing was right. Elliot Frémont more or less thought most southerners hated blacks and lived in trailer parks.
Rae was as liberal as they came, but he was liberal in the sense that he actually listened and tried to understand the other side's argument, even if he didn't agree with it. Frémont though, he was the kind of liberal who thought that his liberalism made him morally superior.
It was that type of attitude that was losing Progressive Party support across the country, and it was that type of attitude that would draw the Democratic States into a second war between the states.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Myroria on May 08, 2007, 10:33:25 PM

Quote

To President Frémont,

I am quite disturbed by your actions in attempting to prevent the Southern states from seceding. Was America not based on the principles of self-determination and democracy? If the Southern states vote to secede, should they not be allowed to? Your actions are no better than those of a dictator. I am not afraid to intervene on the South's behalf, so I suggest you withdraw your troops and allow the South to pick its own fate.

Peté Tar-Ilium, Empeurer of Myroria.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 09, 2007, 05:17:49 AM

Scenes on new stations across the DSA showed scenes of Active Duty and Reserve Army units moving into major cities of the states that were believed to be the most likely borders for any Neo-Confederate nation which may arise amid the curren chaos.

 The scenes were what one would expect in nearly any nation save for America, college students throwing home made bombs at APC's and tanks, store fronts painted with slogans such as "Yankee Go Home!!" and "Fuck Fremont!" were common place. Many buildings hung the now outlawed Confederate Flag from windows as citizens took to the streets in even larger cities such as Richmond and Lexington, turning the riots that had formed from the protest into an all out battle, regardless of how lopsided it may have been.       

 Opinion of Fremont and the of the American federal government declined dramatically after the military occupation of the potentially seperatist states with a vast majority of southerners supporting any action taken, upto and including seccession, and even nearly half of northerners saying that they couldn't blame the South if she secceeded at this point. The flip side of the coin featured extreme leftists in the liberal metropoli holding demonstrations, "No Sovereignty for Bigots!" proclaimed one sign.

 In Alabama, the states National Guard and a good portion of it's DS Army Reserve Units were already acting under a bannder of de facto independance, having refused direct orders from Washington to quell pro seccession demonstrations in Tobiasburgh and Montgomery, where the governors of the would be seccessionist states were meeting in an underground bunker.

 Pershing, Anderson, and Chamberlain were also in attendance, though not governors, all three men held prominient positions in League of The South, making them keystones to any would be agreement reached by the other attendees. Over two legisative members from each attending were also present, totalling 40 in all. States in attendance included :

Virginia
North Carolina
South Carolina
Georgia
Florida
Alabama
Kentucky
Tennessee
Mississippi
Missouri
Arkansas
Louisiana
Texas
Mexico
Arizona
Nevada
Baja
Sequoyah
Deseret
Kansas   

 In front of the assembly Pershing began pleading the case for secession.

 "The American Government, under the Fremont administration, has for years continued a policy of cultural bigotry and genocide, preaching against one form of predjudice whilst propogating another. It has at every opportunity usurped the God given rights of Americans to express themselves as they see fit, to speak their mind and their hearts. In the name of political correctness the shackles of censorship have been locked around our wrists, under the guise of social reform our people are slowly being taxed into poverty, increasing the need for further social reform.
 
 To demonstrate the true nature of this crazed lunatic, the army has been deployed against it's own people for the first time in nearly 200 years, making a peaceful amicable resoultion of our differences impossible.

 Ladies and gentlmen, the time to act is now! Let us speak with one voice of freedom lest our cries of outrage be muffled as our free will dies a slow and suffocating death at the hands of imbeciles! I am ready to become a casulty of war, that our freedom may not follow suit. The choice is ours.

 We do not stand alone, and though I hope that all nations will excercise restraint in becoming involved in any war on the American continent, we may remind the Yankees that they are not the only ones with friends in high places. Not only is freedom within our grasp, it is virtually assured to us, if we but have the courage to reach out for it.

 I leave this to you now each and every one of you has a decision to make. May common sense and justice be your guides."

 Pershing spun about and returned to his seat. Already heated arguments both for and against seccession had begun in the room, with some Governors on their phones trying to ascertain the military strength within their states. As the hours passed, the scenes on television grew more and more gruesome, as even the military forces sent to stifle the rebellions began to fight amongst themselves. 

 The states most ready to secceede were the ones which were already under martial law, those least ready being those with significant numbers of residents who came from the north, or with a large percentage of hispanics residing within, out of fear that the Confederate government would treat them no better than the DSA was doing.

 When all was said and done, 13 states voted in favour of secession.

Kentucky
Virgina
Missouri
North Carolina
South Carolina
Tennessee
Mississippi
Alabama
Texas
Louisiana
Arkansas
Florida
Seqoyah

 Upon reaching of the concensus, Jack Anderson produced a document which he had written during the hours of discussion amongst the Governors.

 "This here, if my time in law school serves me well, should serve as a sound enough consitution to get things rolling, we're flying by the seat of our pants here, but we can always amend by majority vote until we have something more formal to work with. This however should serve as legal and binding in an international court."

 One by one the paper made it's way around the room, with Pershing making the only alteration, to the very first line by way of a fountain pen scratch, and a quick write in by hand.         

Quote

   Provisional Constitution of <s>The Southern Confederation</s>
                                        The Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie


 Wheras it is established as fact that the freedom and self determination of the citizens of the southern states of the Democratic States of America are placed in position of peril by a reckless and irresponsible government.

 Wheras said government has blatantly violated and disregarded the authority of the Consitution without remorse or regard for consequence.

 Wheras we seek to preserve the culture and identity of our region,the rights of it's citizens, and the principals on which the Founding Fathers of the Democratic States of America built said nation....

 We, the undersigned, as legal representatives of each's respective state and each of fit and active mind do herby assert our seperation and secession from the Democratic States of America and the formation of a Confederation of states with the intent of better serving the needs and desires of it's citizenry.

 The establishment of the Executive branch is hereby called for, a President to be chosen by majority vote of the undersigned representatives.

 The establishment of a Legislative branch is herby called for and shall consist of one elected representative per 500,000 citzens of legal voting age.

 The establishment of a Judicial Branch to be appointed by the President.

 The appointment of a commander in chief of the armed forces as per the decision of the president and the ratification of the legislature.

 This document is provisionary and is to be superceeded by a later constitution pending ratification by three quarters of the member states.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 09, 2007, 07:47:36 AM

 One by one the Governors and Legislators lined up and affixed their names to the document. In repayment for favours owed, Pershing allowed some old friends from FXX news to tape the unceremonious ceremony for later airing. After signatures were affixed, and many a sweaty brow wiped, Pershing began again.

 "Guys, I'm not a politician, I can turn a pretty phrase, but my home is not on the campaign trail, all that I have done, I have done out of a need to secure a better future for us all, and because I do not feel that a person such as Fremont should be allowed to peddle his bullshit hand over fist to people at whim.

 There is a man among us who has done more for the South than anyone I know. Hell, the poor bastard hasn't slept for a week as far as I know, and he hasn't even had the benifit of a glass of whiskey. I would like to submit for your approval, my nomination of Jack Anderson for President."

 Those gathered murmured amongst themselves for a moment, with William Barkley, governor of Tennessee finally speaking aloud to all.

 "Anderson is a fine man, a fine man indeed and no one doubts his abilities. I would like to see an alternative however, so that those here may at least have a choice, I therefore nominate Senator Irving Halsey of Kentucky for the office of President. Senator Halsey, sir, do you accept the nomination?"

 Halsey's jowles shook as he laughed, "Well Bill, I don't see as I have much choice."

 Chaimberlain rose, "Very well then, does either candidate have anything they wish to say before we take a vote, we've already got people getting killed out there, we need to step things up a bit here."

 Anderson looked at Halsey, who in turn looked at Anderson. Both men remained silent.

 "All those who cast their vote for Halsey, raise your right hand." Announced Chamberlain. Ten hands arose.

 "All those for Anderson, raise your right hand" Those who had not voted for Hasley now cast their vote for Anderson.

  Chamberlain declared. "Congratulations President Anderson."

 Governor Bainbridge of South Carolina shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Look guys, we adopted a constitution, secceeded, and elected a president in less than 36 hours.... aren't we going a bit fast? I mean, yes we were elected by the people, and while the people may approve of us being here, by now it's no secret I'm sure, they may think we've jumped the gun a bit."

 Pershing nodded, "Possibly, but would you have us take monhts to do this, while we're disorganised and the damnyankees are raining bombs on our fucking heads? Look, when things settle down, and we're rid of the yanks, we'll do things right an proper, but for now, we need a working government, we can't afford to wait."

 Halsey nodded "He's right, we've gotta get our shit together now while we can. We can hold elections and what all else after we're sure there will be a government to elect."

 Nods of collective agreement gave way to a quiet war of discussion amongst the politicians. President Anderson broke through the cacophony. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we still have some business to sort out. I don't want a war, but it would seem that Fremont is gonna give us one regardless. We need time, and we need political legitimacy, the best way to do this, I feel, is to give the yanks a 48 hour ultimatum, pull your troops out and recognise the CSSD, or have a war on their hands. This will not only buy us time to get our ducks in a row, but also show the rest of the world that if we have this war, it's because of Fremont, not us. If he doesnt pull out........ Frasier.....?"

Pershing looked up from his whiskey bottle. "Yes Ja... er.. Mr. President?"

 Anderson laughed, "If the damnyankees don't pull out, it's your show, give 'em hell. We'll do our best to make sure you have what you need."

 Pershing nodded. "Yes sir."

 That evening, the Governors Conference on Seccession was broadcast on FXX. Afterwards, Anderson made an address directed at the DSA and the world. He sat in a modest desk, wearing a grey suit, a green tie, red rims around his bloodshot and glassy eyes belied his lack of sleep. His sandy blonde hair slightly disheveled.

 "Good evening, as you are now aware, in an emergency session consisting of the governors of the 13 secessionist states, plus 7 non seceeding states, I was elected President on a provisional basis, and granted full authority over the 13 states currently consisting of the Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie. I wish tonight to urge all civilians to remain calm, and civil, stay inside your homes, and do not antagonise DSA forces if you are in an occupied city.

 To President Fremont, you are hereby given 48 hours to remove all DS forces from Confederate soil, or we shall consider your continued presence an act of war and respond accordingly. General Frasier Pershing has been named Commander in Chief of the armed forces, and stands at the ready to expel your invading army by force. Any citizen within the secceeding states who wishes to remain a citizen of the DSA is asked to leave and is also given 48 hours to do so, travel will be supplied at no expense to you, please contact local or state authorities for details.

 We are aware of the current geopolitical climate, and we shall not tolerate our fight for freedom being turned into an excuse to ignite a global conflagration. We ask all nations to excercise restraint, and to not act without first consuting our government.

 We have a potentially long road ahead of us, but rest assured, we shall prevail.

 Good night."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Myroria on May 10, 2007, 09:44:44 PM

"Good day, my fellow countrymen." The Empeurer began, TV cameras rolling inside the parlour of the Imperial Family's country home.

"Earlier today I recieved news that the Southron states of the Democratic States of America declared their secession and formation of the Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie.

I'm sure many of you have heard of the turmoil in the DSA recently. They have denied the South their right of freedom of speech and subjugated them, stereotyped them.

The horrors of the South during the segregation and slavery era is no more. Many Southroners have a respect for their black countrymen, and I see no reason that the South, being the model for freedom that their mother country is not, should not secede.

As such, the Myrorian Empereum recognizes at 6:00 PM Myrorian Standard Time that the Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie are a free and independent nation, and at any time past then, DSA occupation is illegal and immoral.

I hope I have your support today, fellow Myrorians, for today, we are all Southroners. Good night."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Zimmerwald on May 11, 2007, 12:42:28 AM

Part of him just wanted to say "fuck the South" and not continue to bother with the issue.  That at least was what Feng had advised when Aram had posed the question.

"Any involvement will surely involve military, and therefore naval, force, and we don't have the power to involve ourselves abroad over a protracted period of time," he had admonished.  But what did Viktor know?  An America that was confronting civil war couldn't possibly formulate an assault on the islands, still less the mainland, and they seemed to be without allies.

What was worse, the Myrorians had decided to jump right in and recognize the new government of Dixie.  Why did they have to do that, Aram wondered to himself, a question that was quickly replaced in his mind by Why did they seceede in the first place.  They knew they could expect our support in a free speech battle...

Which led to an even thornier question.  If Gallipoli-China supported the South in a war, that would earn the enmity of the North.  And the South, judging by their provisional Constitution, would be decidedly Liberal.  That is, free-market, social libertarian types.  And fierce in their convictions, unlike the more compromise-prone government currently in power in Washington.  They wouldn't want help from the Left.  But the other two options, sitting tight or supporting the North, were worse; it's the old argument that says imperialism must be resisted everywhere.

Well, whatever he did, he wasn't writing any more notes.  That had certainly failed.  Something more dramatic, more public, was called for.

(see GCWN for more)

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 11, 2007, 05:53:57 AM

 President Anderson, General Pershing, and Secretary of State Chamberlain viewed the Empereur's address as it was televised on FXX. Anderson was the first to comment.

 "Well, I'll be damned, I never would've thought we'd get this kind of reaction abroad."

 Pershing replied matter of factly. "Of course we did, in fact, we even have offers of aid from Gallipoli-China, and Inglo-Scotia more than likely has troops on the way. I think that in terms of outside help, we should only accept that of the Inglo-Scotians, lest we run the risk of one tremendous shitstorm.

 "Agreed," Commented Chamberlain, "The more help we have, the more likely the yanks are to respond in kind, or try to."

 Anderson then swiveled in his chair to face Pershing. "It's pretty much a sure thing that Fremont is not going to pull out in time to meet the deadline, to do otherwise would... well, just make too much sense for him. Where do we stand in our ability to launch a counter offensive?"

 Pershing sighed. "Well, Jack, it's not as good as I would have hoped, but better than we may have feared. Basically, what we're looking at here, is dislodging the buldge of the yankee army, concentrated in Tenessee and Kentucky, while trying to defend against coastal invasion."

 Anderson's eyes widened slightly. "Coastal invasion?"

"Yes," replied Pershing, "the yank's best bet would probably be to try to cut us in two, they are already so close to the 'bama border you could probably spit and hit a yankee tank. so that means the most likely landing point for any amphibious assault would be along the Mississippi, Alabama, or Louisiana coast. From any point along that area, they would be in prime position to mount an assault that would split us in two, something we want to avoid at all costs."

 He lit a cigarette, and continued. "But, I can push them out of Tennessee, and probably Kentucky as well, An ingantry and light armour push into southern Tennessee, the left flank consisting of most of our heavy armour, bypassing the most mountainous areas, swinging around, if we play it right, I can herd the sons of bitches north east, maybe even gaining a toehold on yankee soil in Ohio or Pennsylvania."

 "Sounds like it may just work," Andersons voice sounding slightly relieved, but not by much. "How are the numbers working out?"

 Pershing laughed to himself, somehow, with Jack, it always came back down to the numbers. He was about as imaginative as a piece of coal. Pershing broke it down in terms he figured Anderson would be most interested in.

 "We have just over 500,000 ground troops, most of the military bases secceeded along with us and those who didn't went back north to aid the yankee invasion of the border states. We have enough planes to get by, and naval wise, we're looking at 2 carriers, 5 cruisers, 5 frigates, and 3 subs. But, with your permission, I'd like to see about procuring some more arms from some of these nations which have expressed an interest in aiding us, as well as asking the Ozian Mafia if they'd be willing to part with some ships for the right price."

 Chamberlain raised his head with a startled look. "The Ozian Mafia?! Jesus Christ, Frasier, is that the image we want to portray going into this thing? That we would deal with the likes of them?"

 Pershings stare was hard, cold, and unwavering. "Mikey, I don't give a rats ass about our image at this point, if we don't win this thing, we won't have a goddamn image because we'll be smeared all over the fucking pavement!"

 Chamberlain's gaze moved downward, he didn't like what Pershing had said, yet knew it to be true. "Fine, we do what we gotta do."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Khem on May 11, 2007, 07:40:26 AM

Quote

Dear President Anderson,

 We here in Uichi Ryu are strong supporters of what you are doing. We just wished to express our support of your liberation.

 sincerely,
Prime Minister Black

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Mor'os on May 11, 2007, 12:44:15 PM

Quote

Honored President Fremont of the Democratic States of America,

Despite the reactions of others to the rebellious nature of your territories and their actions, I none the less lend you my support in this conflict. The nature of those who support the Secessionists is telling. Myroria, a country I am told wherein the affairs of the state are run by the selfish and prideful interests of the nobility, and in which the good and common people are robbed of their right to petition the government. Here in Mor'os we have only so recently freed ourselves of such a frightful system, and I assure you that should the rebels in your midst be associated with such then they shall find themselves out of Heaven's favor and mandate.

Rebellion such as this is only the gateway to anarchy and disorder in an already too chaotic world. I pray that they will be swiftly put down, and that order and peace will be fully restored. I shall refuse to recognize any purported state on the part of the secessionists, and will refuse to even humor any petition of the Assembly of Petitioners to the effect, though I doubt such will be the case. The people of Mor'os too are wary of the wickedness of nobility and its associates.

Heaven's good will be with you.

Osmar Dalēn
Ten on shi us om on tok dal chi

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on May 12, 2007, 02:59:59 AM

The emergency session of Parliament had been called. All 646, 642 Action Party members and 4 seats reserved for the Speaker of the House and his deputies, sat quietly.
The man who called the emergency session, the Lord Protector, Stephen Crofts, took his seat as the MP from Cambrington.
Crofts' style of dress this evening could have told anyone what was about to happen. Instead of a white cotton collared shirt and a black denim jacket, the Lord Protector wore the crisp uniform of a Field Marshal, the rank he held during the Victorious Revolution. The crisp, black jacket, pants, and tie contrasted with the white collared shirt underneath, and the belt/slash combo pulled the uniform to his body, giving off the sense that he meant business.

Twelve men in similar, but also very different, uniforms, took their place around the perimeter of the chamber. These were armed Major-Generals. Their uniforms were very much like the army's, as Crofts was wearing. The M-G uniforms, however, featured white piping around the shoulders, and the belt/slash combo was white rather then black. The M-G's also wore black berets, with a red "V" in the centre, the leather band around the base also white. They also carried their own I-S Tavor TAR-21 assault riffle, and each had a J-941 pistol at their hip.
At the entrance to the chamber a small camera crew from CNS was set up, this session was going to be aired nationally, and eventually internationally.

"This session of the First Parliament of the Commonwealth, called at 10 o'clock pm on Friday, May 11, 2007 is now in session" the Speaker of the House announced, opening the session.
"The chair recognizes the MP from Cambrington, the Lord Protector of the Commonwealth, Stephen Crofts."

Crofts rose from his seat slowly to a round of applause as he took the podium in the centre of the chamber.
"We have avenged the attack on our ally the Irnotian Empire by striking quickly and decisively at the Kingdom of Gaulasia" the Lord Protector opened, in a calm voice.
"Yet the Commonwealth is again needed to assist a friend."
Crofts was slowly bringing his tone to the fiery level that toppled an empire five years before.

"The act of aggression on behalf of the American President Elliot Frémont on the sovereign nation of the Southern American sub-continent is one of the most barbaric acts of aggression in the history of man-kind.
This Commonwealth can not, nay WILL not, stand by and allow the sovereignty of an independent nation be threatened by those wishing to enact cultural and spiritual genocide!
I stand here before you to propose history.
I stand here to propose a bill, who's two parts will forever shape the future of the human race.
Section 1" he read,
"The Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia, as of May 11, 2007, recognizes the Confederate States of Dixie as an independent and sovereign nation, entitled to the rights and privileges of said status.
Section 2, the Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia declares a state of war between itself and the Democratic States of America."

Parliament rose to its feet in applause, the MPs all registering their votes electronically in between claps.
"642 Votes FOR" the screen over the chamber read.
"The Bill passes unanimously" the Speaker announced, banging his gavel to close the session.

Crofts stood their, his arms slightly raised, taking in the applause.
One of the MPs, however, sat down a little bit early.
Erik Destler, one of the MPs from New Beaconsfield, and also Crofts' Consul of Foreign Affairs, took a long drag on his fag (cigarette) before taking out his cell phone.

"It's passed. Set sail" he typed into the text-message screen, pressing send.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Admiral Thomas Paine of the Commonwealth Navy stood on the deck of his flag-ship the CSS Republica when his cell phone beeped.
Flipping it open he selected "New Message."
He looked to his right, at Field Marshall Theriot.
"It's done" he informed the Field Marshall.
"To America then" Theriot responded, looking up at the stars.

And with that the Western Fleet, the vast majority of the Commonwealth Navy, carrying 500,000 Commonwealth soldiers and army vehicles, set sail for the American war.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 14, 2007, 02:49:21 AM

 President Anderson sat and rubbed his temples. This damn headache had been almost constant since the moment he accepted the position as President. He fumbled on the desk, found the comforting form of the bottle of aspirin beneath his fingertips, clutching it as if his life depended on it, he opened the bottle, took three tablets and chewed them. The taste was horrible, but he didnt feel like waiting for pills to dissolve. He tried to wash the bitter acidic taste from his mouth with some water, but had no luck. He eyed a bottle of whiskey he had on the counter behind him, one that was kept for when Frasier Pershing came by.

"Oh, what the hell." He said to no one in particular as he drank a healthy swig from the bottle. First came the burn, a horrendous scalding of his esophogus, followed by chills down his spine and arms. As his face contorted, he wondered why he'd wagered that the taste of straight whiskey would be better than the aspirin in the first place.

 He looked at the communications before him which had arrived from other nations. He really didn't know how to respond, the outcry of support for The Confederacy was staggering, but he feared that too much support would lead to military involvement by a host of nations, sparking a world war, which seemed to be on the horizon anyways, but why give them the reason?

 He drafted the following responses,

 

Quote

To the Government of Uichi Ryu

 We appreciate your words of support, thank you.

 President Jack Anderson

 Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie

 

Quote

 To Empereur Tar-Ilium

 We thank you for your support, should further assistance be needed, we shall call upon you.

 President Jack Anderson
 Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie

 As he sealed the letters in their respective envelopes, Secretary of State Chamberlain entered the office. On his face he wore relief.

 "Mr. President, the Inglo Scotian Parliament has passed a unanimous declaration of war against the DSA. Their navy is currently en route."

 Anderson sighed. "That is good, but have we had anything in the way of response from Fremont?"

 "No sir. And DSA forces still occupy the border states."

 Anderson's face was long with worry. "Are we then to take that as their response? Or are we to assume that that are formulating a response?"

 Chamberlain's answer was the only one he could give... "I don't know, Mr. President."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on May 15, 2007, 04:32:09 AM

Captain Chris Mason and First Lieutenant Rob Sullivan were having trouble adjusting to the heat.
They were both from Massachusetts, and neither of them were used to the muggy humidity of southern Tennessee. They both sat in Mason's command tent, waiting for orders.

"When the hell can we kick some hick ass?" Sullivan wondered allowed, starring blankly up at the tent's "roof."
"I mean they've already fucking seceded, why don't we just march in there and kick some sense into them?"

"I have no fucking idea" Mason replied.

Indeed, Frémont seemed to be buckling now that war seemed inevitable.
He refused to talk respond to Jake Anderson's ultimatum either way. He refused to recognize Anderson as the head of state of a sovereign nation, thus acknowledging the Confederacy's independence. On the other hand he still hadn't authorized the army in the occupied border states to move against the un-occupied Confederacy.

He had ordered a blockade of the CSSD, and it seemed like it would see its first action against the approaching Commonwealth navy. Ironically the first major battle of the Second War Between the States would be between the DSA and a foreign power....
----------------------------------------
Five hours later, off the coast of the Confederacy

"Sir! We just lost the Hornet!"
"Damn!" Admiral Owen Forrester yelled, sweeping the model aircraft carrier that represented the DSS Hornet off of the war map.
A dull explosion rocked the Yorktown, Forrester's flagship vessel, a battle cruiser.
"The Kraken again" he said to himself. That Inglo-Scotian dreadnought had been hunting him all day.

They were in a pickle. The President had made it clear he wanted New Cambrington, Louisiana, the gateway to the Mississippi River, in DS hands by the end of the day.
Forrester had begged him to reconsider, that they had to hold strong for the impending Inglo-Scotian arrival. Still, the President pressed on, and the Yanks had been caught with their pants down, attacked at the very moment 1/3 of the blockade had it's back turned in preparation for an attack on New Cambrington.
Now they were paying for it. Two carriers were lost at the hands of Commonwealth subs, and the I-S Tornado fighters picked off the baseless DS F/A-18 jets.
"I told that fool this would happen" he kept telling himself, in an attempt to let the rage out in harmless intervals. You don't turn your back on the navy that wrote the textbook on modern naval warfare and get away with it.

"Sir, the CSS Colossus just sunk the Franklin."
"Our only fucking dreadnought is scrap metal" he sighed.
Now he faced a tough choice. He could hold his position, and stall the inevitable I-S breakthrough, losing more ships in the process, or he could let them through now, regroup, and work on keeping them in Confederate waters, and extra ships and supplies out.
"Break formation!" he yelled.
"Excuse me sir?" his XO asked.
"Break our damn formation. We can't hold them back, might as well let them in while we still have something of a fleet left."
"Break formation!" the XO yelled, relaying the order to the CO.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 16, 2007, 05:22:42 PM

 President Jack Anderson was infuriated. Fremont's silence was an outrageous insult, and one for which Anderson was determined to make Fremont pay dearly. A working capital had been set up in Montgomery Alabama, and now, in front of 200 gathered representatives from various states that made up the New Confederacy, Anderson now spoke.

 "We are all here, because evidently Fremont is not all there!" A line he had stolen from Pershing during the prior nights phone conversation. It paid off, the laughter lightened a mood which was in dire need of it. "As I speak, the Inglish Navy is engaged with a yankee carrier group off the coast of New Cambrington. I have sat and waited for Fremont's reply, and have gotten nothing in return. Today, we shall wait no more. I ask this body to pass a motion declaring that a state of war now exists between the Democratic States of America, and the Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie."

 Solid applause mixed with looked of dread filled the auditorium. "Dixie does not want war with our northern neighnors. In many cases, our family. However, when given no alternative, we shall not shy away, and we shall not back down. It is then with a heavy heart I ask you, declare war today, that we may have peace tommorrow." With that, Anderson turned and walked away from the podium, as Speaker of the Senate Alexander Beshear replaced him behind the microphone.

 "Motion of War Declaration has been requested. All those voting Aye? Raise your hands and hold them till count may be completed and verified."

 Five minutes later, Beshear spoke again. "All those against?" Hands were raised and the vote tallied.

 "Declaration of war passes 176 to 24."

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

 In northern Alabama, nearly 500,000 troops were amassed under the command of General of the Army Frasier J. Pershing. It wasn't half as many as he'd need or want, but it was a good start. A damn good one under the circumstances and such short notice. At the field HQ, Pershing watched Anderson's address on FXX, as well as the subsequent vote. Once the result was confirmed, Pershing ordered the nearly the entire Confederate Airforce to the skies, nearing 300 some odd aircraft. Long Range B-52's headed towards Washington, while F-18's, F-16's F-22's and F-117's headed towards DSA targets in southern Tennessee and south eastern Arkansas. On the ground, The Confederate Army began heading north as fast as their abilities permitted....

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

 South of the Louisiana Coast, Rear Admiral Felix Montgomery was heading south with what constituted the entire Confederate Navy, two carriers, the Enterprise and the Endevour, one battleship, the Missouri, five AEGIS cruisers and five nuclear attack submarines. The only vessels not present were the three SSBN's which had been sent out heading towards DSA waters to unleash God only knows what... as Montgomery had no clue. Seemed being only a rear admiral had more limitations that he had thought it would.

 "Capatain Barns... send a message to the Inglish and let them know we're on the way, if all goes well, we can cut off the yankee retreat and finish off their navy hear, so we don't have to worry about it later."

"Aye sir."

 Montgomery sat in silent thought for a moment.... "Get Enterprise turned into the wind, send out scouts, and I want attack wings at the ready."

"Yes sir!"

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on May 18, 2007, 11:02:22 PM

Admiral Thomas Paine stood on the deck of the carrier CSS Republica. He watched as the Tornados returned to the flight deck.
Despite the fact that he had broken through the American lines he wasn't particularly happy. He had expected it more or less. Even with years of growing DS military strength and a civil war in Inglo-Scotia, the Inglo-Scotian navy was still the class of the world. I-S was the first naval super power, and the pride the navy had for itself would outlast any political regime.

"Sir, over the wireless, a Captain Barns of the Confederate navy is offering to cut off American retreat."
"Tell them the Yanks are all theirs" the Admiral ordered his communications officer, refusing to break his forward glance.
"Aye sir."

"Captain Ross, inform Field Marshall Theriot that we are ending the pursuite of the American fleet, and that he should prepare his troops for landing.
"Aye Sir."

"Communications Officer Masterson, inform Confederate authorities in New Cambrington that we request dock space."
"Aye sir."
---------------------------------------------------------
"Stop pursuit of American naval forces?!?!" Captain Paul Moore of the attack sub CSS Suffrage asked, very angrily and confused.
"We have them on the run and the Admiral wants us to let them get away?"
"Sir" Moore's XO Commander Robert Graves responded, "the Admiral says the Confederate navy will take care of the American retreat and that our new orders are to escort the transfer ships to New Cambrington."
"The Confederate navy?" Moore asked astonished.
"Do those blokes even know what they're doing? Yes we're here to help 'em, but bloody hell, do they even have a navy worth a damn?"
"Sir, with all due respect that's not for us to determine. We were simply ordered to escort the transfer ships containing the Field Marshall's soldiers and equipment to port. We were assigned the Mercury"
"Yes..yes...of course.
Mr. Loren, change course to match that of the transport ship CSS Mercury."
"Aye sir."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on May 18, 2007, 11:48:42 PM

Quote from: Sovereign Dixie on May 16, 2007, 05:22:42 PM

In northern Alabama, nearly 500,000 troops were amassed under the command of General of the Army Frasier J. Pershing. It wasn't half as many as he'd need or want, but it was a good start. A damn good one under the circumstances and such short notice. At the field HQ, Pershing watched Anderson's address on FXX, as well as the subsequent vote. Once the result was confirmed, Pershing ordered the nearly the entire Confederate Airforce to the skies, nearing 300 some odd aircraft. Long Range B-52's headed towards Washington, while F-18's, F-16's F-22's and F-117's headed towards DSA targets in southern Tennessee and south eastern Arkansas. On the ground, The Confederate Army began heading north as fast as their abilities permitted....

Lieutenant-General Niel Custer of the 1st DS Army had finally gotten word from Washington to lead the march down from Tennessee into Alabama. His objective was New Croftshire. Before the south seceded it was known as New Tobiasburgh, named after Tobiasburgh in Inglo-Scotia, in reference to Tobias I, the first emperor of a united Inglo-Scotia. After the Victorious Revolution Crofts named the city after himself, and New Tobiasburgh followed suite when Crofts officially recognized the Confederacy.

Custer ordered his army of 900,000 men south. True, the locals would probably give them a verbal thrashing, the site of a green-grey army in Tennessee these days wasn't a welcome one, but Custer just didn't care. War was a necessary evil, but still an evil at that. If the south wanted to force war on the nation, it was their own damn fault, and he was going to make them pay for it. Custer's only regret was that he wasn't assigned to take Atlanta, and rip the very heart out of the CSSD's chest. New Croftshire, and later Montgomery, would do just as well though.

Two and a half hours after crossing into Alabama

"Sir, the rebel air force has been engaged by fighters out of Ohio and Indiana. Confederate bombing concerns are non-existent" Colonel Adam Kennedy informed the general.
"I doubt it will matter. They'll be finished off before their piss-poor air force could do anything anyway. Are we within shelling range?"
"Yes sir."
"Fire at will. When I send in the tanks and soldiers all I want them to have to do is clean things up."

"All artillery units, fire at will. I repeat fire on enemy forces at will" Kennedy ordered through the wireless.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 19, 2007, 12:24:40 AM

 The Confederate army had been marching north, when the skies above them seemed to open, and Satan's fist crashed down upon them. The artillery fell like the rain of the damned, soldiers ran for cover where ever they could find it, many of whom discovered after their arrival that they had lost a limb in the process.

 One private had been running to take cover behind an oak tree, when he suddenly found himself on the ground, looking down he discovered that what had once been his left leg was now little more than a bloody nub. Shock and panic filled him as he screamed.

"Aw shit!! Aw shit!! Holy goat fucking shit!!"

 Shells screamed overhead, slowly, the Confederate guns began replying in kind, MLRS launchers began firing salvo after salvo in the direction of the incoming artillery. The wounded soldier withdrew his emergency med pack, finding the morphine syringe he injected himself, wincing at the sight of the needle entering his skin. Through muffled ears he heard someone scream for the medic, too out of it to speak, he could only hope it was meant for him.

 Pershing had been riding in the cuppola of an M1A2 main battle tank when the ground around him began exploding. He was not impressed.

 " Fucking pole smoking whores!! Marty?!!? Marty?!?! Goddammit man, where the fuck are you! He screamed into his headset."

 Martin MacKenzie's reply was audibly rattled, "Yes sir?"

 "They caught us with our pants down! All forward units are to pull back to positions five miles south....." He stopped and looked around him. He leaned down inside of the tank... "Someone hand me a map! Now!" The tank driver managed to locate one, handing it to Pershing.

 "Sir.. fall back.. are those your orders?" Asked MacKenzie.

 "Hold on a minute son..."

 Pershing eyed the map for a moment, then looking up and around him, back down at the map... His eyes widened and he grinned. "Son of a bitch!"

 "Sir?"

 "Never mind son, All forward units fall back five miles, fighting retreat, we want the bastards to follow us. Units to the rear and left flank, head west by north west, the trees should mask our movement, once they've arrived, they are to wait for further orders.

 "Yes sir"

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

 Admiral Montgomery waited on the bridge of the Enterprise, the scouts had been out for nearly half an hour but still no word of reply from them.

  "They've got to be out there somewhere..." He said to no one in particular.

 "Sir, we should get some better eyes up there, let me launch the AWACS, we'll have much better visibliity that way."

 "Negative, the moment we put that thing up there, we may as well send the yankees an ingraved invitation to come blow us out of the sea. If we're going to get them, we need to catch 'em where he doesn't think we'll be."

 "Mother Goose, this is foxtrot, enemy fleet sighted three carriers and escorts, bearing two six zero heading south east."

 The communications officer acknoledged. "This is Mother Goose, rodger foxtrot, three yank flattops bearing two six zero heading southeast."

 The report was called up to the Admiral.

 "Hot damn! We got 'em. Launch all we've got, signal Endevour, and have her do the same."

 "Aye sir."

 Two by two the F-18's lifted off of the decks of the two Confederate Carriers, heading towards the DSA fleet....

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on May 19, 2007, 12:58:20 AM

The booming of the artillery cannons stopped suddenly, and an eerie silence fell over the fields of northern Alabama.
"Send the 1st and 2nd Armoured brigades in, with the 157th and 188th infantries in to clean up what's left of them" General Custer commanded.
"Colonel" he went on, to Adam Kennedy, "you're in charge. Head south."
"Sir, with all due respect I think you should come along."
"Colonel" Custer responded, "what's left of Pershing's army probably won't put up much of a fight. You head south, finish them off, and wait for me to catch up before we start heading toward New Croftshire.
Simply put colonel, I'm not needed, so I'm not going. And if you question me again I'll bump you down to lieutenant. I will not tolerate insubordination, I'll sniff it out before it gets started. Now head south Colonel."
"Yes sir" Kennedy responded, glaring into the general's eyes.

Quickly turning he got on the wireless.
"1st and 2nd armoured divisions, 157th and 188th infantry, prepare to peruse enemy."
He quickly flagged a Hummer armoured vehicle.
"Get me to the front lines of the 1st armoured division now" he commanded.
-------------------------------------------------
"Sir, enemy carriers approaching...they're Confederate" the wireless reported to Admiral Forrester aboard the Yorktown.
"Rather them then the Limies" he sighed.

"Under attack, we are under attack, all remaining ships engage enemy" he yelled through the radio.

Mitch Sloan raced back into the seat of his F-18 faster then any other aviator aboard the Yorktown. He was almost shot hit his last time out against the Inglo-Scotians, but this was different. This time he would be shooting at rebels.
He had nothing against the Limies, but the rebels were different. He would really take it to them now.
"Fighter 12/E, you're free to launch."
He was given the green light. Adrenaline pumped through his body as his jet zoomed off the carrier.
"Approaching enemy fighters..." his squadron leader called over the wireless.
Then it happened. His leader's jet exploded, as he saw him eject in time and slowly fall to the ocean's surface. It had gone from nothing to chaos in a matter of minuets.

It truly was chaos. With the Inglo-Scotians you could tell who they were. The Tornadoes looked different enough from the F-18s that you didn't need to see the Inglo-Scotian "V" roundels to tell who was who.
Here, everyone was flying F-18s. Mitch had to be sure a fighter had the hastily applied Confederate Battle Flag roundel (http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b68/IC79/Inglo-Scotia/2CSDroundel.png) and not the DSA's eagle and crossed sabres (http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b68/IC79/Inglo-Scotia/DSAroundel.png) before opening fire.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on May 19, 2007, 01:41:21 AM

"Field Marshal Theriot has docked in New Cambrington" Captain Stanley Ross informed Admiral Paine.
"The fleet is awaiting further orders."

Paine walked to the back of bridge of the Republica. He pulled his necklace out from under his tunic to reveal a key.
He unlocked a safe, handing it's contents, a folder, to the captain.
"There. The assignments for the entire fleet. Most will stay here to patrol the Confederate coastline.
The carriers Pegasus, CSS Storm, and Daring will go north to launch bombing raids on Philadelphia, New Yorkshire, New Ustio, and Boston.
"Aye sir."
-----------------------------------------------------------
[JLA announcer voice]Meanwhile....[/JLA announcer voice]
The landing boats had been launched toward New Cambrington, but according to Inglo-Scotian military tradition none of them could unload until the commanding officer landed.

The landing boat carrying the Field Marshal docked. Five Inglo-Scotian soldiers made their way onto the dock to "secure" the area. The last one helped the Field Marshall out.
Andrew Theriot was an imposing man. He was six foot four, thick shoulders, and a main of slicked back blond hair that was already turning grey.
After glancing around he began heading toward the city, the five soldiers in tow.

Two Confederate soldiers and a Confederate officer made their way down to meet him. The CSSD's grey officer's uniforms and the grey/khaki camo uniform for soldiers seemed better suited for the Louisiana heat then the Commonwealth black the officers and soldiers of Inglo-Scotia wore.

The two parties were face to face.
Theriot clenched his right fist and brought it to his left shoulder in the Commonwealth salute.
"Field Marshal Andrew Theriot, commanding officer of the 8th Commonwealth Army, reporting for duty."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 19, 2007, 01:50:13 AM

 Pershing rode south with the rest of the forward divisions, the report came in from 5th armoured, trailing a bit behind them.
 
 "Sir, enemy is in pursuit looks like four or five divisions."

 Pershing snorted, yankee bastard was playing it safe. "Keep firing till we get to our positions, then engage and hold them where they're at.

 "Yes sir."

 Fire was sporadic along the route south, The Confederate army moving just slow enough so as to keep their pursuers in sight, just fast enough to give the appearance of a full on retreat. Pershing waited silently once position was reached, and the previously retreating units had re-engaged the DSA Army in earnest.

 His binoculars in hand, he peered out over the landscape...

 "Wait.. wait... wait for it..."

 The Confederate front line began to give way, tanks falling into retreat as others exploded in balls of fire and smoke. Pershing screamed into the headset.

 "All units engage! Flanking units, converge on enemies' right flank!"

 Confederate artillery in the west opened up on the yankee positions, as tanks and APC's charged down the hill towards the DSA position.

 Pershing watched as the shells began raining down on the DSA army, their soldiers scattering about in confusion. A dust stained grin on his face as he bellowed...

 "Custer, you incompetent bastard! I'll have your ass!"

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

 The Confederate F-18's were going toe to toe with their DS counterparts, and having much better results than they'd thought they would enjoy.

 Lt. Cmdr William Barkley looked around him, and seen nearly identical fighters dancing about, trying to get visual confirmation before firing, often it coming too late for the pilot, who had themselves been picked off by (hopefully) an opposing fighter.

 "This is getting us no where and fast..." He fastened his face mask. "This is Badger 1, head in towards the carriers, blow your load, and get the hell out!"

 The CSSD fighter wings descended upon the yankee flat tops as their fighter escorts dived in pursuit. Getting within range, Barkley armed his missiles, and one by one flicked up the firing switches.

 Nothing to do at the moment but watch and wait....

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on May 19, 2007, 03:25:09 AM

"Holy mother of G-d" Kennedy yelled. It came out of no where. One moment he had Pershing on the run, the next his own me were running for their lives.

"Do not retreat!" he yelled into his walkie-talkie.
"DO NOT RETREAT DAMN IT!" he yelled. Some tanks were still moving forward, firing into the enemy's heart, but most were falling back.
"General Custer, requesting backup!"
"What the hell? What's going on?"
"They played us for chumps General, we were ambushed."

"Damn it Kennedy" Custer mumbled.
"All units, move forward, prepare to engage rebel forces" Custer commanded over the wireless.
"Pershing, you son of a bitch, don't start what you can't finish."


Kennedy had managed to stop the DS retreat. His troops had dug trenches, and artillery was firing at full capacity.
Kennedy started to notice that amount of artillery landing on the Confederate lines was increasing.
"Here to save the day Colonel" Custer yelled through the intercom.
"If it wasn't for your dad I doubt you'd make it past Lieutenant" he added.
"Fuck you" Kennedy said under his breath, making sure his end of the walkie-talkie was off.
"Maybe we wouldn't be in this situation if you didn't send me here with four fucking brigades."
---------------------------------------------------------
"Fire!" officers yelled as Confederate F-18s bombarded what was left of the DSA blockade fleet.
The anti-aircraft weapons blackened the sky with gun powder and the smoke from small surface-to-air missiles.

Suddenly a loud explosion rocked the Yorktown. Forrester turned his head toward the window so fast he nearly broke his neck.
"SHIT! The Philadelphia's gone!" he yelled as he watched one of his last carriers explode and sink, apparently all at the same time.

Just then a defining crack ripped though the bridge of the Yorktown.
"Sir, we're hit, and taking water fast!" an ensign said, running into the bridge.

"This is Admiral Forrester, abandon ship, I repeat abandon ship!" the PA announced.
"Are you coming?" his XO asked him, one foot out the door.
"No, I'm going down with my ship" the Admiral replied.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 19, 2007, 04:07:17 AM

 Colonel Maynard saluted Field Marshal Theriot.

 "Good to have you here, Field Marshal, sir. I've been asked to escort you to a secure location, where the President has requested a video conference with you."

 Theriot nodded, "Works for me, lead the way Colonel."

 "Yes sir." Maynard saluted again as he led Theriot to an armoured vehicle which was waiting nearby. From there proceeding to an office building in downtown New Cambrington. The two officers and their escorts entered the building where they proceeded down a staircase to a room sealed with a steel door.

 "One moment sir." Maynard said as he placed his hand on what appeared to be a black glass plate next to the door. Few seconds later, an female automated voice announced "Authorisation confirmed, you may enter". The door opened revealing a wooden conference table with a monitor placed at the head. A camera was placed at each of the tables eight seats. Colonel Maynard and Field Marshal Theriot sat on opposite sides while the escorting soldiers left the room, the door sealing shut behind them.

 The monitor came to life, President Anderson appearing on the screen.

 "Good evening Field Marshal, we're grateful to have you here. I understand the yanks tried to hamper your arrival."

 Theriot smiled, "If you want to call it that, Mr. President, it's just as well, our navy hadn't had a live fire excersize in quite a while. But i'm here now, more forces are landing as we speak, I have orders to assist your government in whatever manner you deem fit."

 Anderson nodded. "Right now, General Pershing is having a hell of a time up north, the plan to liberate Tennessee and Arkansas was cut short by a pre-emptive ground assault by the DS Army. The battle is still going on, and at the moment it looks like it could go either way. It's doubtful your forces can make it up there in time as it stands now, still though, your orders are to rendesvous with General Pershing's army where the two of you will confer and decide how best to go about kicking the damnyankees out of here for good."

 Theriot nodded. "Sounds good to me." And with that, he stood up and walked out.

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

 "Custer, you arrogant fucking son of a one legged Gaulasian whore!" Pershing thundered at the sight of Custer's army re-enforcing the shattered DS lines.

 "General Pershing, sir, reports from the front lines aren't good artillery's coming down hard and fast, we can't hold much longer!"

 "Dammit Marty, I'm not fucking blind! Send orders to our right flank, charge into them with everything we've got, we've got to swing around behind and kick him in the ass! The rear man! Tell them to go for the fucking rear!! All forward and center units, move forward and attack! We've gotta keep the sons of bitches busy dealing with us, so they wont notice what's coming round behind!"

 "Yes sir!"

 Pershing flicked his cigarette out onto the ground, and sealed the cuppola on his tank as it rode towards the front lines.

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

 Lt. Cmdr Barkley's headphones were ringing with the whoops and cheers of the pilots as they seen the Yorktown burst into flames, as the Philadelphia was sucked into a flaming watery oblivion. They had lost nearly two dozen aircraft, but had taken out two of the three retreating carriers.

 "Sir, shall we go after the third?"

 "Negative, all wings, head back to base. send back the report, 2 yankee flat tops scratched. Returning to base."

 "Aye sir."

 Admiral Montgomery seemed unphased by the report of the victory. Captain Barnes was beaming.

 "Captain, there is still one more yankee carrier out there that we know about, and probably at least one more that we don't know about That means that at the absoloute best, we are now on equal footing in these waters. I want the Missouri, 2 cruisers, and 2 of the attack subs to proceed towards the remaining DS Naval forces at flank speed, orders to launch SSM's when within striking distance."

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

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on May 19, 2007, 04:36:51 AM

"Bloody hot huh?" Captain-General Vince Fox asked, as Theriot made his way down to the docks.
"It's going to get hotter" the Field Marshal replied.
"We move north to rendesvous with General Pershing at the earliest opportunity."

"Sir" Fox replied, "we're not even done unloading all of our equipment yet. Most of our men are still on landing or transport ships. Then once we've got everything and anyone on land we have to properly organize the brigades, units, divisions...."
"I know what we have to do, it doesn't make an ounce of difference. Do it efficiently and quickly. We head to northern Alabama as soon as we're organized."

"Sir, I've looked over the current situation. American forces seem weaker along Virginia and North Carolina. Perhaps we should break through there into Pennsylvania and...."
"I'm under orders from the Lord Protector to take my orders in regards to this conflict from the President of the Confederate States. I was ordered to head to Alabama, that's what I'm going to do."
"Yes, sir, of course. My apologizes."
"No harm, no foul. Just remember we're here fighting in their war, we do things their way."
"Of course sir."
"Good."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on May 19, 2007, 05:15:51 AM

"Swing right you sons of bitches!" Custer yelled over the wireless.
"Cut him off, and drive him so far back they'll be standing in the ocean!
I want our tanks to meat theirs as they're trying to get around us and kick them in the teeth."

"This is Colonel Kennedy. I need heavy artillery fire on the Confederate lines parallel to our right flank. Make them afraid to move in that direction."


Private Lionel Sanders, a gunner in one of Custer's A1-Abrams, hit a Confederate tank of the same model dead on. The rebel tank burst into flames.
"WOO HOO! Take that you treasonous sons of bitches!" he yelled. He thought of it all as a big video game. There weren't people with families and lives in that tank he just blasted, just mindless drones wearing enemy uniforms. Chances were the guys in the enemy tanks thought the same thing, so Lionel didn't feel bad about it.

Suddenly a rush of heat hit the left side of Lionel's body, like he was standing to close to a grill when it was turned on.
He looked through the small windows of the tank to see the Abrams to his left in flames. Apparently someone in grey and khaki was just as good a shot as he was.
Then he saw it, the Confederate flanking manoeuvrer.
"We're going straight for the curve boys" the driver of his tank yelled.
They headed for the point where the Confederate army made their turn to outflank Custer.
"KABOOM!" Lionel yelled as he obliterated a pack of advancing rebel infantrymen. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it, the barrel of a Confederate M-1.
In panic he tried to turn his gun in time, but before he could he felt the scorching heat of fire, and saw nothing but the white hot rage of the flame.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 22, 2007, 07:57:22 PM

 Ira Branham, driver of the M1 tank from which General Pershing had been giving orders, had been more than a little relieved when Pershing's common sense seemed to take hold, and he had finally closed the cupola of the tank before heading towards the front lines. Part of the reason was that he wasn't sure if the battle, hell, the war, could be won if Pershing met his maker here today, the rest of him just plain and simply didn't want to be blown to hell with the General.

 Inside the tank, muffled explosions could be heard all around, the ping of bullets deflecting off of the tanks sloped armour testified to the fact that even though the infantry knew damn well they didn't have a chance of taking out a tank with an assault rifle, they were still going to try every now and then. Pershing watched the monitors inside the tank as the Confederate left flank ran into the wall of yankee artillery, a frown was replaced by something closely resembling a smile though, as he seen his push against the right flank catch the enemy by surprise

 He switched the display to the tank's camera, which was supposed to deliver as good of a view of the battlefield as seeing it first hand. It left much to be desired.  "Goddammit, fucking high tech nonsense!" He bellowed at he flung open the cupola, withdrawing his 8mm side arm, taking shots at any infantry he could find. He took a moment, looking behind him, dramatically waving the tanks and infantry behind him forward.

"Come on you sons of bitches! The yankees aren't gonna die all by themselves!" He once again withdrew his binoculars, he peered up at his left flank, which was still crashing against the DS right flank. Pershing's own right flank showed what the monitor in the tank seemed to suggest. He seen a DS M1 explode as it's position was over run by advancing Confederate armour.

 He shook violently as his own tank fired off a round at a DS M1 which had been trying to conceal itself in a clumping of trees a quarter mile away. He smiled as it exploded into a firey ball, the rounds inside cooking off like so many popcorn kernels.

 He picked up the head set. "All units proceed, you boys on the left keep on keepin' em busy!" He turned around once again, waving those behind and around him forward.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 25, 2007, 06:41:22 PM

 Roger Devereaux's life revolved around four in the afternoon. At least, it had for the last month or so. It was now four thirty, and he was safely and soundly sitting at his usual corner stool at Jean Rene's Tavern. The rather boring name did a wonderful job of masking the establishment's outstanding food and a selection of booze that was second to none in the nation. It was here, in the smokey light and peanut shell covered floors that Roger had made his second home.

 It had been less than a month since he and his wife had seperated, too early for the memories and pain to be gone from love gone horribly awry, but much too long for a man to go on feeling as though he had failed in what he thought to have been the one thing in his life that was right. Loss and pain were by no means scarce commodities these days though, and should he forget it, he need but look at the television screen hanging from the corner.

 He spoke in the heavily accented Gaulasian-Inglish which was almost the norm in this part of Louisiana.

 "Jean Rene, you stupid twat! You going to give me my bourbon? Or am I going to sit here gathering dust all damned day!" The smirk on Roger's face giving away that the insult was more term of comradery than jab at the barkeep's manhood.

 Jean Rene, or JR as he was known usually, sat blankly staring at the television, he absently reached out to the left, grabbing the bottle of bourbon, and reached it back to Roger, who accepted it gratefully. He remained transfixed on the images flashing on screen, the only signs of life coming from him being the occasional shaking of his head, accompanied by random curses in Gaulasian. "God Allmighty." He swore,  "This whole country's gone to hell."

 Roger sighed. "Yeah, well, I still don't know why we couldn't have just stayed out of it, we're not on the border, and I for one could give a hoot in hell for what they do in Washington, or Montgomery, for that matter, my life is fucked up enough as it is."

 Jean Rene laughed more of mocking pity than of genuine amusement. "You self centered son of a bitch, you know Roger, I honestly believe you couldn't care if we were all being raped by mad goats, as long as there was enough bourbon to go around!"

 Roger didn't even really want to acknowlege the comment, so he didn't, he instead began watching the television as well. The scenes from out of Northern Alabama looked more like something from a movie than anything born of the worlds reality, no matter how cruel and violent that reality may seem at times. The scene of the battle was so shrouded in smoke, one could not completely ascertain the happenings, the only visual indications of battle being the constant flashes of the tanks' guns and pillars of flame shotting from the ground in seemingly random fashion.

 Both Roger and Jean Rene lit cigarettes as they now were both mesmerized by the carnage on screen. So much so, that they almost didn't notice the rumble in the distance until it was nearly upon them. A man in the corner, several days in want of a bath, leaped from his chair, his eyes wild and crazed with fear.

 "It's the yankees! The goddamn yankees are here! They'll flatten this city and there won't be a damned thing anyone can do about it!"

 "Elijah, calm the fuck down, will you, I'm sure it's just...." Roger was cut short as the rumble grew so intense that the bottles began shaking, an ashtray sliding off of the bar, shattering on the floor. The first Inglish tank rolled by, followed by two more, three more, so on and so forth, armored troop carriers, nearly every manner of military equipment rolling down the road Inglish soldiers riding on the sides, tops, and wherever else they could fit on the vehicles.

 "Who the fuck are they?" Asked Roger as he stood staring out the window.

 "Inglish, you really are out of touch, aren't you?" JR's tone light and distracted, also staring out the window.

 "What the hell are the limey's doing here?" Roger asked, it was no use though, even had JR been paying attention, the noise of the convoy now seemed to drown out all but the thoughts in Roger's head, and even those were being given stiff competition.

 The procession seemed to go on forever, finally, the last armored vehicle rolled by and the men stood there, the surrealism of the moment seeming to cast a spell of confusion over them. A moment of clarity broke through, though it was probably not accompanied by reason. Roger felt an icy ball of fear in his stomach.

 "I've got to call Daphne." He said to no one in particular.

 "Wha? Yeah, I'm sure she is just dying for you to call... but do what ya gotta do."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on May 26, 2007, 03:06:11 PM

Custer scanned the battlefield from his tank.
He was shooting grey/khaki camo-clad rebels every chance got with his side arm.

"Kennedy!" he yelled to Colonel over the wireless.
"We're drawing even in a battle we should be winning. Step up the artillery fire. I'm taking charge of this thing myself!"

Custer waited until it became clear to him that the artillery barrage was increasing. When he was confident it had he slammed the tank shut.
"All armoured vehicles of the 6th Armoured Brigade, this General Niel Custer. I'm taking us straight into the drunken, whiskey soaked mouth of the dragon that calls itself the Confederate States Army! We're going to hell and back!"

"Drive!" he yelled. Soon his M-1 was picking up momentum, heading straight for the clusterfuck that was the DS right flank, the entire 6th Armoured Brigade of the First DS Army in tow.

He hit with the strength of Thor's hammer. M-1s, be they DS or CS issued were flung aside as Custer used surveyed the chaos on his tank's monitors. Noting a few DS M-1s being held off by their Confederate counterparts he yelled over the wireless again.
"Come on you sonsofbitches! I refuse to believe a tank crew under my command can be out-fought by a bunch of rebel know-nothings! Get your asses in gear and break through!"
Suddenly Custer was almost flung forward as his tank's speed was severely reduced.
His face bright red in anger he yanked the monitor to the side, almost tearing it off its swivel.
"Damn it!" he yelled, spitting on the screen. The Confederates had sent tanks from the left to reinforce the right, which had pushed everything to a stalemate again. Worse of all, Custer had committed to many of his tanks to the right to launch a successful strike against the left.

"Send in more infantry and the few tanks we have uncommitted to the left. Keep 'em busy over there" Custer yelled, or tied to yell over his increasingly raspy throat, over the wireless.

An hour later

The situation could best be described as trench warfare with tanks. Both sides were deadlocked, both firing at just the right frequency as to keep the other side at a safe distance.
Custer was more pissed now then he had been when that tree-hugging pseudo-socialist Fremont was elected in the first place.
Here he was, the commander of the 1st DS Army, and some two-bit rebel army lead by a retired alcoholic general-turned talk show host was drawing even with him. The Confederates were doing better then "better then they expected."
"Better then they expected" would have been a fighting retreat for the Confederate army. They actually pulling even with one of the best trained and funded land forces in the world today.
Custer had long ago stopped yelling over the wireless, but only do to a horse voice. He glanced at his monitor again.
Pershing was nowhere to be seen, which meant he was still inside his tank.
"That's good" Custer thought to himself. At least he wasn't being shown up. In reality both men knew it was to dangerous to reveal themselves. If either died it would turn the tide of battle.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: St Oz on May 26, 2007, 05:48:01 PM

The AEGIS cruiser was silent in the day. It was a single AEGIS cruiser and bore the flag of St Oz, they were far enough from shore to not be seen by anyone though they were probably detected on sonar or radar. They didn't make any aggressive movements and glided on the sea at 20 Knots. The helicopter on board the AEGIS cruiser wasn't what anyone would call usual. The Helicopter wasn't even Ozian and didn't have a single weapon on it. The Helicopter was a transport helicopter with not even a side machine gun to defend itself with.

About 10 Ozians were on board the piece of Aircraft. The Pilots were only Half Ozian - Half Inglo-Scotian but they only needed the white skin. Their Maroon, Purple, and Navy Eyes were covered by sunglasses. The other 8 in the back were huddled and concealed, wearing their SOSOT uniform. The helicopter's propeller started to spin and the AEGIS cruiser slowed to 5 knots. They both detatched from each other as the Helicopter made way to make a maze to track it. The VH-60N Helicopter flew low, avoiding detection on radar.

On board the helicopter the pilot, Admivi Ali Peurouski was driving the helicopter like it was a commercial aircraft instead of making harsh turns like she usually did. The 8 in the back fell silent, huddled up with I-19s but one of them had an IA-7b for any Sniping duties that needed to be tended to. The Aircraft had the flag of the DSA on it's side an identification number that apparently STIA made a new log entry for the aircraft. Though not a total confirmation.

The Ozians entered airspace of Washington DC as Ali Peurouski ascended up. They awaited any calls for identification as she prepared her American Accent.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on May 26, 2007, 06:53:05 PM

The sounds and sites of war could be heard. If the smoke didn't clue you in the sounds sure did.
Theriot had taken a detour and swung into occupied Arkansas to route an unsuspecting Yankee contingent of troops.
Now he was back in Alabama, hoping that Pershing had been able to hang on long enough. By the sounds of things he had exceeded that hope.

Theriot peered through his binoculars, standing in his Challenger 2 tank.
"Looks like we're coming up on the Yanks' western front. Send the infantry in, standard formation" he ordered over the wireless.

The Inglo-Scotian infantry was divided into five-man groups, two gunners, two grenadiers, and one Corporal. 
The two gunners and two grenadiers wore standard black helmets, the Corporals wore black berets.
Hundreds of these formations marched forward, coming up on the DS Army's western flank.
Suddenly the advance stopped.
"Attack!" came over the wireless.

"Advance!" the Corporals yelled, as the formations, two grenadiers side by side, the corporal, and then two gunners side by side, advanced forward.

"Launch grenades!" the Corporals yelled.
The two grenadiers in each formation charged, throwing their bombs into the mist of the now split DS Army.
Almost as soon as they had thrown their grenades the grenadiers retreated to the back of their formations.
The Corporals, their sidearms ready to fire, charged forward with the gunners at their side.

By now the American forces had swung soldiers to cut off the advancing Inglo-Scotians. Their bullets started flying, slaying Inglo-Scotian soldiers as they ran.
"Do not break formation!" the corporals yelled as they army advanced.
"Now!" was the next order that came, as the gunners took position in front of the corporals, opening fire on the Americans.
The corporals were also firing their sidearms in the gaps of the gunner wall.

The Americans who were not stunned by the approaching Inglo-Scotians dug in to return fire. To many of these American men this was not what war was suppose to be like. When they imagined shooting at the enemy the enemy scattered in confusion. These guys though, they kept coming.

"Bombard!" the corporals yelled, they, along with gunners retreated and the grenadiers again rushed forward, launching grenades before falling behind a wall of gunners that resumed their advance.

One American tank managed to wrestle itself away from a shooting match with a Confederate barrel and turned its attention to the Inglo-Scotian wave of black.

"There sending in tanks sir!"
Captain-General Fox yelled, scanning the battlefield.
"Then get in yours!" the Field Marshal yelled in return before closing the hatch on his.
"Advance all armoured divisions!" Theriot ordered over the wireless.

The waves of Challenger 2 tanks rushed into battle just as the grenadiers in the infantry had launched an other grenade attack.
"Behind the tanks!" the Corporals yelled out, as the infantry retreated behind the first wave of advancing tanks.
"Fire first wave!" Theriot ordered.
The few DS tanks that were committed to the Inglo-Scotians were swept aside. The tanks engaged in the deadlock with the Confederate forces were blindsided.
A Yankee attempt to form a "L" formation to combat both enemy armies was smashed before it could reinforce itself.

As the Commonwealth's barrels thundered the remaining American tanks quickened from a slow to hurried and disorganized retreat.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on May 29, 2007, 01:06:21 PM

(http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h217/fearnloathing78x/map-SecondWarBetweentheStates.png)

 Pershing wondered how this fight could go on any longer. The bitch of it was that as badly as he wanted it won and over with, he almost couldn't believe how well they'd done so far, given that nothing up to this point had gone as planned. The Confederate counter attack had stalled out all around, left, right, and centre. The CS and their DS counterparts had been nearly stationary and lobbing shells at one another for nearly a day now. A war of attrition was not what he wanted.

 "We've got to break out, signal left flank and centre, We merge lines and make one final push, we've got to get through to their rear!"

 "Yes sir!" Came MacKenzie's reply over the radio.

 He had been told that Field Marshal Theriot was on his way by way of Louisiana, but no sign had as of yet been seen of him save for reports that the Inglish Army had somehow made it's way into south eastern Arkansas, running DS forces out of it, though he didn't know if those reports were factual, as most lines of communication were down in areas that the DS had over run, and the CSSD was still busy trying to gain control over at least some of the DSA's spy satelites, which were no doubt responsible for Custer catching Pershing's army unawares.

 Pershing's radio crackled to life. "Sir, we have reports from the left that the Inglo-Scotians are engaging the enemy."

 Pershing's stomach lept with jubilation, he exhaled deeply, then pragmatism kicked in. "Confirmation?"

 "Affirmitive, sir, I have visual."

 A smile which ran nearly ear to ear graced the tired General's face. "Well then, boys, what are we waiting for, All lines, push forward and attack!"

 The Confederate tanks lurched out of their entrenchments, finding the DS heavily engaged with the IS forces, the DS managing to stall the Inglish infantry advance momentarily, only to be broken and driven back as their armour was brought to bear full strength, driving them back into the eager sights of the Confederate tank gunners, who showed them no quarter. The centre of the DS line became weak as forces were diverted in futile attempt to stem the CS/IS onlaught on the left.

 "They're breaking boys! Time to fuck 'em up!" Pershing yelled to his command division as it began moving at break neck speed through the DS centre line, the Confederate tanks charging down anything in it's path bearing the DS Army insignia, until finally, Pershing's gunner called up to him.

 "Sir, no targets in sight, they're retreating! Shall we give chase?"

 "Negative, our lines are broken and disorganised, send the message to all units not to pursue. We'll regroup and move into Tennesse once we have done so."

 "Yes sir!"

 Now overwhelmed, outgunned, and out numbered, the DS Army began to leave Alabama as fast as their tanks and armored vehicles would allow, broken down vehicles were left on the side of the road, the crews hopping a ride on the next vehicle.

 Pershing popped open the cupola on his tank, surveying the landscape for the first time that day. Facing him was a Challenger 2 tank, bearing the red "V" which had become synonymous with Inglo-Scotia. The commander of the tank in turn raised his head up out of the tank, looking around briefly before his gaze came to rest on Pershing.

 The two men saluted.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on May 31, 2007, 11:42:31 PM

"FUCK!"
The broken monitor smashed against the side of the tank's wall, sparks flying.
Custer grabbed the wireless, he would have crushed it if he didn't need it at the moment.

"All units, General Niel Custer reporting, fall back to establish a new defencive position at Iron City, Tennessee, Iron City, Tennessee. That's all."

"I'll have that drunken pissant's head for this."

Quote from: St Oz on May 26, 2007, 05:48:01 PM

The AEGIS cruiser was silent in the day. It was a single AEGIS cruiser and bore the flag of St Oz, they were far enough from shore to not be seen by anyone though they were probably detected on sonar or radar. They didn't make any aggressive movements and glided on the sea at 20 Knots. The helicopter on board the AEGIS cruiser wasn't what anyone would call usual. The Helicopter wasn't even Ozian and didn't have a single weapon on it. The Helicopter was a transport helicopter with not even a side machine gun to defend itself with.

About 10 Ozians were on board the piece of Aircraft. The Pilots were only Half Ozian - Half Inglo-Scotian but they only needed the white skin. Their Maroon, Purple, and Navy Eyes were covered by sunglasses. The other 8 in the back were huddled and concealed, wearing their SOSOT uniform. The helicopter's propeller started to spin and the AEGIS cruiser slowed to 5 knots. They both detatched from each other as the Helicopter made way to make a maze to track it. The VH-60N Helicopter flew low, avoiding detection on radar.

On board the helicopter the pilot, Admivi Ali Peurouski was driving the helicopter like it was a commercial aircraft instead of making harsh turns like she usually did. The 8 in the back fell silent, huddled up with I-19s but one of them had an IA-7b for any Sniping duties that needed to be tended to. The Aircraft had the flag of the DSA on it's side an identification number that apparently STIA made a new log entry for the aircraft. Though not a total confirmation.

The Ozians entered airspace of Washington DC as Ali Peurouski ascended up. They awaited any calls for identification as she prepared her American Accent.

"Helicopter J-N038, this is Washington Capital Airspace Military Defence, please state your destination."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: St Oz on June 01, 2007, 12:32:34 AM

"We're heading for the Pentagon, We're delivering top secret information, It's contents and our motive confidential."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on June 02, 2007, 04:22:40 AM

Quote from: St Oz on June 01, 2007, 12:32:34 AM

"We're heading for the Pentagon, We're delivering top secret information, It's contents and our motive confidential."

"Hold on chopper J-N038"
the operator scans the flight records
"We have you on record J-N038. Please proceed to Pentagon Landing Pad A."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: St Oz on June 02, 2007, 04:43:02 AM

The Ozians on board the helicopter all smiled, STIA was such a wonderful Administration. The chopper landed on the pad, the Disguised pilots stepped out carrying a folder which two men came to grab from them. There wasn't any cameras on the roof top. The Ozian SOSOT members came out of the helicopter looking like a usual escort but if the two men noticed they had Iseltovs they might of been screwed. When the men stopped and grabbed the package the two Ozians pulled out blades and slashed at their necks, decapitating them instantly.

Then Admivi Ali whispered, "Tuliev Tuluiev.."

They carried the bodies and concealed them with their heads. They walked into the roof door which had a cement stairway leading down. With silencers on their I-19c. The two with their blades wiped the blood and fit it in their leather scabbards. They walked silently down the stairs and using a map tracked their way to the offices of General. 

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on June 03, 2007, 09:04:46 PM

Quote from: Sovereign Dixie on May 29, 2007, 01:06:21 PM

Pershing popped open the cupola on his tank, surveying the landscape for the first time that day. Facing him was a Challenger 2 tank, bearing the red "V" which had become synonymous with Inglo-Scotia. The commander of the tank in turn raised his head up out of the tank, looking around briefly before his gaze came to rest on Pershing.

 The two men saluted.

Field Marshall Theriot lowered his arm after a brief salute. Pushing himself through the tank's hatch.
After climbing down the Challenger's access ladder he dusted himself off, straightened his uniform out, and noticed the gruffer General Pershing had come down from his machine to great him.

Taking his right fist to his left should he gave the Confederate commander the Commonwealth salute.
"Field Marshal Andrew Theriot, pleasure to be of assistants.
Switching to a lighthearted tone he continued, "now what kind of trouble have you mates gotten yourselves into?"

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on June 03, 2007, 09:32:07 PM

Pershing's face was covered in dust save for around his eyes, whre he'd been holing binoculars for most of the battle. His grey and khaki helmet bearing the 5 stars of General of The Armed Forces. Even at Theriot's impressive height, Pershing still was taller at 6'7, he smiled at Theriot, took out a cigarette and lit it, offering one to Theriot as he said...

 "Well, we decided to have a little Victorious Revolution of our own." His smile widened.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on June 03, 2007, 11:13:53 PM

Theriot politely turning down the cigarette.
"So you have" he replied grinning.
"Well it's the pleasure of the Commonwealth Armed Forces to assist you. Your cause showed solidarity with us doing the Erie business, and the Lord Protector never forgets an act of friendship."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on June 03, 2007, 11:43:42 PM

 Pershing took a drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly. It was the first one he'd had in almost 12 hours, he was determined to enjoy it for all it was worth.

 "Nor shall we forget this. You can take that to the bank." Pershing looked around, taking in the scene around them. The still flaming ruin of a DS M1 tank lay not even 20 yards away.

 "Looks like we gave those yankee bastards one hell of a repair bill. Words got it though that ol' Custer doesn't know when to quit, and he's heading up to Tennessee to make another stand near Iron City. I've already called HQ for supplies and some reinforcements, they should be here sometime tommorrow morning. In the meantime, Field Marshal, I say our boys have earned themselves a party tonight, whaddya say?"

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on June 04, 2007, 12:17:01 AM

"I would say so General. All though I hope you've got a decent core of auxiliary troops to draw from. I'm afraid this is all I have on hand. The rest of our expeditionary force is locked up in naval power."
The Field Marshall grabbed his wireless.
"Captain-General Fox, come in."
"Yes sir?"
"Give our boys the night off. Set up a temporary camp arrangement."
"Yes sir."

"Sorry about that General, I like to get the formalities out of the way.
Could I interest you in a drink or two in my HQ, as soon as it's pitched of course."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on June 04, 2007, 12:38:04 AM

"Now you're talking my language!" Pershing said with a smile, withdrawing a silver flask from the pocket of his grey dustcoat. He turned around, yelling toward the tank from which he'd climbed out. "Marty!! Marty you son of a bitch, get out here!"

 MacKenzie's head popped out of the tank. 'Sir?"

 "Get on the comm and let the boys know to set up shop here for the night. There's beer in the supply trucks, after they set up camp, tell 'em to help themselves, as long as they share with our Inglo-Scotian friends here."

"Yes sir." MacKenzie saluted.

"The poor bastard, got his tank blown out from underneath him about an hour ago, he'd have more holes than a fucking sieve if I hadn't picked him up. All the better though, at least I didn't have to keep yelling orders to him over the comm. And to answer your question, Field Marshal, yes, I hear tell we have neigh on a hundred thousand  coming up, most are former national guardsmen, so they're not the best trained, but they'll work, I suspect."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on June 04, 2007, 01:51:03 AM

"Never underestimate one's sense of patriotism. When the buggers on the other side start firing, patriotism, the promise of a cause, even a basic instinct to survive, can more then compensate for a lack of training.
Two years of trench warfare across Liverpool taught me that."

-------------------------------------------------------------
Almost as soon as the announcement to set up camp was made the Inglo-Scotian troops shed the heavier aspects of their uniform, down to boots, simple black slacks, a black collared shirt, and a grey undershirt.

Private Alan Ritchie had grabbed a football (ooc: soccer ball) and had started up a game.
"We're blacks mates!" he yelled, tossing the ball to Niel Cunningham, the captain of the other team.
"Shed those issues boys, you're greys" he added.

"Take the flag's colours, we'll beat you down to worse then we beat those Yanks today!" Cunningham yelled back, as he and his team shed their black shirts, keeping their grey undershirts on.

Cunningham dropped the ball, passing it up to a private who was playing striker, only to have it intercepted by Ritchie, who blasted it into the make-shift goal.
"WOOOO!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.
"You'll see me in New BU's green and blue once this war is over!" he yelled out.
"Pfft" Cunningham scuffed, turning to see three Confederate soldiers, watching the proceedings in what looked to be a mixture of confusion and curiosity.
"What's up mates?" Cunningham asked.
"Never seen a game of footy before?"

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on June 04, 2007, 02:28:07 AM

 Pershing reflected on the Field Marshal's words for a moment before nodding. "Yes, I suppose you have something there." He took his helmet off, running a hand through scraggily hair in dire need of washing. He took a drink from the flask, and sighed. "You and I have seen alot, hell, one look at either one of us old bastards and a body can tell that much. But these boys, heh..." He took another sip, passing the bottle over to Theriot. "Have a snort if you want, it's Kentucky's finest whiskey. But yeah, these boys, hell, half of 'em never even had a blow job probably. And in the morning, we're going to be heading out. We're going to march the living shit out of them, And when we finally catch up with Custer, he's gonna be dug in. Yes sir, dug in really good. then our comm links will light up like goddamn christmas trees, orders pouring in, 'Attack! Attack!'."

 Pershing took a drag from a cigarette, his eyes seemed to trail off into the distance as he went on. "And these boys, these kids, who two weeks ago, were worrying about how to beat a video game, get into college, hell, if they're like me, worrying about how in the hell they're going to get laid." He laughed softly. "And those orders will be sent up, and our boys are going to charge up, and in the end, I know that pansy ass son of a bitch Custer is going to regret the day his daddy dicked his momma, but the thought of how many of those poor boys are gonna have to die first.... is something that I hope I myself have seldom and spare occasion to contemplate.'

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

 The three Confederate soldiers had been eyeing the IS troops for a few moments, actually. When asked if they knew about "footy" They truthfully hadn't the slightest clue as to what to say in response. Private Justin Tilton was the first to break the silence, answering with somewhat of an embarassed grin.

 "Well, um, yeah, I've seen it a few times, I reckon, just never for more than a few minutes and always on TV. Never found much in it, to be honest, but, as my daddy used to say, there's a first time for everything."

 Private First Class Dennis Lane was the next to chime in. "Yeah, ain't a ball made yet I can't kick the shit out of."

 Hearing the young private's arrogance, Corporal Richard Rousseau, challenged him in a noticable cajun accent. 'And exactly how many balls might you have kicked private?

 PFC Lane laughed, "Well, counting that son of a bitch in Atlanta, two."

 The Inglo Scotian soldier laughed, and kicked the ball towards Lane, who kicked at it resolutely, and straightaway thereafter, fell resolutely on his posterior.....

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on June 04, 2007, 02:57:26 AM

"I have to say, back across the pound your alcohol is the butt of a lot of jokes, but this whiskey is pretty damn good. We'll have to get some Beaconsfield Gin in you sooner or later" Theriot remarked.
"But..." he went on, "you've hit the nail right on the bloody head. Most of these boys have no idea what's what. I've served in both Imperial khaki and Commonwealth black. I've seen things that would make half of my men beg to go home if I told 'em. The Revolution was brutal though. Trench warfare, right across the bloody country!
Imagine, your next objective being a community Rec Centre, or your front line going right through a poor bloke's lawn. Brutal, bloody business.
Then the government romanticizes the whole thing, and you have kids wantin' to serve the Commonwealth and Parliament just like their fathers and older brothers."
Theriot took an other sip of whiskey.
"Some of 'em will die, true enough. I delivered my fair share of eulogies after the Revolution, and I'll do the same after this outing. The best thing to do is to just believe in your cause. Then you know that their lives weren't cut short in vain."

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

Cunningham couldn't help but laugh.
"Sorry mate, no hard feelings" he said, helping Private Lane up.

"So what do you blokes play here in the colonies?" Private Ritchie asked.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on June 04, 2007, 03:17:23 AM

Pershing nodded. "That's what it comes down to, in the end, isn't it? The price of freedom. Here's hoping we don't spend over our limit."

Lightening the mood, Pershing asked, "So what's all this I hear about y'all having tea makers in your tanks?"

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

 Lane laughed as Cunningham helped him up.

 "No worries, hell, I shoulda seen that comin' a mile away."

 Tilton had laughed so hard tears had begun to run from his eyes.

 "Well, a few of us probably do play what you call football, we call it soccer. But it's no where near as popular here, hell, I hadn't even heard of it until a couple of years ago. We also have a sport called football, but you'd probably think of it as being closer to rugby. I used to be a quarterback in high school, 'till I fucked up my elbow. And the poor corporal over here, all he can play is a fiddle, but he does it damn fine."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on June 04, 2007, 03:41:05 AM

Theriot chuckled.
"Kings become Emperors, Emperors fall, Commonwealths are declared, nobles are executed, society is turned upside down, but the one constant is that we take our tea very seriously. An Inglo-Scotian who scoffs out on afternoon tea might as well salute the stars and stripes and call himself a Yankee.
All though I can see you wouldn't need any use for it here. But try spending a rainy Manchester or Liverpool summer without a daily cup of Earl Grey to sooth the soul. You'll go 6's & 7's before July rolls around."
Pershing shot him a confused look.
"My mistake chap. 6's & 7's, that's when they have to haul you off to the loony bin."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Yes, we've seen your football, interesting game, but if you ask me you have your names mixed up" Private George Alexander remarked.
"I mean with football football you actually use your feet."
"Eh, enough of the sports" Cunningham said.
"If we're marching after the Demies tomorrow I don't need a broken ankle because Ritchie here can't do a proper slide tackle."
"Fuck off twit" Richie shouted back.
"My grandpa could beat you at a game of Golden Goal and the man's practically sharing a bed with King Death these days."
"Any rate" Cunningham went on, ignoring his comrade's boastfulness, "football should probably be saved for when we win, or at least when we have Uncle Sam on the ropes. Until then, would you southern gents care for a round of Durham's finest ale?" 

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on June 04, 2007, 04:16:21 AM

Pershing, by now feeling the whiskey, laughed. "Hell, my six shoulda been sevened a long time ago then. For that matter, I dont think any of us would be here, if we were all there." He looked at his watch, "Fuck, time flies when you're celebrating. Tomorrow, we march on Iron City, Way I figure it, we call in what air support we can, try an' soften 'em up a bit, then I'll move around to the left, coming in from the north, hopefully, we can catch the son of a bitch with his knickers down. You move in however you see fit, I'm usually the type to almost micromanage things like this, but in this case, I trust your judgement implicitly."

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

 Rousseau nodded, "Yeah, to be honest, I never knew why we called it football either, but hell, we didn't name it, we just play it."

 Private Lane however, eager to forget his damaged pride and derrier, was quick to announce the groups acceptance of the Inglish beer offering.

 "Sounds damn good to me. In fact, we'll meet your ale and raise you a couple kegs of our own!"

 The ale flowed freely, later on Rousseau taking out a fiddle (OOC:violin, for those no familiar with the term) and played until his arms felt like rubber. The men drank to freedom, the men drank to brotherhood, to the Commonwealth and the Confederacy, and the men drank until they vomited. The yankee army was only a few miles across the Tennessee border, but as far as Pershing and Theriot's armies were concerned, Custer may as well have been halfway to Daedalus.

 "I think

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on June 07, 2007, 11:46:06 PM

The four "southwestern" states had all willingly joined the Confederacy's first stab at freedom back in 1861. These days, things weren't so clear cut.
The DSA had occupied Nevada at the start of the war, it's National Guard "federalized" under the command of the DS President.
Jim Reid, the Nevada governor, as well as the state's two senators and three congressmen had fled to Mobile following his state's occupation, and had every intention of declaring the state for the Confederacy like the governors of occupied Virginia, Kentucky, Missouri, Kansas, Arkansas, Tennessee, and North Carolina had done. The only thing that stopped him, and the governor of un-occupied Arizona Dennis Kyle from officially throwing their support behind the CSSD was the reluctance of the governors of Baja and Mexico, Antonio Núñez and Ernesto Calderón respectively. During the 1861 war white men had dominated the governments of those two states, and they eagerly went the south's way.
Now though, both states had Latino governors. Even though Latinos were treated better then blacks back in the 1861 Confederacy it seemed like the Latinos were opposing this new CSSD more then the blacks were.

So was the state of affairs when the governors of these four states met in secret in Los Angeles, the state capital of Baja. Núñez and Calderón were willing to let the pro-Confederacy governors of Arizona and Nevada attempt to convince them that joining the CSSD was in the best interest of the American Latino population. Considering the geography and demographics of the four states, they all were more or less bound to each other in terms of allegiance. If just one decided to stay in the DSA the other three were more or less bound to that decision.

Antonio Núñez sat at the head of the table. Even if this meeting was being held in secret, proper protocol was still followed, and the governor of the host state sat at the head of the table.
Núñez looked like your typical male lead in a Latin American soap opera. His teeth were white beyond the point nature intended them to be and his jet black hair was slicked back with so much gel it was in danger of forming a single helmet-like head peace.
To his right sat Ernesto Calderón. Calderón seemed as different from Núñez as was possible while still staying Latin. He was in his early sixties, and his face showed a lifetime of living in the desert. His hair was also almost all gone with the exception of a few grey hairs here and there.
Across from Calderón, to Núñez's left, was Dennis Kyl from Arizona. Kyle didn't look the part of a southwestern governor. He always wore a three-piece suite, despite the heat, and lacked any defining rugged features. He wasn't big by any means, fat or muscular. He was a tall, lengthy fellow, standing 6'5". He was probably the last person anyone would have figured to be a Confederate supporter. He was the intellectual type, and if you listened to the Progressive Party in the DS intellectuals didn't support the Confederate movement. Yet there he was, a Princeton educated Arizonan who would have joined the Progressive Party had Fremont not annoyed the living piss out of him, and he wanted to throw his state's lot in with the Confederacy.
Opposite Antonio Núñez, at the other end of the table, was James "Jim" Reid, the governor of the occupied state of Nevada. He was the only governor in exile in Mobile who hadn't officially declared his state's support for the Confederacy. He was hoping he could go back after all of this and tell the boys in the Confederate Congress he had remedied that situation.
Jim Reid looked like he could have been a Texan. He was a burly man, who given the choice would wear a vest over a sports jacket. He also wore a white cowboy hat everywhere he went. That hat was either washed every night or he had a closet full of them, because the thing never looked dirty.

"We understand the desire of both of your states to join the Confederate States of Dixie" Núñez began.
"You two wish to follow the leads your states took during the first war between the states. I also understands that..."
"If you understand then just secede and we can all move on with our business!" Reid remarked.

"Jim, lets do this right" Kyl said, hoping the Nevadian wouldn't scare off the governors of Baja and Mexico.
"We understand that you have some reservations when it comes to joining the CSSD. It's our hope we can persuade you your fears are unfounded."

"The Confederacy, it doesn't have the best history in inter-racial matters" Calderón piped in.
"For fuck's sake" Reid burst out, "we treated you guys pretty good during the last war didn't we?"

"For the love of all that's Holy Jim, please don't do that again" Kyl interjected.
Reid wanted to curse out Kyle right there, but he realized he needed the Arizonan's tact to pull this off.

"I understand your concerns gentleman" Kyl continued.
"But lets all be honest with each other. Since Consul Anderson appeared on FXX and the subsequent support of the Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia the black population in the southern states has shifted in favour of the Confederacy. If any sect of the population was justified in a suspicion of the CSSD it's the blacks. If they're willing to support it this time around all you fears should be relieved. In fact I head that LP Crofts back in Inglo-Scotia has promised support only if an Equal Rights amendment is added to the CSSD constitution."

"You want an even better reason to join the Confederacy?" Reid asked.
"Please Jim" Kyl protested.

"No, everyone here needs to listen up" Reid barked.
"Look," he continued, focusing on Calderón and Núñez, "you folk, you're a family orientated bunch, right?"

"Yes..." Núñez answered.
"The family is a very important part of Latino culture."

"There you go!" Reid went on.
"Look, you can stay in Fremont's DSA and let the Progressive Party push abortion on your daughters, let them force gay marriage down your throats that undermine your sense of family, and let a government appointed bureaucrat tell you how you can raise you child.
Hell, you might as well throw away any sense you people have of racial identity and autonomy. Fremont and the Progressive Party blab about racial distinction bein' a bad thing. You want to go that way, fine, but you can just kiss everything that's unique about your culture away, because that's the Progressive aim. Make everyone the same, remove the colour that makes all of our cultures unique.
You don't believe me? They're already doin' it to the whites. You think they'll stop with us? No, we're just first on the chopping block because we're the majority.
Hell, they're already tryin' to tell the blacks which of their music is and isn't ok to listen to. Now mind you I can't stand rap, but I'm not black. Let 'em listen to whatever the Hell they want, that's what I say. And that's the Confederate way, damn it.
You'll be next, no question about it.
One by one the aspects that make your culture your own will get labelled 'not politically correct.'
That's if you stay in the DSA.
Join the CSD, a country that's bein' built by people of strong family values, and run by people who say the government has no business tellin' you how you define yourself, so long as your a Confederate first and foremost." 
Reid took his seat and took a huge breath, his face red and his eyes still as large as saucers.

Núñez leaned into Calderón, and the two spoke softly in Spanish. Both Kyl and Reid picked out the terms "Los Estados confederados" and "Los Estados democráticos."

Núñez looked up again.
"It is our consensus that the CSD will provide the best option for our states" he announced.

A huge grin appeared on the face of Jim Reid.
"Glad to hear it, I think ya'll find it to your liking. I'll declare Nevada for the Confederacy as soon as I get back to Mobile. I take it you'll fallow afterwards Dennis."

"You've got it Jim" Kyl responded.

"We will declare ourselves afterwards" Calderón assured him.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
24 hours latter
The FXX camera were on in the back of the makeshift senate chamber in Mobile.
Governor James Reid stood before the crowd, which represented a joint meeting of both chambers. He was flanked by the two senators of Nevada to his right and the three congressmen to his left.
"Now I know ya'll have been waiting for me to make this announcement" he began,
"but there were a few issues that needed to be straightened out. Well that's all water under the bridge. I officially declare the State of Nevada its own sovereign and independent state, joined with likewise sovereign states in the Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie."

Stephen Regan, the Confederate Secretary of Education, was the cabinet member who was delegated to stay out of the joint session in the event a disaster befell the session. He nodded with approval as he watched Reid swing Nevada into the Confederate camp, even if it was currently occupied.
Minutes later a secret service guard handed him a file.
"What's this?" he asked.
"The reaction to governor Reid's speech sir" the guard informed him.
"Mexico declared before Arizona did? I have to say I'm surprised. I thought they might hang us out to dry."
"And Baja declared just moments ago sir. We officially have a Pacific coast."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on June 08, 2007, 01:07:17 AM

 President Anderson had called for airtime to address the nation one hour after the 4 remaining states announced their secession. This would have an appreciable effect on the remainder of the war, and he didn't want it's significance to be understated. FXX had already began the lead in, during the time slot which was now occupied by Frasier Pershing's successor, John Morbo.

 The kind of man you could only find in Texas, John Morbo was a huge mountain of bellowing flesh, his slick hairless head showcasing a fore head that seemed to only make for a thicker skull, not extra cranial capacity. For twenty minutes proceeding the president's speech, Morbo thundered on about the impending doom of the "American Empire" His face bright red, he vented his anger for the world to hear.

"The southwestern states have seen the way! Doom awaits the pathetic Yankees!!! Doom and destruction! Fremont and his pathetic union shall taste the sword of justice! Freedom shall never bow to the pathetic likes of him and his pathetic so called progressive sycophants!"
 
 Morbo had been about to call the DSA "pathetic" for the thirty ninth time in that twenty minute broadcast when he was advised that Anderson was about to make his speech.

 "Ladies and Gentlemen, today, this fledgling enterprise called the Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie took in four new partners in our cause for liberty. Arizona, Nevada, Mexico, and Baja have secceeded from the DSA, and together, our nation shall overcome all obsticles in it's path.

 In Alabama, the DS army has been routed, thanks to the combined efforts of the Confederate and Inglo Scotian armies, and are now poised for the liberation of Tennessee. From Tennesee, onward, as we shall not rest until our nation is free from the feet of foreign invaders. Together, we shall prevail, and move forward towards peace.

 Good night, and God Bless the Confederacy."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on June 10, 2007, 12:20:06 AM

The march north to Tennessee was a hot, muggy one. The armies of Theriot and Pershing had separated by this point. Pershing had started his move left to take Custer in the north. Theriot, for the moment at least, kept his army on a head-on course with Custer.

Privates Alan Ritchie and Niel Cunningham marched more longer then they had ever planned on marching their entire lives. The humid climate in northern Alabama didn't help matters.
"Those Confederate chaps seemed all right" Cunningham remarked.
"I suppose so" Ritchie replied, "but we should be sending them some real beer instead of troops. I can't get the taste of that piss water out of my mouth."
"Eh, it's different I guess. Open your mind Alan" Cunningham said, trudging along.
"Tell you what, when we head back home after all of this, take some of that 'beer' with you, see what the folks at home think. Ten to one, they say it's pure shyte."
"And they probably thing the same about our stuff" Cunningham said.
"Maybe" Ritchie replied, "once we kick the Yanks out of Tennessee we'll probably be to happy to care" he continued.

At that they looked up to see Confederate fighters, with hastily painted battle flags on the wings and fuselage.
"I guess Johnny Reb's planning on softening the Yanks up" Cunningham said, referring to the character of Johnny Reb, a DS cartoon meant to mock the Confederates, only to be turned around as a brave a heroic figure by the Commonwealth's propaganda labs. 
"I doubt we'll need it, I mean we showed up and drive them out of Alabama easy enough" Ritchie remarked.
"Only because the Confederates softened them up first" Cunningham commented.
"Maybe, maybe we're just that much better then both groups here in the colonies" Ritchie boasted confidently.

"Well you go ahead and think that Alan, I'll tell your mum you died bravely and all of that. Thinking like that can get you killed."
"And who the fuck are you, some seasoned vet?"
"No, but I'm smart enough to see that war has to be more then what we all think it is. We're lucky, we didn't get hit with that many casualties. Did you see some of those Confederate boys, half their limbs blown off? I don't want to end up like that, so I won't be giving the Yanks the benefit of the doubt."
"Well thanks for thoroughly running my day" Ritchie replied.
"Think of it this way, after the shooting tomorrow today will seem like a walk in the garden."
"One unpleasant garden" Ritchie scowled, slapping a mosquito away from his face.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on June 10, 2007, 12:55:33 AM

Iron City was as far south as you get and still be in DSA-occupied territory, sitting just on the Tennessee side of the Tennessee/Alabama border. The town wouldn't even have been on anyone's mind if a war hadn't broken out. All 368 residents worked at the iron works, and even then the management types didn't live that much different compared the general population.
In fact it's position as one of the southernmost towns in DSA-controlled Tennessee was the only reason Custer had chosen it as his fall-back point.
A bed-and-breakfast, probably used mainly by the Steel tycoons when on inspection, had been commissioned by the First DS Army.

Custer sat back in his chair, downing a bottle of tonic water. Alcohol was for celebrating as far as he was concerned.
The door opened, and Colonel Adam Kennedy entered.
"Everything's in order general, we have a pretty nice trench system dug up."
"Artillery, air defence?" Custer asked.
"All taken care of. We have StA missiles all lined up, and we have fighters coming in from Ohio to give the hound-dogs a hell of a fight."
"Hound-dogs?" Custer asked, as if Kennedy were speaking Ozian.
"That's an informal name the Rebs have given their jets" Kennedy explained.
"Look here" Custer snapped, going from tired and docile to genuinely pissed off, "I don't want to hear anyone, much less me second in command, start talking like a damn Confederate!"
"My mistake sir, it's been a long day."
"Damn straight" Custer replied.
Kennedy wasn't sure if he was agreeing with calling CSD fighters hound-dogs his mistake, or if he was agreeing it was a long day. Probably both.

"Take a seat Adam" he said, motioning toward the bed in the far end of the room.
Kennedy through off his green-grey officers jacket, taking his general's offer at rest.
"Adam..." Custer went on, "I love this country, you know that, right?"
"Yes sir" Kennedy went on, recalling Custer's war record, including a distinguished stint fighting the Myrorians in the brief Merchantalist States civil war, where both Myrorians and Americans had waged a mini undeclared war.

"You see Adam, I can't stand to see a bunch of radical vipers in Mobile rip this country in two. I may not like that bleeding heart we have in Washington, but damn it, at least he's doing what he has to do to keep this country together. Mind you a Federal could do a damn better job" he chuckled.
So did Kennedy. Adam Kennedy, heck the entire Kennedy family of Massachusetts were staunch Federalist Party supporters. In fact his uncle, Fredrick Kennedy, could very well have been president instead of Fremont if a crazed communist hadn't gunned him down in Denver during the Federalist Party primaries. Instead Archibold Donovan, the least exciting man alive, got the Fed nomination, and Fremont's passionate public speaking abilities disposed of him with relative ease.

"Anyway, get some sleep Colonel" Custer said, I'm going to take a tour of the defences, don't let me wake you when I get back."
"Yes sir" Kennedy responded, drifting into sleep as soon as the General had made it clear he wasn't needed for the night.
Custer buttoned up his green-grey officers jacket, and straightened out his like-coloured cap, the bronze eagle and crossed sabres reflecting brightly, even in the room's dull light. After quickly straightening his blond moustache he clicked the lights off and made his way down to the city's defences.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on June 13, 2007, 03:23:14 AM

Six squadrons of Confederate F-18's flew in low and fast, Each loaded for bare, smart bombs, air to air missiles, and orders to leave nothing of Custer's forces alive.

 Lt. Commander Blaine Gillmore loved this part of any bombing run, he loved it even more now, because now, it meant something. Now it made a difference, *here* in his own country.  As he led in the attack wings, he flicked the switch, broadcasting the song which had become the 56th Air Wing's tradition.

1, 2, 3, 4!!!

I'm a hand up mona lisa's dress
I'm a smile on every criminal you'll ever acquit,
I'm the things you've done you'd never admit
Cause one hand is on the bible and the other's in shit.

But right now, your faceless in the crowd
I'm shouting out loud
The one you counted out of the game
Oh wow!
Take a good look at me now
Should have never had a doubt
Is that you I hear screamin' my name?

 Iron City drew closer, Gillmore and the others armed their weapons. they began their descent upon the obviously surprised Yankees. With one of their barracks in sight, he gave the order.

 "Time to kick some ass, boys, fire at will"

 The adrenaline rush was second to nothing he had ever experienced. He depressed the fire button as the song entered into the chorus and second verse....

I'm a roller
I'm a rider
I'm number one motherfucking survivor

So move over
I'm a driver
And I'm high and i'm keep gettin higher

Yeah yeah yeah!
Yeah yeah yeah!

I'm the one you thought that you could erase
But a predator that's faster than the food that it chased,
You fall off the horse you brought to the race
I'll be the one who's flyin' by ya kickin' shit in your face.

 The bombs hit their targets, plumes of fire shot up from the ground as tanks, buildings, and entrenchments went up in smoke.

 Pulling out of their run, he heard the ominous tone coming in over the song, telling him that the DSA was very much about, and not happy with their actions.

 "Shit! We got inbound!"

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

 The three former Ohio Class SSBN's had slipped undetected to their launching point, the DSN occupied with just having lost 4 carriers off New Cambrington. The remained undetected as they surfaced to launch depth. Now, one hundred and fifty miles south east of the DSA capitol city of Washington, the three Confederate subs each began launching their 24 long range cruise missiles at the capital.

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 Pershing's army had made its way north west, and was now doubling back south east, towards the northern vanguard of Custer's army. Privates Lane and Tilton had been riding for what seemed like forever on top of the Confederate M1 MBT They had disscussed the meeting with the Inglish at length, and had come to the conclusion that while the Inglish themselves were good boys to have around, their beer reminded them more of motor oil, than of anything intended for human consumption.

 "I swear, I felt like I had a brick o' lead in my gut for neigh on the rest of the night, I dunno how they drink that stuff." Lane had said, trying not to notice the bumpy ride of the tank.

Tilton laughed, "Well, reckon ya just have to be use to it. It sure does fuck ya up quick though, I was about holdin' on to the grass to stay on the planet. Coulda' swore I was gonna be flung right the fuck off."

 After a long pause, Lane finaly asked, "Say, where the hell we goin', anyways?"

 Corporal Rousseau, who up until this point had remained silent, finally spoke up. "We're heading to Iron City, Yanks 'ave dug in, and we're gonna get 'em out."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on June 14, 2007, 03:13:19 AM

Air raid sirens echoed through the empty streets of Washington. Many had fled to the subway system, even if the marshlands the capitol was built on were in danger of caving in on the tubes, should the missiles hit in the right place. Most held out in basements and bomb shelters, leftover from the Cold War with St. Oz. The town was dead. Play grounds were empty, and the few cars left on the streets were left abandoned as soon as the sirens had started up.

Elliot Fremont, the President of the Democratic States of America, sat at his desk in the makeshift Oval Office in the White House's bomb shelter.
"Mr. President" Paul Rae, his chief of staff began, "we have to think about moving the seat of government. We can't continue to stay in Washington, we're right on the border. This is only the beginning."
A deafening explosion rocked the Presidential Staff.

"Abandon the capital? Leave the state of Columbia open to Rebel armies? Never. I won't let Anderson think I'm ready to run away from his drunk lapdog.

"Sir, both Philadelphia and Boston played important roles in the American Revolution. We could set up shop in either of those cities, and play the patriotic nostalgia card. Just until this war is over, Mr. President. We can't stay here."

"Paul..." Fremont began, before being cut off by an other loud explosion, "if we stay here the army will have more of an incentive to keep Pershing out of Washington, and more importantly out of Columbia. Also, I need to show the world this administration is not afraid. We won't abandon this city, not as long as I'm President."

"Sir" Rae protested, "how are we going to effectively run a war and run a country in this state. Jesus sir, Ozian troops already blew a hole in the Pentagon, and now we're in range of Confederate bombers and missiles."

"We'll find a way" Fremont responded, his face seemingly different, as if the confidence had been shaken out of him from the latest explosion.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Engage opposition" Squadron Leader James Heller ordered over the wireless.

"Ready Tony?" Captain Hannibal Kaine asked, looking to his right at his wingman Cpt. Anthony Pamario.
"Ready as I'll ever be bro."
"Let's kick some Rebel ass then!" Kaine yelled enthusiastically.


The two swarms of F-18s struck each other, breaking up the perfect formations, turning order into chaos.

"Tony! Where are ya?" Hannibal yelled through his wireless.
"Not sure H-man, it's like fighting yourself out here!"
The F-18s blended together. This wasn't like fighting a foreign enemy. These were pilots who knew what you knew, trained the same way you did. They flew the same plane, the only exception being that the DS eagle and crossed sabres was hastily painted over in favour of the Confederate battle flag.

Unless he saw that diagonal red cross he hesitated to pull the trigger. The only assurance he had was that the Rebs were having just as hard a time as he was.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
First the Confederate bombs fell, striking at Iron City's defences.
The bombs were still falling, but fighters from Ohio had shown up to keep them busy.
Custer, Kennedy, and their staff had commandeered the only bomb shelter in town, using it as a make-shift war room.
Custer was bent over the table, looking at the map of the city and his defences. His blond hair, not long by any means, but not short either, slightly draped over his face as he eyed the map, seemingly playing out the battle and every possible situation in his mind.

"Are you sure about that?....alright, I'll let the General know. Over and out."
"Sir," Colonel Kennedy continued, "we have first sight of the enemy. There Challengers sir, not M-1s."

"Inglo-Scotians" Custer said half to himself.
"They think they can show up out of the blue and drive the pride of the DS Army out of its own territory? I'll give that Limy Theriot a taste of American know-how. He wants to kick the Democrat States of America in the teeth? I'll drive him back into the Atlantic!"

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on June 17, 2007, 02:29:53 AM

 The F-18 pilots had nothing short of hell erupting all around them. With most of their fuel expended, and the IFF issues (Identification Friend or Foe) there was but one option. Pull out while they could.

 A DS fighter exploded in a ball of flame, the shrapnel lacerating the fuel tank of its CS counterpart, the Confederate jet tumbled into the ground, the pilot managing to aim his craft at the base works in Iron City to make his death as costly as possible to the enemy.

 "Pull out! Get the fuck outta here!" Gillmore ordered, unlike the DSA, the Confederacy had a finite supply of aircraft, with recent war production going mostly into equpment for the ground forces. The CSSD fighters did as best they could to reorganise, and head south, back to base.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Anderson arrived back in Mobile from the Pax Imperium conference, though there were some hangups, all in all, the first diplomatic endevour of the CSSD had gone over in a stellar fashion. The CSSD was now allied formally with many of the worlds premiere military and economic powers. Though he had no plans on asking for Pax Imperium intervention, the leverage was still good to have.Upon his arrival, a stack of messages awaited him. Going through the most urgent, he summoned now Vice President Michael Chamberlain, and Chamberlain's replacement as Sec of State, Paul Winger, into his office.

 "It's taken a while," Anderson began,"but we've finally got a leg up on the competition. Custer's dug in and fighting for his life, the yankee navy's reeling, Columbia is in flames, and we're allied with major world powers. Now is the time to hit, and hit hard, we can not afford a protracted war, not if we want to win this thing. Frasier's about to hit them with all we've got on the ground, Theriot is, from what I understand, about to engage the enemy as well, with any luck, this will be a knock out blow the yanks won't recover from. What word out of Columbia? Is Fremont still there? Hell, is he still alive?"

 "Yes on both counts," Chamberlain answered."he refuses to move, though the attack was spectacular in its success in terms of accuracy."

 'Hit 'em again" Demanded Anderson.

"With all due respect, Mr. President,"Winger cut in."We dont have the resources to mount a sustained bombing campaign against Columbia, or anywhere in the DSA, for that matter. Their fighters still make any air operations risky at best. We just do not have enough fighters to do the job, sir."

 Anderson looked angry, but while he didn't like what he was hearing, he knew it to be true, that didn't mean there wasn't another way to skin this cat, however.

 "Then do it by sea, We have the Enterprise and the Endevour, ready to go, and the Reciprocity is just out of the naval yards, three carriers, their navy is crippled, we can do this, I want Columbia turned into a parking lot, and I want Fremont's head ground up and put in a hot pocket!"

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 Pershing hated the summer, the heat was stiffling, though the extreme southern position of the CSSD provided for more moderate temperatures than one would otherwise expect, the Lake of Mexico threw in it's ungodly humidity, making the heat, as it was, unbearably humid.

 "Sir, we have a report from Field Marshall Theriot, he is engaging the enemy."

 Pershing nodded, "Good, tell the men, we dont stop to camp, we head in and attack, I want the artillery to begin hitting as soon as we're within range."

"Yes sir."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on June 17, 2007, 03:44:41 AM

Alan Ritchie and Niel Cunningham both looked ahead. The grenadier/gunner formations had begun to engage to Yankee forces.
The tanks and infantry sat back, as the artillery aided the advancing columns.

"You ready?" Ritchie asked, gulping.
"As much as I'll ever be" Cunningham responded.
Anyway you cut it, the Confederates softened the Yanks up in Alabama. The fighting on the Commonwealth side was a cake walk, as far as war goes anyway.
Now they would hitting a reinforced American army head on.

Suddenly a streaking F-18, it was hard to tell if it was a friend or foe, crashed into one of the DS artillery formations.
"Fucking shyte" Cunningham said, his body temporarily paralysed in fear.

"They're falling back!" their company's sergeant yelled, "move in!"
Cunningham, managing to find the wherewithal to move forward, followed his friend into battle, as infantry and the first round of Challenger 2s came in behind them.
A bullet flew within centimetres of Ritchie's head, almost throwing his balance off, yet he kept moving forward.
The barded wire and concrete barracks of the Yanks' front lines were visible.

Then it all turned to hell, as if all order and resorted to chaos. Almost as soon as they entered the limits of Iron City proper the artillery fell harder, the guns were closer, you could see the face of the enemy.
The Yanks had only fallen back 300 meters into the city, forcing the I-S infantry to separate among the buildings and roads of the town.
An artillery shell landed just 20 meters from Niel Cunningham, throwing his body into an abandoned car.

As quickly as he could he pulled himself up.
"Ritchie!" he yelled, looking for his friend.
"Alan, where are you!"
Still no answer.

Just then the bullets started flying again.
Dropping to his belly he crawled over to a turned over car. Propping himself up, he looked over in the direction of the DS lines. He was able to make out green-grey clad figures trying to advance.
He began firing his Galil into the advancing green-grey soldiers. The smoke was such that a kill couldn't be confirmed. Still, he just kept on firing.
Then he saw it, a DS M-1.
"Shit!" a soldier to his left yelled, dropping his rifle and fleeing, only to be shot. Only the bullet that finished him off wasn't fired from an American gun, but that of his sergeant.
"There will be no retreat!" the sergeant yelled, turning his weapon on the DS lines.

Suddenly the DS tank exploded, as an I-S anti-tank vehicle emerged from the smoke behind Cunningham.
The sergeant and a few soldiers ran in Cunningham's direction.
"Their flank is weakening, we charge now!" the sergeant yelled, patting Niel on the back, before rushing into the smoke himself.
Cunningham, and the ten other soldiers around him didn't have to be told what was expected of them, charging after their commander.
The smoke obscured everything.
Niel charged forward, and without warning a DS soldier appeared right in front of him. Without even thinking about it Niel flung the butt of his Galil at his head, knocking him down before he could fire his M-16.
Once the American was on the ground he opened fire, some of the Yank's blood splattering onto his uniform, barely visible against the black fabric.
The explosion of an other artillery shell brought him back to reality, as he continued his rush forward.

Finally he saw more concrete hurdles, representing the new Yankee lines. He was unsure what to do next. Everywhere he looked, he saw Yanks and Inglishmen shooting it out, just meters from each other. He hid behind a blown-out jeep, the Yankee eagle and crossed sabres emblem still visible on the door.
For some reason, maybe it was the heat of battle, maybe his adrenaline peaked, he wasn't sure.
But at that moment it all slowed down for Private Niel Cunningham, first class.
He could see Yanks emerge from the smoke before they knew they were emerging from it. He was picking off soldiers without a second thought.
The sound of advancing Inglish troops behind him just added a sense of calm to whatever feeling, whatever zone he was experiencing.
Then out of the corner of his eye he saw him, his best friend Private Alan Ritchie, first class. He stopped firing, shocked. He was sure Alan was dead. Then, he really was. A DS bullet struck him in the jugular. He was dead before he hit the ground.

"Alan!"
Niel headed to the body of his dead friend.
He did the best to cradle the limp body, tearing off the black helmet and goggles.
Those eyes, the lifelessness of them gave them a quality of their own. They pierced through Niel's heart.
"Alan!" he wailed, cradling his dead friend, his own senses overcome with a mixture of extreme anguish and anger.
After laying his friend's body down on the ground he locked his Galil in an iron-like grip, and charged ahead, determined to break the Yankee line himself if he had to....

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on June 17, 2007, 05:14:00 AM

 The vanguard of the Confederate army was approaching Iron City, though, the "City" part of the name seemed very much undeserved, at least in peace time, here, today, it was a city of DS fortifications, much of which were already in flames.


 Pershing, riding open cupola in a Confederate M1 MBT gave the order for an all out assault, the reinforced Confederate Army, now numbering 700,000, opened up with artillery. The sound of gunfire could be heard in the distance as the army approached, however. Martin MacKenzie relayed the initial reports to General Pershing.

 "Sir, the Inglish report heavy resistance The Yanks are dug in somethin' fierce, and don't seem to plan on going anywhere soon."

 Pershing smiled, lighting a cigarette, "Well, Marty, well just have to change the sonsofbitchs' minds, wont we? Lay in with artillery and MLRS, then I want 'em hit with all we've got!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 The Confederate shells began pounding Iron City with a furious vengeance. The rockets screaming down, attempting to target DS command and control centers. Private Lane huddled with Tilton behind one of the Confederate M1's.

 "Bastards are dug in good!" Lane remarked between explosions.

 "Yep, but, we knock 'em out here, we got a clear shot to Virginny, hell, maybe win the whole goddamn war."

 Lane looked surprised, "Ya think?"

 Tilton nodded assuringly, "Yes siree, I do, hell, what else can they have? Besides, 'ol Chug n Gut knows what he's doin'." The nickname for Pershing was spoken slightly lower than the rest, as the surperior officers tended to frown upon it. Until they were amongst themselves, anyways.

 About that time, the bombardment ceased, and the order given to move forward. Lane and Tilton followed behind the advancing line of M1's only to see them immediately engaged by small arms and RPG fire.

 Lane watched as one of the DS pill boxes exploeded, followed quickly by one of the M1's which had been being used as shelter for another cadre of would be Confederate heroes. A number of infantry, seeing that tanks alone would fall far short of resolving the situation, began rushing forward.

 "Now or never!' Lane screamed as he began running forward, bullets whizzed by, some missing by a long shot, some coming way to close for comfort his finger never let off the trigger, bursts of fire spraying in every direction, as he ran forward, hoping there would be a safe trench to leap into. There was, sort of.
 
 Leaping in, he found three wounded yet trigger happy yankees in the trench next to him, he dispatched two, the last one squeezing off a shot before collapsing, Lane yelped as he felt something bite him in the thigh, looking down, he seen the blood began to trickle from the wound.

 "Fuck!" He yelled, "Medic!" No one came, gunfire still erupting around him, he tore off a portion of a dead DS soldiers shirt, tying it around the wound, he tested his weight on it gently. Wincing at the heavy, yet tolerable pain, he concluded that he'd have to do what he could with what he had, peeking his head upward, firing more shots, he seen a CS tank rolling across the trench, only to explode in a ball of fire. Looking to see from where the shot had come, he seen a DS soldier holding an RPG launcher in a building about two hundred yards away.

 "We need artillery!" He screamed into the comm link, giving the co-ordinance of the building. He waited and watched as shortly thereafter, the building shattered into a million pieces. Crawling out of the trench, he limped forward, tanks and APC's rolling in around him.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on June 21, 2007, 07:28:13 PM

Field Marshal Andrew Theriot made his way through the Inglo-Scotian base camp. The Commonwealth Army had pushed the Yanks back far enough to establish a foot hold in Iron City. The Confederates had attacked from the west, and had established a foot hold themselves. Now the two armies were fighting toward each other in slim DS controlled area between the two. Once that was accomplished they would move against the bulk of the DS forces.

Theriot made his way through the worn torn streets. Most of the space was occupied by white tents, make-shift hospitals. The screams of the patients insider were only muffled by the sounds of the front, a kilometre away at best.
Jeeps full of troops, tanks, and artillery whizzed past him, hurrying to the front. The mechanics worked like hell to get the few damaged tanks still salvageable up and running again.

"Incoming!" a voice yelled, and a soldier dived onto Theriot to protect him him from a DS bomb. The bomb hit an abandoned building a block or two away, luckily nothing of value was jeopardized. Since the Confederate fighters were in limited supply, and the Commonwealth fighters were all offshore on the Navy's carriers, the DSA still held air supperiority in the heartland.

"Bastards" Theriot mumbled to himself as he got to his feet.
Finally he spotted one of the few black tents. Next to the tent flew a small flag, the red "V" of the Commonwealth in the canton, and two white crossed cannons over a silver laurel in the centre, the standard of a Field Marshal in the Commonwealth Army.

Colonel-General Vincent Fox leaned over a map of the city, various markers outlining the positions of the three armies, red for the Commonwealth, grey for the Confederates, and blue for the Yanks.
"Situation" Theriot ordered, entering the tent.

"The Yanks are attempting to retreat out of the slim piece of territory between us and the Confederates. General Pershing is attempting to cut off their escape." 
"Pershing can handle that on his own" Theriot responded, "divert all forces to the main lines against the DSA, and begin bombarding their positions. I want them soft for our final push."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Niel Cunningham was a man possessed. He could see the square blue battle flag of the Confederacy just a block and a half away, its red saltire visible through the smoke. The Yanks, it would seem, were attempting to retreat out of the thin slice of territory between the Commonwealth and Confederate forces. As far as he was concerned no Yank was getting out alive.
"Fall back! The Confederates will clean up the Yankee retreat!"
Commonwealth soldiers immediately stopped firing as they saw Pershing's tanks cut off the Yankee retreat.

"Cunningham!" Srgt. Donovan yelled, "fall back! Let the Confederates do their business!" 
It was if Niel hadn't heard him, he kept firing at the men in green-grey.
Then he felt a pistol press against the back of his neck.
"Fall back now, or I will shot you right here. You're pissed off that your friend was shot, I understand that, but if you don't put that anger to good use as commanded by our superiors I will shot you for insubordination."

Cunningham finally removed his finger from the trigger of his Galil, and turned around to face his sgt. removing his goggles. 
"No one said this was a cake walk" Donovan said gloomily. Now fall back."
Cunningham said nothing. He just gave the Commonwealth salute and began his march back to the front lines.
-----------------------------------------------------
Erik Destler sat in his office in the Department of Foreign Affairs building.
The door opened slightly as his secretary poked her head in.
"Consul Anderson from the Department of War has arrived" she announced.
"Send him in" Destler responded, ceasing his paper work only to put out his latest fag bud out in an ashtray that looked like it had served time on the front itself.

Mark Anderson, the Consul of war entered the room, giving Destler the Commonwealth salute, which Destler responded with in kind.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice Mark."
"As you can imagine, we're very busy across the street" Anderson replied, referring to the Department of War building which stood directly across from the Department of Foreign Affairs on Victory Avenue.

"As you know I just returned from the Confederate States of Dixie, a trip in which I officially entered the Commonwealth into the Pax Imperium alliance" he paused only to light an other cigarette.
"President Anderson pulled me aside to address a concern of the CSD's. It seems their supply of F-18 jets is finite, which of course limits them in areal engagements with the Democratic States Air Force. Our Tornadoes are no help, as they've all been prept for bombing runs against the DS' coastal cities. The DS Air Force still  controls the skies over the majority of the American continent."

"Well I assure you, if I send over any more Tornadoes that supply will be limited as well."
"No, what I am asking you to do is to pull the engineers at Panavia out of their offices, get them on a ship bound for New Cambrington, and tell them to start working with the Confederate engineers on a uniquely Confederate fighter."
"Consider it done Erik" Anderson responded, wishing Destler had just called him to tell him that. But that wasn't Destler's way of doing things.
"They'll be on their way to the CSD by tomorrow."
"Excellent."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on June 21, 2007, 07:40:34 PM

Pvt. First Class James Simmons was running for his life. He could die, and for what? So General Custer could pretend that keeping the Rebs and Limies separate was possible? Now the general seemed to realize the truth, but not until it became clear that he was going to be trapped.
Still, if he could get out of that that sliver of Iron City nicknamed "No Man's Land" by the DS troops, he would be ok, at least until the next Confederate/Commonwealth onslaught. In this place that was a pretty good prospect.

He ducked under a blown out Confederate jeep. Suddenly the firing stopped from the Inglish side. With that he bolted out and began charging toward what he hopped would be the DS lines.
"Freeze, or I'll shoot!"
Simmons stopped dead in his tracks, hearing that southern accent was like nails on a chalkboard these days. Slowly placing his M-16 on the ground he raised his hands above his head.
"Common" a voice behind him murmured as a grey and khaki camo-clad arm pushed him roughly toward a group of twenty or so DS soldiers who were unable to escape No Man's Land before the Confederate tanks shut the door. 

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on June 21, 2007, 09:01:48 PM

Most of Iron City was in flames, the initial Confederate attack on the city had resulted in five thousand dead or wounded, with estimates going much higher for the DSA. Medics had been in short supply, mostly tending only to the most critical in need, Lane had stumbled through most of the battle with the kind of luck only a fool or drunkard could usually boast of.

 Sneaking around and staying close to the nearest Confederate vehicle, he continued taking shots at the fleeing DS soldiers, many of whom were embroiled in hand to hand conflicts with quicker, more able bodied members of the Confederate Army. He took a shot at one of the soldiers in green-grey who was gearing up to deliver the coup de grace against his CSSD counterpart, he sighed with relief as the DS soldier crumpled to the ground.
 
 Just then, a voice coming from behind him, "Soldier! You need medical attention, why the hell didn't you call for one of us sooner?" Lane turned to see a medic crouching behind a tractor tire, He rolled his eyes. War was indeed hell, it was also full of idiots.

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

 Pershing had screamed out orders nearly to the point of having no voice with which to scream. Not so much out of excitement or anger, but just to be heard over the noise of the battle around him. There had been awhile during the initial assault in which he wondered if another approach would be required, slowly but surely however, the DS lines had broke, now, with the Commonwealth Army in sight, he could feel victory within his grasp.

 He popped out of the cupola, lighting a cigarette, the yanks were too busy running now to be shooting at him -much- withdrawing his sidearm, just in case, he got on the comm and growled orders to the northern flank.
 
 "I don't want to see even one of those sons of bitches get out of here, kill 'em if you can, capture 'em if you must, but they are not to meet up with the rest of Custer's army." Changing comm channels, he ordered his command division. "Stay on their asses boys! Looks like Theriot's charging he main body, we're gonna wipe these fuckers out, and then we go up there and show those yanks once and for all whose ground this is!"

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

 President Anderson's life just kept getting better and better. Earlier that morning, he had been telling General Pershing on the phone why he couldn't get him the air cover he wanted, only to later have to also deny him a request for more armour. The DS designs were unreproducible as the components for almost all of the tanks, APC's and aircraft, had been manufactured by different companies, in different states, many of those states were now in a country the CSSD was now at war with. The good news was that this worked both ways, and that the DS was most likely going to have similar issues.

 That however, was small comfort when you were looking over the troop figures. Nearly half of the already modest Confederate Airforce had been destroyed, along with a good number of irreplaceable ground equipment. The navy was coming off alot better, fortuantely, but still was not where he'd like to see it. The answer to this was simple in its realisation, but harder than hell to implement. The Confederacy needed its own unique designs, and the factories to produce them, a way to produce the components it needed to build the DS designs, or a little bit of both.

 Fortunately, thanks to the Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia, the airforce portion of the equation was already being worked on. A number of their most prominent engineers were in New Cambrington working at this moment with their Confederate counterparts on new deisgns for the CAF. A shipyard in Florida had delivered some promising designs for new ships, which Anderson had approved, though he couldn't imagine for the life of him what the CSSD would ever need aircraft carriers for. A fledgeling automotive company in Alabama had volunteered to devote all of its production power to attempting to duplicate DS designs in addition to working with the army to produce Confederate designs. Things were coming together, albeit slowly. The question was would they get what they needed in time.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Aquatoria on June 24, 2007, 11:46:46 PM

The cameras flashed as Deputy Chancellor William Crawford went before the press. "As of this day, the Canada-Quebecois Empire is a member of Pax Imperium and as part of our alliance, Kaiser Paul I and Chancellor Yuri von Hessian have signed a declaration of war against the Democratic States of America. Our naval forces at this time are nearing the American continent. We will aid Sovereign Dixie and Inglo-Scotia in their struggle against the tyranny of President Elliot Frémont. The First Fleet, under the command of Arthur Cook, has been sent to the west coast of the CSSD. There they will be ordered to defend the movement of troops coming to CSSD's Western Front, a front that the Canadian Army has taken command of. The First Shock Army has been sent, as well as the Second Army. They will be joined by other divsions within the week. The Kingdom of Quebec will be sending in the First Quebecois Army to support the First Shock Army. The High Seas Fleet will engage and destroy the DS Pacific Fleet and bombard DS coastal cities. In all, less then a million soldiers has been sent, with another army group being assembled at this very moment. Grand Admiral Guy Trudeau has taken full command of the Canadian naval forces in America. We are sending General Nicholas Brock, commander of the First Shock Army, General Frank Worthington, commander of the First Tank Army, and  General Phillipe Riel, commander of the First Quebecois Army. Also, Kaiser Paul I has named Nicholas Brock Supreme Commander of the American Front. If you have any questions, I will answer them now." 

---

Admiral Guy Trudaeu stood on the bridge of his flagship, the Toronto-class battlecruiser Toronto. The American coastline was ahead of his fleet. He looked around his bridge. Sailors dressed in the Canadian black naval uniforms were doing their duty. These sailors will be remembered. This will be the first time the Canadian Navy battles an enemy fleet. But first, we need to find the DS Pacific Fleet. Who knows, they might find us. He felt good. His first command as Grand Admiral and it will be commanding the first naval engagement in Canadian history. A commodore came up to the admiral.

"Grand Admiral Trudaeu, sir. We have found the DS fleet."

The admiral turned to the commodore. "Where is it, Commodore Hudson?"

Commodore Hudson breathed in nervously. "They are coming down on us on our port side, sir. They are coming within missile range in five minutes sir."

Admiral Trudeau smiled. "Order the fleet to turn to port and steam straight for the DS fleet."

"Sir?"

"Commodore, we steam the fleet in a zig-zag form, so it's harder to hit. The Astrurias carriers let their fighters fly and we fire off our guns. Let the Yankees know how the Canadian fleet fights. Now do it?"

Yes, sir!" The commodore saluted and relayed the admiral's orders. The High Seas Fleet moved in moving from port to starboard, back and forth. The five Toronto cruisers with the fleet armed their 8-inch guns. The Asturias carriers let out their CF-18 Hornets. The fighters flew close the water towards the DS fleet to avoid anti-air weapons. As the fleet slowly got within the range of their guns, the Toronto-class cruisers and the rest of the Canadian fleet let loose with guns and missiles. Admiral Trudeau sat on the bridge. Here's a wake-up call for the Yanks.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on June 28, 2007, 03:30:39 PM

The Canadian shells were exploding just over Admiral Richard Vern's head on the bridge of the DSS Thomas Jefferson.
The Pacific Fleet was caught more or less off-gaurd. They had been planning to strike the Commonwealth Navy's security net around the Confederate coast. Now they had to do a 180 and go on the defensive against the Canucks.
The Canadian fleet was smaller, but very well trained and diciplined. Their jets, CF-18 Hornets, and their ships didn't startle easy.
If nothing else, the Canadian attack was tying up the last functioning arm of the DS Navy.
The American fighters were having difficulty of their own. The CF-18s looked almost identicle to their F-18s. It was the confussion against the Confederate fighters all over again. True, it wernt both ways, but if they were unable to effectivly whipe out the aviation arm of the Canadian High Seas Fleet then the tie went to the Canucks.

"We've lost the Cheyenne!" Commander Robert Mahn called out, refrecncing the carrier that had hastly been renamed from the DSS New Cambrington.
"Shit" Vern called out, to no one in perticular.
"What have they lost?"

"The Ottawa's on the fire, but the damaged in contained. So far they have the advantage, but...."
The commander was interupted by what could only be discribed as Thor's fist itself smashing the Thomas Jefferson.
"Fuck! Torpedos!" Vern yelled.
Not only was the Jefferson hit, but it also ment the Pacific Fleet's submarines had failed to hold their Canadian counterparts at bay.

"We have the Vancouver coming up our port side" an officer yelled.
"The Maine" Vern whispered. The Maine, John Adams, and Glory must be incompacitated.

Vern grabbed the wireless.
"Admiral Vern here. Return to port! This is an order, return to San Francisco!"

"Admiral, we can can still hold them!" Mahn protested.
"Probably, but at what cost? If we take to much damage here, the entire DS Navy will be incompasitated. We need to run today so we can fight tomorrow."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Aquatoria on June 28, 2007, 05:42:23 PM

The crew was cheering. The Admiral just stood on the bridge staring at the plumes of smoke that was the Toronto cruiser Ottawa. The cruiser wasn't going to sink, but the ship would need to get to a port. Guy was happy and cheery inside though. The first naval battle between the Americans and the Canadians was a victory for the Canadians. The real hero though was the cruiser Vancouver. Admiral Guy was impressed. The cruiser single-handedly sank three ships. He needed to meet that captain. But first. "Commodore."

:Sir?"

"Get High Command on the wire. Tell them that we will need the Second and Third Fleets out here. We beat the DS Pacific Fleet, but we didn't destroy them. I want the fighters to be camoflagued so that way we don't hit each other. We're going to need to outnumber them to win this war. Also, call Admiral Cook, tell him he's clear to land troops in Baja. And get me the captain of the Vancouver. I see a promotion coming."

---

The landing in Baja was easy. General Nicholas Brock looked out from his makeshift HQ at the troops assembling. Leopard tanks rumbled by along with self-propelled artillery and towed artillery. He looked at the map of the region. He turned to his division commanders. "We need to liberate the CS of Nevada. So first, I want us to get to the state border and then we will engage the American army there. So far, they have no idea we are coming. By the time they find out we have landed, we will be in Nevada." The General turned to Phillipe Riel, commander of the First Quebecois Army. "I want the Quebecois to protect our right flanks at all times. We will push with an armoured assault in the center. We will send their soldiers back to their own territory. Alright, I want the main army to push deep into the desert. This terrain is perfect for tank warfare, so we penetrate the American lines and head for Las Vegas."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on July 02, 2007, 04:02:17 AM

 Things had a way of happening when Anderson was asleep, he didn't know why, that's just the way it seemed to always turn out. Such was the case with the news of the Canadian declaration of war on the DSA. The news came at 3am, the phone next to his bed ringing with startling volume and surreal clarity.

 "Please tell me no one got nuked?" He said half jokingly and completely groggy.

 "No Jack." Replied the voice of Secretary of State Winger. "The Canadians have declared war on the DSA in our support, and have sortied what looks to be damn near their entire fleet. Initial reports say they have given the yanks one hell of a black eye already."

 "Great." He had expected Canadian involvement shortly after they had joined Pax Imperium, but not this soon, or this much. He continued, "We need to capitalise on this as much as we can, Fremont's gotta be really shitting himself now, if he wasn't already, I want the Enterprise and Endevour back out to sea as soon as possible, I want those boomers making another missile run as soon as they can be re-armed as well.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on July 19, 2007, 08:25:44 PM

Jackson Hillard browsed FXXNews.com.
The image on the front page was that of Jack Anderson, President of the CSD, at a rally in Biloxi, Mississippi.
Jackson found the image somewhat amusing. Not the nature of the picture, just the Confederate flag that hung behind Anderson, with its twenty stars. Anyone who looked at a map knew the CSD only contained nineteen states. In fact in actuality the CSD never contained more then nineteen.
Back during the first Civil War in 1861 the Mormons of Desert has officially seceded from the DSA, but Federal soldiers had subdued the state before it could officially enter the Confederacy. Still, the CSD added a twentieth star to flag in honour of their "Mormon countrymen."
Fast-forward to the present. The nineteen southern states were in rebellion again, the only difference was that this time Desert hadn't seceded from the DSA, but that twentieth star remained on the southern cross.
In all fairness though, Desert was never really given a chance. Even before the CSD had been reborn Washington had sent troops into Desert to keep an eye on the then soon to be born CSD's western border. The DS army's presence hadn't stopped Nevada from officially throwing their lot in with the Confederacy, but things were different in Desert.
Mormons were never really happy to be part of the Democratic States of America. Jackson Hillard knew this better then most. His great-great grandfather had served as John Smith's second in command when the Mormon movement had started in northern New York. He continued on as Bingham Young's second in command when Smith was killed. In fact Craig Hillard stood to become the head of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, but cancer had ended his life while Young was still in charge.
When Desert had been settled it was still Mexican territory, albeit neglected Mexican territory at that. After the DSA had conquered Mexico Desert was split off into its own territory, then state.
Polygamy was outlawed, and the Mormon church was only approved as a recognized religion by five votes in the Senate.
In 1861 they attempted to join the CSD, only Federal troops kept that from becoming a reality.
Now Federal troops kept the mere discussion of possibly joining the Confederacy from becoming a reality.

Jackson shut off his computer, and turned on the television, selecting channel 38, the Discovery Channel, before FXX News could appear on the screen. He just wanted to watch Shark week, not deal with any of the shit involving the war. He had his fill of that for now.
Almost as soon as the image of a moron trying to fit his head in a live great white's mouth graced his screen his phone rang.
"Hillard here" he answered in a casual tone.
"Jackson, it's Nick" Nick Tyler, Jackson's closest friend on the Church Council.
"You watching the news Jack?"
"No, I've had enough of the pissing contest between Fremont and Anderson for one day."
"Trust me, you need to see this."
"What's going on?" Hillard replied, his interest piked.
"Just turn on the news" Nick answered.
"Which one?"
"Anyone!"
With that Anderson switched to FXX. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Ezra Kimball, the President of the Church, stood on the steps of the Mormon Temple, on the other side of Salt Lake City.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the American nations" he said, "it is my duty to inform you all, that as of 4:00 pm SLC time, I signed an executive Church order. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints hereby supports the Confederate States of Dixie in their war of freedom from a foreign oppressor. I prey for the government of the state of Desert to take the appropriate actions."

"Holy shit...." Hillard thought to himself. For all intensive purposes Desert had just joined the Confederacy, if not in actuality then in spirit. True, the head of the church was not head of the state, but almost the entire state government were Mormon. And Mormons saw the President of the Church as a prophet, much like Catholics and the Pope. With one press conference the entire fate of the State of Desert became linked to that of the CSD.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on July 28, 2007, 09:00:37 PM

The 4th DS Army's artillery darkened the sky and thundered throughout northern Nevada.
Reno had just fallen to a combined force of Confederate regulars, Nevada state guardsmen, and Canadian soldiers. They had now fallen back into Los Vegas.
Things weren't good in California either. The 7th DS Army had held yet to be pushed out of Baja, but with the addition of Canadian forces, taking Los Angeles was out of the question.

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

Custer mulled over field reports. Iron City had more or less been reduced to the areas used by the three armies as their bases of operation. The rest of it had been turned into ruin, a system of trenches replacing the roads and sidewalks. Custer's latest plan to drive a wedge between the Confederate and Commonwealth armies had failed miserably, and had left the middle of his line weakened and in retreat. If the allied enemies of the DS could split his army in two it might open the way for all of Tennessee to fall to the Confederates.

"Sir, this just in from Washington" a private said, handing him the President's latest reply to his request to have the armies in Indiana and Iowa move south.
Custer read the letter.
"Situation not urgent enough" and "needless waste of recourses" burned into his soul.
Just as the crumpled up communication hit the floor more bad news was delivered.
"Confederate tanks have outflanked us in the west, Commonwealth tanks have shattered our centre!" Kennedy announced, reading over newly arrived field reports.

Custer lost all control. His long, blond hair giving him the look of a lion gone mad, he turned over the centre table, sending maps flying.
Riping his green-grey officer's jacket off he grabbed a flask jacket, throwing it on.
"Give me that" he grumbled, yanking a M-16 out of a nearby soldier's hands.

"Where are you going sir?" Kennedy demanded, standing up.
"To the fight. I will not lose Tennessee, even if I have to pull her up myself from the abyss of secession."
"I can't allow that sir" Kennedy asserted, confronting his commanding officer.
"We can't lose you to battle."
"Maybe you're right...." Custer said softly, apparently reflecting on his recent actions, before striking Kennedy in the side of his head, sending his glasses flying.
Adam Kennedy law there, knocked out from the general's punch.
"I'm heading to the front lines, and anyone who tries to stop me will get a black eye in the least, and a court marshal at the most."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Myroria on July 29, 2007, 01:13:55 AM

Quote

President Frémont,

The Myrorian government is tired of you denying the Southron people their rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Does this not sound familiar to you? By denying the Southron people their attempt to govern themselves, you are breaking your own principals.

My father only supported the secession attempt. I will be more blunt about it:

If you do not withdraw your forces and recognize the Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie as a legitimate state, Myroria will join Canada and Inglo-Scotia in intervention on behalf of them.

Meneldur Tar-Ilium,
King of Myroria.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Aquatoria on July 29, 2007, 05:24:00 AM

The First Tank Army was moving towads Las Vegas. General Worthington was sitting in his Leopard II tank leading the 1st Tank Army as well as the Army of Nevada and the Nevada State Guard. These armies were closing in on Las Vegas ever so quickly. From hat Worthington knew, Las Vegas was being bombed and was hit by artillery every day. Also if Las Vegas fell, so did eastern Nevada. Then the Canadians can send soldiers to help the Mormons. But right now, it's about Las Vegas. The Allied armies were nearing the city. Las Vegas wasn't the City of Lights anymore, now it was the City of Darkness. Worthington and the Confederate general, Jeb Stuart looked over a map of the area.

Worthington pointed to the city's borders. "If we strike here constantly, the siege shouldn't last that long. Trenches of couse will be needed, but the 1st Tank Army can rip through the 4th DS Army's lines. They are demoralized and a siege will not be something a demoralized army can handle."

Jeb nodded. "We can use the Confederate tanks and infantry to strike from the north. The Guardsmen can attack from the south."

Worthington shook his head. "No, the reservists will need experienced soldiers with them so they don't falter. The Fourth Motorized Divison from my army and the Second Light Infantry from yours can help there. Our CF-35s will constantly fly over the city, becuase I hear that the DS Air Force still is a power that needs to be elimanated. Our artillery and the bombers will continue their attack on the city daily. We will force that army to surrender. If the Fourth surrenders, then the northwestern CSSD is offically free from DS control. Then we can head east to liberate the Mormons and stop any attacks on this area."

Jed Stuart nodded and put on his helmet. "General Worthington, I will lead the northern Confederate attack sir." 

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on August 01, 2007, 03:47:41 AM

Admiral Tobias Paine stared at the smoke rising from the DS' two great twin cities, New Yorkshire and New Ustio. Since breaking the Yankee blockade he had taken the carriers of the fleet north to harass the enemy's coastal cities. Boston and Philadelphia had taken a beating, but orders from Beaconsfield had told him to focus on New York's Twin Cities. The propaganda value alone would be enough, not to mention the psychological devastation it would cause for Americans to see their two greatest cities under attack, unable to defend themselves.

Paine grabbed a pair of binoculars, staring at the Freedom Tower and the Empire State Building in New Yorkshire, before switching over to the Prudential Building and Packard Building in New Ustio.
Rather then stunning, tall buildings they now looked like the ruins of a lost civilization. They were still standing, but they had been hollowed out, the soul kicked out of them by Commonwealth bombs. The Statue of Liberty still stood, but that was an Inglo-Scotian courtesy. The LP had made that clear. To a lot of Confederates the statue still stood for something noble, the country it was located in just lost its way. Destroying the statue was sure to cause a lot of grief in Montgomery.

"Send the Tornadoes" Paine ordered into the wireless, referring to the Tornado GR-4 fighter/bombers.


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

General Cooke ducked in the trenches as a Yank shell went off over his head.
"FOR YOU GENERAL!" a private yelled over the chaos over head, "from General Theriot!"
Cooke nodded, taking the wireless.
"Field Marshall Theriot, Cooke reporting."
"How are you holding up General?" the FM asked, knowing the answer already.
"Fine sire, the Yanks' push backfired, they're weak up the middle"
"I know, I need you to lead your platoon into that soft spot, make them see 6's and 7's"
"Yes sir!" Cooke responded.
"Long Live the Victorious Revolution Sire!"
"Long Live the Victorious Revolution General."

Switching frequencies, Cooke yelled into the wireless.
"This is General Cook, I Platoon V-79-F8 advance up the Yank centre!"
The transmission was carried to the platoon lieutenants, who would in turn lead the charge. 

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on August 01, 2007, 04:18:28 AM

Fremont sat in the bunker of the White House, the only place he as President could logically be at the moment. He had to stay in Washington, but he couldn't leave the bunker.
He hated the bunker. Even if the war was going splendidly for the Democratic States he would still hate it. The atmosphere just gave off a feeling of dread. The mood was not made any better by the letter the President was holding. Soon the cream-coloured letter was crumpled into a ball and discarded to the floor.

"Punk."
That's the only word that crossed the President's mind.
Meneldur Tar-Ilium, the new king of Myroria, was a punk. He was a young, cocky PoS as far as Fremont was concerned. He thought he could just throw his military power around, at the DSA no less? It was bad enough he had let the damn Canucks set up their puppet state, now he was jumping on the growing dog pile forming atop the Democratic States of America.

"Your official response Sir?" Greg Emery, his Secretary of State, asked.
Fremont had made it his personal policy not to respond to PI nations. It was his way of stabbing back at them for recognizing the independence of the Confederacy.
"My response? That 'king's' response is me authorizing an other bombing of Charleston."

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

General Derick Armstrong of the 4th DS Army sighed as he retreated north to Oregon. He had been pushed out of Nevada, making the Silver State the first DS-occupied Confederate state to be fully liberated. He could only wish that the Los Vegas slogan "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" was true. With the east in a stalemate and the navy more or less decimated the DSA needed good news, and losing Nevada didn't help.
Armstrong wasn't sure what would be next. Maybe he'd be stripped of his command, maybe Washington was to busy with the happenings in Tennessee to worry about what had just happened, and he'd get the chance to swing into Desert and help quell the Mormons. Or maybe the War Department realized they need a success somewhere, and they'd send him to try and break the stalemate on the Baja/California border. If the DS could capture Los Angeles it would mean Baja would be forced back into the DS. That's only if the War Department in Washington had any sense though, which they had so far proven they didn't.
"I guess that's hat you get after 12 years of the Progressive Party meddling with the military" he thought.
If anything good was going to come out of the DS getting their teeth kicked in, he thought, it would be that the Progressive Party would more or less fade away.

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

Custer was like a man possessed. It all seemed like slow motion. He knew where the Confederate soldiers were before they did. His M-16 lit up the smoke-filled battle ground, the flashes of the rounds giving his blond hair and beard an eerie glow. Come hell or high water he would keep the Confederate army from out-flanking his men, even if he had to shoot every damn Rebel and Limy his self.
Suddenly he saw it, a grey tank, the CSD battle flag painted on the front.
The man with his torso exposed, firing away at good old American boys? Frasier Pershing.
He aimed his weapon, and just as he was about to pull the trigger and explosion had broken his concentration.
Regrouping himself he re-aimed his weapon at Pershing. Only the view he saw was different. Rather then a Pershing unaware of his position the old southern general locked his gaze on his northern counterpart.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Aquatoria on August 01, 2007, 08:07:11 PM

Admiral Trudaeu watched the Canadian fleet moved silently towards the American city of San Fransisco. The Pacific Fleet was anchored in the harbor ever since the Canada-Quebecois Empire declared war on the Democratic States. A few squadrons of the DS Pacific Fleet were truly out in the Pacific hunting the Canadian Fleets. Guess they think that we won't raid San Fransisco, or they think that we can't. The High Seas Fleet was reinforced with one of the three new Artorion-class supercarrier, and four Ontario-class battleships. The Kaiser Paul was a monster of an aircraft carrier. Over a thousand feet long, this ship contained more fighters then the average carrier. The new CF-35s were preparing to fly off the deck of the supercarrier and the smaller Nimitz carriers. Over four hundred planes were going to be used on this raid. The admiral was on the bridge of the lead battleship Ontario He looked to the left and the right of his ship and saw the three other battleships, theManitoba, the Nova Scotia, and the Newfoundland. They were protecting the transports that carryed the troops and tanks that would destroy the port city. The night sky was covering the ships. He turned to Commodore Hudson. "Tell the planes and trnasports to go. If the Yankees find the transports, I want the fleet to fire cruise missiles to keep them busy. Understood?"

Commodore Hudson saluted. "Yes sir."

---

Captain Arthur Brown was in the cockpit of his CF-35. He liked the new fighter jets. They were stealth fighters and were hard to find, and when they were found, it was hard to bring one down. This plane could outfight any other jet in the world. He flew over the ocean towards San Fransisco. The Army boys would land and destroy important buildings and military buildings. The Canadian Air Fleet was moving in and were almost on top of the city. The anti-air missiles weren't fired meaning that the Yanks hadn't noticed them. Arthur could see an aircraft carrier. That's mine. "All units pick a target and let them have it." The other fighters veered off to take out their targets. Arthur turned to attack the aircraft carrier. He fired four missiles at the ship. One hit the tower and the other three destroyed the airway. "Yeeha!" The Canadian air force was decimating the DS Navy. Arthur could see the transports land their troops. The raid was going as planned. With the Pacific Fleet all but destroyed, the Canadian Navy is in full command of the western coast. Ships were burning and sinking in the harbor. The aircraft carrier that Artur hit was capsizing. He briefly read its name on the back. It was the Thomas Jefferson. He had hit and destroyed the Pacific Fleet's flagship. This day was a day that would live on in infamy for the Democratic States.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Xyrael on August 02, 2007, 03:11:15 PM

Quote

STATE COMMUNICATIONS

To: Democratic States of America
From: The State of Xyrael

We have heard of the Separatist insurgency which
ravages your nation. We are appalled by the support it
is receiving in overthrowing the legitimate and rightful
government that you have established.
The State of Xyrael wishes to offer economic,
morale, and material support to the Democratic
States of America so that it may maintain national
and cultural unity. A fractured region of would-be
brothers is not needed in this day and age.

Quote

STATE COMMUNICATIONS

To: Pax Imperium
From: The State of Xyrael

We are curious if supporting insurrections within
legitimate and recognized nations has become
the doctrine of the Pax Imperium. Does the Pax
Imperium seek to cause discord and anarchy
among civilized peoples, and endanger the lives
of countless innocents?

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Myroria on August 02, 2007, 03:19:00 PM

Quote

Xyrael,

When the state in question is abusing, stereotyping, and taking away the rights of the state that wants to secede, yes.

And if you don't like anarchy, tell your communist friends to stop supporting revolutions and invading legitimate territories.

Meneldur Tar-Ilium

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Xyrael on August 02, 2007, 04:20:44 PM

Quote

STATE COMMUNICATIONS

To: Meneldur Tar-Ilium
From: The State of Xyrael

Perhaps your Grace should pay more attention to international politics.
The State of Xyrael did not support the UASS with any direct
military action in any of its actions. The State of Xyrael seems
to recall Inglo-Scotia's oppression and stereotyping, of
the Eire people. Furthermore, the State seems to recall your
support of said oppression. Perhaps you consider
yourself and your allies justified in oppressing minorities while
holding the rest of the world at a double standard.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Aquatoria on August 02, 2007, 05:18:41 PM

Quote

To: The State of Xyrael
From: The Canada-Quebecois Empire

The Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie is a founding member of Pax Imperium. This is a PI matter. We as members can by choice defend the soveriegnty of the CSSD. We are asking you, nicely to back down from this matter.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Myroria on August 02, 2007, 05:34:32 PM

Quote

Xyrael,

The Eireans immediately began a campaign of terror against innocent Inglo-Scotians, which is why we did not support their secession. The Southroners, however, declared their independence and did not strike at all. The DSA was the one that invaded and attempted to force them to rejoin. The Eireans would kill hundreds of innocent Inglo-Scotians, without knowing their ideas about their secession or anything. The Southroners would only attack soldiers. The Eire Republican Army are a bunch of murderous criminals, while the Confederate States are politicians, citizens, and, contrary to what the Democratic States would have you believe, civilized individuals.

---

Roosden Vyarden East Army Base, Western Leitzembourg
168 hours after the Myrorian ultimatum

The Empeurer had waited and waited for a reply to his letter. 72 hours after it was sent, and with no reply, he decided the time for surrender was over. Now a cargo plane was touching down at the airstrip, unloading the last of the 16,000 Myrorian troops. The head of the base stood on a stage there, with the men assembled below.

"Men, you are the first part of a Myrorian offensive into the Democratic States of America. They have been oppressing and spitting upon their Southern countrymen, and they had enough of it. Not long ago, they declared their independence. Peté only supported the secession, but His Majesty has decided the time to stand by and cheer on is over. One week ago, he sent an ultimatum to the American government. With no response within 72 hours, the men on standby were loaded onto planes like the one taking off now and flown to Roosdan Vyarden East.

"To the south of us are the American states of Cascadia and California. We will stop at the border of the two, and split into two groups of 8,000 each. We'll burn down a few courthouses, maybe occupy Portland or San Francisco, they'll surrender by the end of the week. If they don't, well, we'll push south and then east, meeting the Southern armies for some last couple of battles. A few more thousand will be sent from Myroria just in case we need more, but I personally doubt it. Dismissed, we'll head out at 0800."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Xyrael on August 02, 2007, 06:45:16 PM

Quote

STATE COMMUNICATIONS

To: Meneldur Tar-Ilium
From: The State of Xyrael

So should a full half of Myroria sign a piece of paper
denouncing your government and declaring theirs
legitimate, you would allow them to do so? We have
no doubt that the Southrons are upstanding and
good spirited individuals, but the actions of the DSA
are perfectly legal by all accounts, and the Northerners
should not be punished for any actions their government
takes. Furthermore, the new government of Xyrael wishes
to state that should any force threaten the legitimate
governments of the Pax, it would provide the same support
to Pax forces. We are not lending military support, merely
offering to trad goods between one legitimate nation to another.

We will not be supporting the DSA with military forces, and
should the Southrons be successful we hope that they will
be kind to the Northern citizens, who are not to blame for
their governments 'misdoings'. We would also welcome any
representative of the Southron people to meet with a
representative of the Xyraeli State.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on August 03, 2007, 10:36:55 PM

General David McMahon, the brother of the Vice President of the Democratic States, crouched in a trench just north of Portland.
The Myrorians had just entered the war against the DS. No sooner had he taken his men away from the fight on the California/Baja border to meet the Myrorians had they hit him with everything they had.
McMahon was determined to make a stand though. The Crouts may not have faced any opposition on the way over (the DS Navy had been rendered useless in embarrassingly quick order), but that didn't mean their march from Portland to San Francisco was going to be a cake walk. If General Smith down south could keep the Confederate/Canadian forces from breaking through the Baja/California border and sandwiching the DS' west coast armies he might be able to hold the Myrorians in Cascadia.
An other Myrorian shell went off over his head, as the northwest rain made life in the trenches that much more miserable.

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

General Adam Kennedy turned around in his seat to take one last look at Nashville, the vertical red and white stripped flag, with the 50 blue stars on the white field, the civilian flag of the Democratic States, flew in the wind. The setting sun gave it a majestic feel, Kennedy had to admit, but it was still a somber sight. Within a day the Confederate flag, the white banner with the battle flag in the canton, and the Inglo-Scotian military banner would take its place.
Kennedy then looked ahead. The Rebs and Limies might have been held to a stalemate in Iron City, if Custer hadn't gotten himself killed.
By all accounts the fool had gone after Pershing himself, only to have the old general from Kentucky place a bullet in between his eyes. Kennedy was promoted to General and placed in command of all DS military operations on the east coast.

He had new orders now. Swing to Charlotte in North Carolina to prepare for an other stand. Pershing was moving his army north, he was going for Virginia, the key objective of the Confederate war aim. If they could capture Virginia they were a stone's throw away from the state of Columbia, and it's largest city, the DS' capital of Washington. Stopping Pershing in North Carolina was essential.
"Well at least I won't have to deal with Theriot" he thought to himself.
That was a calming thought. After Iron City had fallen Pershing had gone east, then north, heading to Virginia. Theriot, however, had decided to advance west, then north. The Commonwealth commander was trying to take Arkansas, Tennessee, and Kentucky. He would be General Craine's problem.
"Good" Kennedy thought.
"Let him deal with the Limies."
The Inglo-Scotian infantry unnerved him. It really did. They just kept coming, even in the face of the heaviest fire the DS Army could throw at them.
"That's probably because their own officers shot them if they retreat" Kennedy said quietly to himself.
"They would probably prefer to be buried as heroes rather then traitors."
That aside, the sight of the boys in black continuing to advance was something he would rather leave to someone else.

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

Private first class William Skinner peaked over the trench south of Little Rock. The Inglo-Scotians had just attacked. Tornadoes, recently arrived from the Commonwealth, had been launched from air fields in Alabama, their bombs were wreaking havoc on the defences around Arkansas' capital.
"Where the fuck are they?" he thought to himself, thinking of the F-18s from Ohio.
"Skinner!" his sergeant yelled.
"Yes sir!"
"Grab your weapon, we're heading out to meet the Limies head on!"
"Is he crazy?" Skinner thought.
"I know, it's nuts" the sergeant replied, seemingly reading his mind.
"General Caine's lost it, he's just decided to throw bodies at the enemy, hopefully our numerical advantage will grind them down."
"Yes sir!" Skinner replied.

He was making his way through the lunar-like terrain around Little Rock, dust, dirt, and smoke creating a thick fog around him.
Suddenly he heard gunfire.
"Shit!" he yelled, ducking into a recently made creator.
"They're coming!" he heard one of his fellow soldiers call out from a creator just a metre or so behind him.
Skinner quickly pulled a pin from a grenade and lobbed it in the direction of the advancing Commonwealth army.
"You got a couple!" his comrade remarked just as the explosion rocked his surroundings.

TBC

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Myroria on August 04, 2007, 01:47:28 AM

Marschall Erwin Westenhousen couldn't see 10 feet in front of him. As rain poured down on his command tent, he studied the photos taken of the battlefield from a spy satellite. The pictures from higher up, and were less defining then he would have liked, but he could make out some trenches. Looking at a sketch he made of the positions, he drew lines from the numerous green triangles (armored vehicles), around the red circles (artillery) in front of them, and towards the lines that indicated trenches. The Leopard 2 tanks the Imperial government provided him were attached with machine guns on the front, and he would use these to clear out the trenches...just as the Belsenists did to the Royalist's trenches back in the Myrorian Civil War. But this time it was for the good of Myroria, instead of the bad.

Getting in the drivers seat of his Mercedes-Benz Commanding Officer Vehicle - which basically looked like a sedan that was armored and could drive off-road  - he went to the tanks in the rear and gave them their orders.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Aquatoria on August 04, 2007, 03:01:03 AM

General Nicholas Brock looked over the reports of the raid on San Fransisco. the raid was successful. The loss of a majority of the DS Pacific Fleet meant that with the exception of a few squadrons, the Canadian navy had complete control of the DS west coast. He looked at the map of the Baja/California border. His units were preparing for an invasion of the Democratic States of America. More troops were brought over from the Empire, over a million more men just to be launched at the California front. He looked outside of his headquarters and could see tanks and artillery moving to the front. Men dressed in kahaki uniforms. They were about to mount an invasion into the Democratic States. Confederate soldiers marched alongside the Canadians. They were going to sandwich the west coast armies between the Canadian/Confederate army and the northern Myrorian army. Nicholas Brock picked up the radio. "All units move forward, I want to break through the DS army and head for San Fransisco."

---

Private Zack Chad was at the California front. He kept his rifle at the ready, his battalion was moving into a Yankee city called Oakland that had been pounded to hell by artillery. They could hear explosions meaning that the artillery were still hitting Yankee positions. He looked at another of his friends, Arthur MacGregor. "Hey Artie, when are we going to get this Oakland. My feet hurt." Arthur smiled. "Well, all I heard was that when we get to this city, we can mount an invasion on the provincal...no state capital of San Fransisco. Then we just sandwich the retreating Yanks in between us and the Myrorians. Then if the DSA doesn't surrender than, we move east."

Zack looked at his friend. "I heard that General Worthington has moved his men into that Mormon state."

"I don't like Mormons that much, thank fully there are only a few in Canada-Quebec but at least here, they know who's side to be on."

Zack nodded. They arrived at the front in Oakland. The city was pounded to pieces, but the Canadian-Quebecois flag flew over the city. Over yonder was San Fransisco. The Yanks had dug in between San Fransisco and Oakland. If the Canadians wanted California, they would have to take it. The battalion moved down as planes screeched overhead. The Battle of San Fransisco was about to begin. But from what Zack could see, it wasn't going to be easy.

---

Four days had passed since the Battle of San Fransisco began and the Canadian/Confederate army had gained little ground . The Yankees were yielding little and were inflicting heavy losses on the Canadians and the Confederates in exchange of their own. Captain Charles French was standing in a trench waiting for the next Yankee attack. The battles at the beginning of the campaign were near to easy. The Americans were demoralized by the swiftness of the Canadian onslaught, but now they seemed to have gathered themselves into a powerful defense. Charles knew this. He had to get his men into the Yankee trenches without getting the alot of them killed. The last attacks were defeated and the presence of scorching tanks shells and crashed planes were evidence of that. He turned to his men. The Canadians and the Confederates were prepared to break the Yankee morale in the west once and for all. "All right men, I'm not going to get into a long and pointless speech. I'm just going to say that we have done our duty many times over. Let's do it one more time."

The Canadian lines became alive as Confederates and Canadians swarmed out of their trenches. Artillery fired just in front of them as if to hide the real assault. Tanks and tank destroyers followed. Helicopters attacked Yankee lines to make sure they kept their heads down. The Canadians finally got into the Yankee lines and the battle surged into a melee brawl. Confederates armed with knife bayonets and Canadians with longer sword-bayonets fought the Yankees with every thing they had. Captain French made his way onto a hill where the Yankees had plated their flag. French pulled out the flag and threw it on the ground. He and two other men lifted the flag of the Canada-Quebecois Empire. The allied force pushed forward causing the Yankees to fall back into San Fransisco. Once in the city, Canadian artillery brought everything they could bear on the state capital. Soon a white flag was flown. The Democratic States Fourth Army surrendered.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Xyrael on August 05, 2007, 07:36:11 AM

Quote

STATE COMMUNICATIONS

To: Canada-Quebecois Empire
From: The State of Xyrael

It has come to our attention that the Canada-Quebecois
Empire is firing heavy ordinance upon high population
density areas. We kindly ask the Canada-Quebecois
Empire to cease this appalling tactic, and fervently
request that the Canada-Quebecois Empire immediately
dispatch a sizeable medical team to tend to the wounded
civilians. Once again, the actions of the Democratic States
government do not justify the death of it's citizens.

Several large transports had been finished receiving supplies. One vessel was stocked with medical equipment and supplies, another large amounts of Xyraeli food, and a supertanker with more than enough fuel to supply the Democratic States Army. Another freighter was loaded with various types of munitions, as well as 4,000 SSR-50 (AS-50 Sniper Rifles). Within hours the crew had made their preparations to sail for the Democratic States, and were ghosted by two Akula-class submarines.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Aquatoria on August 05, 2007, 07:12:11 PM

Quote

To: The State of Xyrael
From: The Canada-Quebecois Empire

The Democratic States of America currently occupies the Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie, and the death of their citizens by the Democratic States is more appaling. They pillaged and raped when they took those states. If the Fourth Army thinks that hiding behind civilians in San Fransisco was going to stop my bombardment, they were dead wrong. Our bombardment of San Fransisco is to teach them what the southerners are currently going through. Medical teams are currently in San Fransisco helped the wounded and displaced civilians, but I will not change my strategy unless the President of the Confederate States tells me otherwise. Until then, if DS civilians don't want to undergo a bombardment, they would do best to leave their cities when we arrive. I have used this straetgy in Las Vegas, and Carson City. And I will continue to use it until the DSA surrenders.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Xyrael on August 07, 2007, 04:46:07 AM

The Xyraeli vessels were well on their way to Boston, the sailors tending to the crafts as they sliced through heavy waves, a bitter storm beating at their rugged faces. The Akula-class submarine Atlatl followed deep under the waves, her Captain reading over his orders through worn and weathered eyes. He was slightly disappointed that his men would not see combat, but he knew the State was not properly motivated enough to commit troops.

State media had begun covering wounded Northerners as well as Southerners. War is war, it's a tragedy, but when both sides must attack civilians to prove a point it only serves to bring two peoples closer together as the find a common sense of purpose, said the State Press. The American states would indeed unify some day. The south may or may not 'win' the war, but the American people were seperated by a meaningless imaginary line, and they would unite under the flag of brotherhood one day. The State Media, however, was beginning to portray the Myrorians and Canadians as men killing Americans, not Northerners, for there was no difference between a northerner and a southerner beyond geographical location. To kill one American was tantamount to killing any other, and this was tragic.

Quote from: Xyraeli Convoy Broadcast to DSA

A supply convoy is approximately eight hours off your northeastern coast, currently headed for Boston. With it are medical supplies, munitions, foodstuffs, and fuel. These items are being given in a good faith gesture so that the DSA may better protect her civilians from the brutal effects of war. Should the civilian death toll continue to rise, the State of Xyrael will consider requisitioning more equipment, but should the DSA cause harm intentionally to any Southern civilian populace the State will reconsider it's offer. These vessels are being flown under a flag of neutrality.

Quote

STATE COMMUNICATIONS

To: Sovereign Dixie
From: The State of Xyrael

The Xyraeli State Press wishes to imbed reporters with several of
your units as well as other Pax Imperium units so that the
State may gauge the extent to which all American civilians are
harmed. This request is put to you so that should the American
states unify, there will be no ill will between Northerner and
Southerner. Surely the Southerners do not wish to 'oppress'
the Northerners as the Northerners 'oppressed' the Southerners.
War crimes must be prevented, for the benefit of America as a whole.

OOC: If the Northerners hide in a town, at least allow them time to flee, and set up the necessary measures to do so. I understand the military advantage gained by not allowing the Southerners to regroup, but a siege and blockade of a city as well as propaganda is better than murdering Americans, northerner or southerner.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on August 08, 2007, 03:47:04 AM

 The war was going well, Pax Imperium allies were destroying the Yankee armies wholesale. The burden of Confederate, Inglo-Scotian, Canadian, and Myrorian lives being lost to an enemy too stupid and too stuborn to surrender was growing heavier by the day, however. Pershing's army was north of Iron City completing it's resupply, Enterprise and Endevour were on their way to strike New Yorkshire and out west, the Confederate/Canadian armies unleashed Fear and Loathing upon Las Vegas.

 President Anderson, in a closed door meeting with higher ranking members of the Legislature and Cabinet, decided that the end to this war must be pursued more agressively, if there were, in fact, to be a CSSD left when all was said and done. It was with a heavy heart he signed his agreement to the plan presented before him.

 The following statement was released to all media outlets.

Quote

 In response to Xyraeli assistance to DSA forces seeking to occupy and subjugate our nation, a Declaration of War has been issued by the Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie, and shall be in effect until the Xyraeli government recognises our claim to self sovereignty and our government.

 The Enterprise and Endevour carrier battle groups headed north towards New Yorkshire.

 In the west, the ballistic missile sub Louisiana began making it's way north as well, escorted by the carrier Reciprocity.

 From Iron City Tennessee, General Pershing's army, now 800,000 strong, swarmed into Virginia, heading towards Columbia, the capital of the Democratic States of America.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Aquatoria on August 08, 2007, 04:59:48 AM

General Brock looked over the Confederate declaration of war against Xyrael. He thought to himself. What to do? What to do? I don't have the authority to declare war on Xyrael right now. Canadian Generals Worthington and Riel and Grand Admiral Trudeau as well as the other two Confederate counterparts, Generals Stuart and Alexander sat and listened. Brock looked at a map of the DSA and CSSD. "Alright, gentlemen, we have a problem. We have vast amounts of soldiers coming in every day and that's great. But we have a problem. What are we going to do about the declaration of war by the Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie on the State of Xyrael? Our Confederate friends here will agree on a declaration of the Canada-Quebecois Empire on the State of Xyrael if we decide. But first I need to know a few things. Grand Admiral, what is our naval capacity?"

"We control the entire west coast of this continent. Yesterday, the High Seas Fleet was joined by elements of the Myrorian Navy. The Third and First Fleets are also here to bolster our power. As far as I know, two more Myrorian fleets are arriving any day to help hunt down the remaining squadrons of the DS Navy. The loss of San Fransisco was the killing blow to the DS Pacific Fleet."

Brock nodded. "Good, Generals. What about our land forces?"

Worthington started. "I have moved half my force and the Confederate army into Deseret to free the Mormons there. Jeb Stuart is leading them. The rest of the First Tank Army and the Nevada State Militia is on the border of Nevada along with the First Quebecois Army. We are more than prepared."

Brock breathed in relief. "I don't know about you gentlemen, but I will not send in a Canadian declaration of war until I talk to the Confederate President. Perhaps I can deter him from this. He must know that we can't hold off the DSA and Xyrael at the same time. We need to talk about this first. Perhaps, the Xyrael State will stand down from the War of Secission if they know that we are not going to occupy the northern states that we have invaded."

The Confederate generals didn't look happy but they also knew that here on the Western front, General Brock was the Supreme Commander over the PI armies in the region.

Quote

To: President Anderson
From: General Nicholas Brock, Commander of the Canadian Armies in America and Supreme Commander of the Western Front
I wish to have an audience with you on your recent declaration of war. Perhaps we can discuss it in further detail and perhaps have a Xyrael delegate there to be present. They need to know that we will return the states that we currently occupy.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on August 08, 2007, 06:08:18 AM

(click to show/hide)

Quote

 General Brock,

 We do not seek a broader war against Xyrael, however, we do demand that they cease assitance to the DSA, or their forces in the west *will* meet a fiery and devastating end. I shall meet with you, and a Xyraeli should they chose to attend. On another note, please be advised the Confederate Navy is sending a task force into the area consisting of the carrier Reciprocity, the SSBN Lousiana, and escorting ships. They are bound for the California coast. All PI forces need to be out of the San Francisco area within the next 12 hours.

Jack Anderson

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: St Oz on August 08, 2007, 06:11:06 PM

Quote

(http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1326/1052213861_8c9767e157_o.png)Ozian Correspondence

                      President Anderson,
     Because of your recent actions and aggressions towards the state of Xyrael, the Res'shev and I both decided that the Sanct'zhizi Demporav dev Sanct Ozia will now declare war on the state of Sovereign Dixie to defend our Eastian allies and commerce with Xyrael. If you so choose to lift your aggressive stance on the state of Xyrael, then I will lift my retaliation on Sovereign Dixie. Our time of La'aze has come against the Southern Imperialists.

Sancta Adara Revia Oz

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Xyrael on August 08, 2007, 06:28:55 PM

Quote

STATE COMMUNICATIONS

To: Democratic State Of America
From: The State of Xyrael

We are not your military ally, and do not wish to be by default. Xyraelites
will not bleed on American soil for a cause that is not theirs. Therefore,
we ask that you realize your plight. Your people suffer effects of a dire
war which only serves to damage your economy. Should you succeed,
your political power will be devastated as people vote against you, and
should you retract their right to vote you will instead gain rioters. We
will not support a nation which recklessly endangers the lives of its civilians
by fighting a war it can not win. We will assist you in rebuilding your nation,
and supply you with proper humanitarian aid as necessary. Furthermore,
we will offer a loan in the amount of $600 billion to rebuild your economy as
you see fit, and we will assist you in rebuilding your military as necessary.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Aquatoria on August 08, 2007, 07:54:09 PM

The General was in a limo towards the Confederate White House in Richmond. His plane had landed only an hour ago, and he was already nervous. If this failed then war would be sparked. A pointless war. He held a telegram he got only a few moments before landing. He picked up his phone. "Get me General Worthington in Oakland...Thank you...General Worthington, this is General Brock...Yes...President Anderson has asked me to pull all PI forces out of San Fransisco...Yes...I'm not sure about the medical teams...I would advise to keep them there for the civilians...Yes, I'm pulling up into the President's driveway right now...Yes...You are in command until I return...Yes...In a few days I believe...Alright, goodbye, General." The driver opened the door of the limo. General Brock came out in his dress uniform and ceremonial saber. He thanked the driver and was escorted up the stairs to the White House. An agent asked for his sword. "What?! No, I will not hand over my sword. I am the commander of the western front, you really think I'm going to gut the president." The agent backed off. (ooc: after the canadian peace summit, high rankinbg officers are touchy about handing over their ceremonial weapons.) He walked into the President's office and there sat President Anderson. The general shook the president's hand. "It's nice to finally meet you. Perhaps we can start this because there is a front I need to get back to."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Lia on August 09, 2007, 03:39:36 AM

To those unaware, this war has been planned by Dixie and myself for some time now. Every other nation that has involved itself (Myroria, Xyrael, Canada, Oz) has only done so after contacting either myself or Dixie. To preserve the intended nature of this thread, involvement can only be obtained through Dixie, Inglo-Scotia, or the DSA.
This has been the Voice of Fate, have a great day.
-Mike K (Inglo-Scotia, DSA), RP Mod
 

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on August 09, 2007, 01:50:48 PM

 The ballistic missile sub Louisiana launched her missile at 1am Western Daylight Time. The 5kt warhead exploded over the harbour area of San Fancisco, an atomic fireball rose into the air as all within a ten mile radius was incenerated, the shockwave destroying nearly everything it touched for another fifteen miles.

 

 Moments later, Anderson released the following statement.

Quote

 Moments ago, on orders of the President, an attack on the DSA naval port in San Francisco was launched, utilising a low yield tactical nuclear device. This has been done with the aim of ending this conflict and to prevent futher loss of Confederate lives. General Pershing is en route to Columbia with his army to force a surrender of all DSA forces and to secure Dixie's independence.

OOC: LIA, identify yourself, DSA/IS was not contacted about this, I refuse to recognise your attack.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Xyrael on August 10, 2007, 05:28:08 AM

Quote

STATE COMMUNICATIONS

To: Sovereign Dixie
From: The State of Xyrael


The State of Xyrael fully recognizes that the time of diplomacy
with the Democratic States has passd. The State wishes to
notify Sovereign Dixie that it is now withdrawing all support from
the DSA and wishes to sue for peace.

The State of Xyrael must express it's alarm at the use of nuclear
weaponry against fellow Americans. You have killed citizens of a
country you were formerly a part of, brothers and sisters colonists
from your own South. This fratricide is frightening, the willingness
to spill the blood of people who are of the same flesh as you worries
Xyrael. The notion that a Xyraelite would exterminate fellow
Xyraelites when their homes have already been taken by the military.
The Southern states allies had taken San Francisco, the innocent
blood spilled their was peaceful, under the sacred white flag of
surrender, and yet you would not hesitate to use nuclear force. This
act is shameful. The State of Xyrael will not recognize a cruel and
sadistic psuedo-nation such as Sovereign Dixie so long as she wishes
to exercise the use of extreme and unnecessary force to win her wars.
The State means no ill-will to the Southern people, but it will not assist
Sovereign Dixie in any way until they have redeemed themselves. The
Californian people are not the DSA President and should not have been
treated as such.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on August 10, 2007, 07:16:53 PM

Quote

 To: Xyrael

 We accept your offer of peace, and revoke our declaration of war against your nation. The use of nuclear weapons was employed that Fremont and the world may realise that Southerners are no longer going to be the brunt of jokes made in sneering jest by our "countrymen". Fratricide was began as the practice of the DSA since the onset of Fremont's war of genocide against our rightfully sovereign nation. Do not presume to lecture us on morality. The Confederacy has nothing to redeem itself from, and should our nation be in such peril in the future, we shall not hesitate to use every means at our disposal, that our people may be free from tyranny.

 Jack Anderson

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Khem on August 10, 2007, 07:43:05 PM

To: Jack Anderson

 we the Peoples democracy of Uichi Ryu are disgusted by your use of nuclear force. we shall forgive on this one occasion but be warned that if you use such force again we shall deam you blood enemies and declare fullscale war. this is your one warning. however we do wish to keep good relations between our nations as we believe you quite capable of the politeness that you southern yankees are known for. we sincerely hope this message is taken the way it is meant and we hope that your war ends quickly as we know the suffering of a civil war. we also offer to you the aide of our emergency response units, military engineers and our veritable army of construction workers to help soothe the damages of this war.

sincerely,
Lieutenant Fury
in place of Prime Minister Black.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: St Oz on August 10, 2007, 07:54:12 PM

To: Jack Anderson
From: Dire Fali Zev Karpov, Owner of Zev Technologies and Top Ozian Nuclear Physicist

I am concerned of such and outrageous and cowardice action on the DSA, even though I do not have any favor on either side I find it non-comforting that you released those radioactive materials without any clean up. I however feel it is my duty as a Nuclear Physicist to send in teams to liquefy the region and help bring more stabilization. If left untreated the area may not be safe for humans for a longer period of time. Already various new cancers are probably developing. With my Anti-Radiation teams we can help stabilize the area and make sure to keep long-term damage to its minimum. However this isn't going to be free, and you will have have to pay us for it is very expensive to stabilize zones.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Pachamama on August 10, 2007, 08:01:58 PM

Quote

The Federation of Terrangar is shocked and outraged that you have taken to the use of such measures as nuclear weapons.
We will supply medical aid to those who have come under this inhuman measure.
We ask that you give us permission to send medical aid and allow us to transfer the worst cases to our country for intensive care.

Rokan Folong
President of the Federation of Terrangar.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on August 10, 2007, 08:31:33 PM

President Anderson read through the condemnations coming from nations across Taijitu. He snorted, picking up the phone, he arranged for a press conference. Two hours later, he was standing in the press room, surrounded by a throng of reporters screaming questions haphazzardly. He ignored them and proceeded.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, throughout the day, my office has been recieving reports of condemnation from various foreign powers. The attack on San Francisco has been called cowardly, barbaric, basically, everything except what it was. It was an attempt by this nation to force capitulation by the DSA, that the lives of my countrymen may be saved.

It is all too easy for nations across the world to sit in their peaceful, safe nations, and to drop down words from on high, telling us how horrible and evil we are. It is quite another thing to have the very existance of your nation in the balance, seeking to take any measure necessary to ensure that freedom may prosper in your land. What I ordered, the attack on San Francisco, I would do again as many times as it took, to ensure the Confederacy's freedom. I really don't care what anyone else has to say about it. If one Confederate life was saved by this act, it was worth it.

I do however, apologise to any nation who has not raised arms against us, who feels that their nation may have been impacted. However, due to the small size of the device used, the chances of this are minimal. Cleaning up the site will be the sole responsibility of the DSA. Fremont wanted a war, and he got one. Now that they have made their bed, they can damn well sleep in it.

That is all"

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on August 10, 2007, 10:53:51 PM

President Fremont watched in horror as his footage of his home town's nuclear ruins flashed across his television screen.
The anchors were speechless. The president and his staff were speechless. The American people, on both sides of the border were speechless.
San Fransisco was gone, the remains of the DS Navy's western fleet, all stationed in San Fransisco Bay, were gone.

"Mr. President, this just over the wire. The Myrorians have broken through, they've taken Portland. Theriot's pushing the Commonwealth Army into Kentucky. Pershing's marching on Columbia" Secretary of Defence McCormick reported.
"Authorize the launch of nuclear missiles against Charleston and Beaconsfield" Fremont answered, his voice void of all emotion.

"Elliot, stop."
It was Paul Rae, the President's Chief of Staff.
"No more, just end this, make peace. Don't destroy millions more over this. Let the south go."
"I can't"
"You have to! If you don't the Myrorians will have destroyed our west coast, the Inglo-Scotians will drive straight to Philadelphia, and Anderson just might nuke an other city. Drop this now before more people are killed for a dying cause."

Fremont sat back in his chair, the defeat so obvious to everyone else seems impossible to him.
"Sir, Pershing has engaged General Kennedy just outside of Crystal City."
Now the Confederates had pushed their army onto DS soil.
"Call Anderson, tell him I'm ready to talk."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on August 10, 2007, 11:45:25 PM

 Marty McKenzie could tell that Pershing respected General Kennedy, he knew this by the fact that Pershing had never referred to Kennedy as anything worse than a "bastard", a compliment rarely, if ever, used when speaking of Custer. Though being outnumbered nearly 2 to 1 at the wars' outset, the Confederate army was now at a sizeable numerical and equipment advantage over their adversary.

 When news of the nuclear attack had reached the soldiers on the front lines, there was stunned silence. Slowly though, they began remembering the screams of civilians as the yankee soldiers had occupied their homeland, they remembered Fremont's remarks calling their land an embarrasment, the outlawing of their flags, their songs, their literature, and slowly but surely, the silence turned into slow, deliberate, applause. Justice had almost been served.

 And now... now Marty watched as General Frasier Pershing paced methodically in the army's HQ outside of Crystal City. He had argued with President Anderson on the about going to the front lines for the better part of an hour, before reluctantly giving Jack his word that he would stay behind. Even now though, he fumbled his sidearm, as if hoping that the DS army would come bursting through the doors that he may send them to the infernal regions.

 "We're there, boys, less than 25 miles to go, and we've got that cocksucker Fremont where we want him! I want every man and woman fit to shoot a gun out there, we push hard, we push fast, and we're gonna bowl over these sons of bitches. When Kennedy's army is large enough to fit in a phone booth, well go over the bastard and straight to Fremont, and I'll personally shoot that tree hugging son of a bitch!"

 News from the front began to come in, the Yanks were dug in, and even after fierce bombardment, still remained stubborn to the last. Tanks pouring in on the left flank though reported that the DS lines were once again beginning to falter. Whether that would last though was anyone's guess.

 His address to his staff finished, Pershing swore under his breath.

 "Jack, you idiot, you nuked the wrong goddamn city!"

 In the distance, B-52's could be heard, dropping their ordinance on Columbia....

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

 Anderson was still fuming about the shortsighted self righteousness of the international community when the phone rang.

 "Mr President, I have Elliot Fremont on the line."

 Anderson's stomach sank, this was either going to be peace talks, or the announcement of a retalitatory nuclear strike. He prayed it was the former.

 "Patch him through."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Aquatoria on August 12, 2007, 05:45:06 PM

"Just a few more miles and we'll see the Myrorians. Come on lads, let's go meet our brothers." General Brock was speechless when the president told him that a nuke was going to be dropped on San Fransisco. Though the city surrendered, many ships of the DS Pacific Fleet were trying to stop the Canadian advance. Luckily, the Canadian/Confederate army under Brock were able to get out in time. Now the remnants of the western DS Army was being crushed between the might of the Canadians and the Myrorians. Word had come to the General, Deseret was officially free, the Mormons and the Canadian army were able to defeat the Americans there. But now the front was alive with fire. The Canadians could see the Myrorians far in front of them as they tried to destroy the last true army in the west. General Brock got in an APC and took it to the front. A rifle in his hands he got to the front lines. A soldier saw him. "Can't tell how the battle is going if I'm not here to see it." The soldier nodded and followed the General. Brock was leading a volunteer battalion from Toronto. They were pushing against an equally strong DS regiment. Brock fired his rifle and grunted when he saw a man go down. He hid behind a tree and a firefight started. The general led his men well. The Canadian soldiers pushed against the Yankees. "Come on men, we got them on the run." The regiment pushed and pushed, but the Yankees were holding. "Come on, we can break-" A shot rang out and the general felt like he had been punched in the gut. Blood was coming from his uniform and he realized it was his blood. His aides came over and held him as he fell. The regiment was falling back, their morale shot when the general fell. But Brock drew his sword and pointed to the Yankee regiment. "Fight on, brave Toronto volunteers!" and then he went quiet. The regiment pushed on and yelled at once. "For the General!" The Yankees fell back and soon they surrendered.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Myroria on August 13, 2007, 06:48:23 PM

Quote

President Anderson of the Confederate States of Sovereign Dixie,

Though perhaps other means of forcing the DSA to surrender could have been deployed before a nuclear weapon, the Myrorian force had evacuated long before and suffered no collateral damage. For this reason, we have chosen not to cast you away or withdraw aid. It's not our land, it's not our problem. Though I would not readily approve of a pre-emptive or first-choice nuclear attack, this attack seems to have launched the DSA on the track to surrender, from what I could gather. It delayed or - most likely - stopped the deaths of millions. Myroria will also not occupy the states we have captured, for it would be far too hard to convince thousands of red-blooded, democracy-loving Americans to support one.

Meneldur Tar-Ilium, Empeurer of the Myrorian Empeureum,
Imperial Grand Residence,
Pelagis, Myroria.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on August 15, 2007, 05:02:18 PM

Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the Democratic States
My fellow Americans, citizens of the world, I have the solemn duty today, as of 1:02 pm, on August 15, 2007 to call an end to the conflict between the Democratic States of America and the sovereign and independent nations allied with those states in our union engaged in rebellion against our federal government.
As commander-in-chief of the DSA's armed forces, I am hereby ordering the military to cease conflict with those allied against us in a state of war.
This government is ready to negotiate with those who have bested us on the fields, the air, and water of this great land. The DSA is offering a chance at peace. I have spoken with the Jake Anderson, the President of those states united in rebellion, and he has assured me that as long as our forces stand down, his will do the same, so that talks of peace and healing can begin. I ask those independent nations allied against us to follow Mr. Anderson's lead, and call an end to hostilities, so we may move forward to a peaceful resolution to this conflict that maintains the integrity of those involved.
Thank you, and good night. 

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on August 15, 2007, 05:16:55 PM

Television screens across Inglo-Scotia flicked to an image of the coat of arms of the Commonwealth, as a voice-over announced the Commonwealth Broadcasting System had come into effect. The image of the white lion on black was quickly replaced by an image of Stephen Crofts, from the Lord Protector's office in Parliament.

"We are saddened, most definitely, by the lose of life in the nuclear explosion over the American city of San Fransisco. We are saddened by the use of war as any means of settling disputes between two independent and sovereign states. This Commonwealth, however, realizes that force of arms is necessary if diplomacy fails to secure the freedom of a sovereign nation. The people of the Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia grieve that nuclear force was needed to force a tyrannical and hijacked 'republic' to accept the existence of a sovereign and independent Confederacy, but the blindness of the government in Washington left the people of Dixie no choice but to deploy nuclear arms.
This Commonwealth, both its people and its Parliament, are ecstatic to hear that the Fremont administration has finally chosen sense over tyranny, and we, the Commonwealth of Inglo-Scotia, join President Anderson of the Confederate States of Dixie in laying down our arms, so that a permanent peace may be made, one that recognizes the existence and continued survival of the Confederacy.
I invite delegations from the Democratic States of America, the Confederate States of Dixie, the Kingdom of Myroria, and the Canadian-Quebecois Empire to Beaconsfield to work on terms of an everlasting peace.
Long Live the Victorious Revolution."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Sovereign Dixie on August 15, 2007, 05:29:04 PM

 On televisions across the CSSD, President Anderson appeared, looking worn, but relieved.

 "Ladies and Gentlmen, as of 1:00pm eastern time, I have issued an order to all Confederate and Pax Imperium forces calling for an immediate cessation of hostilities against the Democratic States of America. Victory has been decisive, yet costly, on all fronts. Confederate and Allied forces shall remain in their current positions and states of readiness, pending the introduction of a permanent peace. Lord Protector Stephen Crofts has invited all principal nations to Inglo-Scotia to discuss terms of peace, and the Confederacy gladly accepts. Tonight, thanks to the bravery of countless thousands, the Confederacy sleeps safe, and sovereign."

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Myroria on August 15, 2007, 05:33:00 PM

Myroria will send Fredrika Tar-Ilium to discuss peace following the Second War of Secession.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Democratic States of America on August 17, 2007, 04:09:05 PM

The Democratic States of America will send newly appointed Secretary of State Donald Wilson and Vice President Gregory McMahon.

Title: Re: Grey Phoenix
Post by: Prydania on August 18, 2007, 09:41:19 PM

OOC: Peace talks to be found here
http://forum.taijitu.org/treaty-conferencesorganisations/beaconsfield-conference/0/