Liberation of the Occidental

17 minutes had passed before the red lights dimmed on board the Silent Whale. A soft, humming noise was briefly audible as the hydraulics returned to normal pressure. Gently, as the engines provided minimal forward speed, the submarine turned away from the shore. As instructed, it also set course for the ocean floor. Just before diving, however, the buoy was released. Once safely in position, there was one simple command the captain had to give, and she did so gladly: full power ahead!

Without effort the silent electrical engines, powered by a twin nuclear reactor, started to churn the ocean waters and propel the vessel. As it glided through the waters, the design proved itself. Though originally designed to be as silent as possible not to interfere with marine life, the captain was quite happy that it also ment they were unlikely to be detected.

In one of the laboratories, where the researches were sifting though the mass of signals, they found a few leads. Decrypting the militairy code was a no-go, but the datastreams which used the common encryption used by mobile phones. Knowing they'd have no way of continuing scanning when at sufficient depth, they simple recoreded these and also had the idea included in the buoy-transmission. The first few things they decrypted soon enough shocked their minds, leading one scientist to state: that's, like totally, the worst thing one could do for the environment, you know. All the plants that are dying!

-85 Hours into Assault/Occupation of the Occident

Siet Khan (roughly translated means something similiar to 2nd Lt) Dabin climbed up the rungs of the AT-110 Infantry Fighting Vehicle towards it's cupola hatch. The command vehicle for the 7th light armored detachment, serving the House Sargtlin and that of the 8th legionary deployed currently to the sector of 178-D. The vehicle was already loaded with a small compliment of troops and crew as he slid into position behind the sloped gun shield.

He was lanky in build, wisps of blonde hair cropped short against the scalp. Like most Haru he wore a rebreather, but not the goggles so many were accustomed to seeing them in. His uniform was specifically for this sort of enviroment, being a semi-tropical terrain, highly urbanised area. Red, black and light orange splashed together. Throat mic in place covered a rather wicked scar, a badge of honor from close combat nearly a year ago in the Occidental badlands.

Just over the age of twenty-one, he was of the Vek Sargtlin, a commoner-military line that served the greater house. A slight turn about, as wearing the headset that was passed up to him and he raised his right arm. Behind the command IFV, and in front of it, were several dozen Rhidan LMV's, a popular lightly armored recon vehicle that could survive IED's and so forth. Essentially a Haru Humvee in spirit if not appearance and ability. Accompanying were another half dozen AT-110's, about the same S-12 Halftrack armored personnel carriers, and the hardest hitting of his entourage were a pair of Cbetan Light Tanks.

Still waiting to be offloaded were the 8th Detachment of Heavy Armor. This consisted of ten S-94a Jelduno main battle tanks and four S-17 APALV'S. However, the heavy armor detachment was still several hours from being offloaded from the taskforce troopships as well as still having to land in the port. No or never really. Pave the way and all that.

His orders were to provide distraction for ground forces already in the area, to hit the recently shelled firebase of the militia forces nearest his position, and to assess enemy resistance prior to the 8th's advancement with the 12th and 15th mechanized infantry detachments.

He waved his right arm and the engines came to life, reverbrations in the air, followed by diesel fumes. Turning to forward, he lanced his arm out and the lead vehicles being the Rhidan LMV's motored forth, leaving behind the collection of transports and other vehicles that were being offloaded by massive aero-transports on a recently constructed airstrip.

Overhead, a trio of HAD S34 Light Strike Fighters hurtled past, heading beyond the horizon. His own air support was a contingent of helicopter gunships and a pair of S30 Sylrada air to ground suppression fighters that even now buzzed in a wide circle about his position as he had a moment to look upwards into the sky.

As his vehicle bounced alongst the uneven road and the craters from bombs, his convoy passed the walking forms of infantry, as well as other vehicles that were at the moment not moving. Artillery barked in the distance, pounding the militia strong points with salvo after salvo.

The sun had risen high in the sky, mingling with clouds and it all looked very picture-esque, as if a blissful painting. At least for the moment anyways, a few minutes ago there had been streams of fire coupled with plumes of smoke and the sounds of battle. Now it was the eerie silence, the dread wait.

Yosef Hebad was still alive, somehow. He'd been promoted from mere militia sergeant of a small village to that of sub-commander, aid defacto of one General Taifera, and second in command of the remaining UAMF forces of Thalusa, Andwen, Varsis, and the most recently occupied stronghold city of Trivoli. Thirty thousand militia fighters were now being routed towards the former territory of the Cussian's.

Everywhere was the enemy, the vile, despicable enemy. A wave of ebony and halogen blue spilled forth as a sweeping ocean into the lands of the once free territories. Banners of the Haruspex swayed upon the wind from the former UAMF strongholds, the afore cities thus mentioned.

As he rode in the back of a small jeep, Tagmatine in origin, his eyes were upon the scene just a dozen or so kilometers behind them. The landsfall township of Andwen had been the last known civilized gathering of the Free Territories, and it had fallen less then eleven hours ago.

He could make out the pinpricks against the clouds, each dot was a helicopter belonging to the Haru. Larger ones on the ground were probably tanks, and then the swarm, that was the vaunted legions marching into the township, sweeping over it's people as so much a tidal wave.

The radio brought no better news. To the east, the Cussian coastline was seeing activity by the Haru Imperial Navy. HIN had begun offloading troops and armor from ships. The more they rode north, the more they were trapped, but it was a small thing, to be prodded into a corner, of which there was no escape, or so it seemed.

Unbeknownst to the Haru, the last stronghold of the UAMF was within Cussian territory, in the mountains, literally built into the rock, was the fortress-ship of Abal'ukan. The UAMF was heading there now, to recooperate, to hold out and to plan for their counter-offensive. The fortress-ship had room enough in it's vast holdings for a sizable population, and already many refugees had already found their way there.

Twenty-thousand people resided in the fortress, about to have another thirty or so soldiers to make it a defensible position. Perhaps the Haru would leave them alone, maybe they could work out a deal. Yosef listened to the voices around him, the young soldiers talking. He knew it to be folly and spoke. His accent gravelly, of a man who had not slept in days, and of the former vale lands he was of.

" Listen, and listen well my comrades. The maskers will not leave us be, wherever we go. They will come for us, and they will not spare us. " He paused as looking to the faces as they sobered up. " Remember your comrades, trust in your rifle, and kill as many of them as you can. Plenty of time to be safe, when your dead."

From upon high, beyond the grip of the earth's atmosphere, one of several research satellites took another run of photo's as it passed over the area of conflict. The clouds and heavy smoke made it nigh impossible to get a clear picture. All that could really be seen was a trail of destruction.

By Darwin, one of the members of the Ducal Chamber sighed after looking at the images again. What is the point of expanding your borders if you bring such utter destruction? Shouldn't we act?

The Duke of Prondal shouted: we have no reason to choose a side in this fight! If they turn this gaze of destruction upon us we wouldn't stand a chance.
I am wel aware of that, your highness. I am merely expressing my concerns for that region.

We all share those concerns. For now, let us keep our concerns focussed upon the environment and not the people.

As you wish. The next satellite will make another pass in 5 hours. It should be able to get some infrared images.

This post has been edited by Jilderen on Dec 29 2011, 10:11 AM

Slogging through the mud, guts, and blood that stained this fell place made worse by the grinding of two major forces. On the southwest, advances were chewing into the flank of the defender militia forces of the Free Territories. To the immediate north, what was left of Andwen still held out. Under the thooming of heavy artillery, and shrieks of rocket launches. Fires lit the funeral pyres of either side, thick, oily smoke stretching upwards into the heavens above.

Prata-Khan Graer represented the finest and worst of the Elemmiire. While they were more then honorable compared to the dredges of the Haru society, he wasnt one to name names, but oh say the Mzil Velven, of which he thought of as little better then the militia fighters he was excelling at killing this day, he still adhered to the war policies set by the high command and they were ever brutal.

Taking a break to light a cigar, while wearing the samurai esque armor of ebony plate and mesh. Skirt and helm with those light blue illuminated sockets. Said helm lay upon the remains of an apc's wheel. The rest of said apc was scattered about the area. He was pretty sure it had been an anti-air modified Vodnik prior to being exploded by who only knows what.

Ush'akal, udos inbal quarthen ulu karliik trezen [Sir, we have commands to head north].Kenyet Dak spoke up from behind and slightly lower. The communique officer eventually ambled over a pile of brick and mortar, CBAR-01 assault rifle with a 10x scope mounted on it's rails. A slow nod, for beyond this relatively peaceful point lay the city center and the sounds of war.

Crumping explosions and small arms fire that rattled near constant. udos ph' heading doeb. Gruff voice echoing forth as plucking up the assault rifle as tossing cigar aside. Helm lifted and then placed down atop head, booted feet taking the lead, about to join in that skirmish.

About five miles east of Graer's position, Siet-Khan Yars forced the cupola hatch open to breathe fresh air. The building they had been going through had collapsed upon them, trapping them for a time. This act had saved his tank, though most of his lead element had fallen to the viciousness of the ambush by retreating milita forces armed with RPG-V2's.

Fire, orange and bright lit a landscape of shattered armor and smoldering corpses of the hazmat-suited Tagnik Zun elite. Ground pockmarkd by craters, artillery had found them not long after the ambush, even now it still was falling. While the militia forces didnt have much in the way to really slow them down, they had made clever use of the small city, and seemed to have an ample amount of 80-105mm howitzers at their disposal. Perfect for laying down suppressive fire upon an advancing enemy when you were retreating.

Reinforcements had arrived finally, pushing through or over the remains of their fellows. Sliding back down, locking the hatch, the turret swung towards the militia lines and began to hammer back in kind. With proper artillery becoming more cohesive, the ground legions were able to bring their own firepower towards the enemy line.

From behind, the shockwaves of the first 2S9 Bereg's rolled across the area, followed by the explosions as those 130mm shells began to land against enemy territory. Crunching a shattered troop transport that had been at one time under his command, the heavy treaded beast 2S19 MSTA-S, the dreaded 152mm Self Propelled cannon slowly came into view.

A pause and then he felt his insides quiver as the weapon barked harshly. Lighter vehicles, the 2S5-S 152mm self propelled cannon, and the towed artillery 2A36-B's had set up in the nerve center of Andwen's industrial train area. He was wary of his orders to be here, after all, a recon force penetrating into the exterior areas of Andwen defense forces had been killed by an ambush consisting of a vastly numerical superior force as it was retreating.

A cautious tactic of lining his defensive perimeter with SPAA23's guarding, alongst with 288th Olath Orn, however had been committed to act as both forward observers and as a buffer against enemy infantry support. Shells began to rain down upon the enemy line and other areas, to keep the remaining militia defenders from being able to scatter.

There are many places within the sh*thole of the Occidental that Yeyinde Ferin would much rather have been. As it was, he was settled for the moment within the husk of a building. Leaning just within, waiting for the clouds to stop spitting on him from above. Limp cigarette rested between lips as sheets of rain fell towards the pockmarked and or otherwise broken asphalt of the ground. Slight roll of shoulders, readjusting the weight of his gear and what not as taking to a lean for a moment or so.

The HIA GLM-01 hung over the left shoulder, calm during the storm as yet another shift in the mickey mouse sector of the former Free Territories city of Thalusa (Plot 173). Still waiting for this or that to come down the line, this particular area under supervision of the 111st Motorized Rifles Legion. Slow bit of steps taken from the building and into the street, keeping a cautious gaze of light blue against the road and it's surroundings.

Quinn was heading to a new destination, as with all things in a land that had just become occupied. The vehicle she drove was a Haru military standard modified to be an armored civilian transport. Rihdan (Hunter) Light Multirole Vehicle's engine humming beneath the foot padle, she literally zoomed down the road. Not much going on mentally save for keeping one hand on the wheel and the other on the stick, one foot for the clutch and the other for the gas.

Getting out to make 'house calls' hadn't been her idea of a great time, but it was better than wandering the same halls of the hospital where only last night she'd seen her first killing. Sitting ill with the good doctor, she found the scenery just a tad on the rough side, and the road was iffy in parts but at least it was there. If she ever found where she was going, she'd be able to see about getting into the clinic to make the rounds there for those who lived out the fringe and didn't have access to the burgeoning healtcare system.

Now just how many people lived out here, Quinn didn't know, and if it was anything like 'The Hills Have Eyes,' then she didn't really want to know. As the armored truck pulled slowly into the remains of the shanty town, she brought it to a stop and rested her head briefly on the steering wheel. "What are you doing here?" More for herself than anything, it was her own sort of 'pep-talk' but she didn't look at that peppy.

This was the remains of the great bandit city of Thalusa. Everything that couldnt be found there, it was here, or had been at least before the liberation of this land had commenced. Intermixed about the remains of this former lively city, the paratroops and mechanized infantry forces in the blue-gray camouflage and blue berets or helmets. Otherwise known as Haruspex Legionnary.

There were a few away from where Ferin stood, more or less to the east of the main crowded area, and the start of the broken road towards the edge of the shanty district. Along this path would be less of the stalls and more of the sullen looking soldiers, trudging to posts or clambering into or out of urban combat camoflauge painted armored vehicles, trucks etc.

Most though, like the residents of this area, knew better then to stand in the road. Anything with wheels or treads rolled near constant down this Hell's highway. A light tapping on the hood of the car, gentle like. Near the parked and obviously out of place car had come the ol' Sergeant. Not that he was old, he was a pup thrust into the harsh land of service. Twenty-Three but with years on the soul. Ma'am, you alright?

Her head snapped up, and those eyes of deep brown wound wildly around until they zeroed in on the legionnaire outside her truck window. For a moment her face crumpled, whether from relief or embarassment it was hard to say as she lowered the window and poked her head out. Having the ability to remember where she was might have been a minor miracle, and a brief rush of one hand through auburn hair just set it further into disarray.

Yeah. Um, where am I? Obviously, from the voice as smooth as two fingers of fine whiskey she was educated, but the drawl there was all small-town. Sticking her head back in the car, she seemed to rummage before pulling out a sealed badge complete with picture id. I'm from the 1128th field hospital, I have orders to be posted at the 1129th post? Is the post here? Clearly from the crumple between her brows she was not only lost, but a little on the agitated side.

He unfolded a map and studied it for a moment before nodding to himself for a moment. Your a ways of Doctor. We've just a MASH unit to the left some through the buildings there. Indicating the alleyway about twenty meters away, in which a partially destroyed building had a tarp roof strung over it and down it's sides where it must have been exposed. Bright red cross painted on it's roof, and walls. A pair of Rihdan's next to that. If'n you like, I can direct you over, get some coffee, calm ya down some. This aint the greatest of places, but the law is present. Folding the map up once again and placing it in left chest pocket.

While she listened, there was a certain amount of apprehension on her part. Surely she had come the right way? The GPS on this damn thing had been followed to a 'T' and now she was potentially lost? Why hadn't anyone told her that they were sending her into no-man's land? Long, slender fingers massaged the crease from between her brows, and she gathered up the makings of a small smile to give to the legionnaire. Thank you, sir. I think I'm in the right place.

However bleak it might seem, there had to be need for a doctor, otherwise why would they send her out here?! From one battle zone to the next, Quinn supposed as she gave a little sigh.Where can I park my vehicle?

Straight through the alley. One sec, I'll have one of the trucks moved. <com>Alpha 4, have a doc comin', need truck two moved, over. Bit of a garish screech on the radio mic that was upon right shoulder, and then he spoke a reply. Another soldier came out of the tent, looked over, waved and then got into the Rihdan. Diesel engine roared to life and then vehicle ambled off somewhere else. A glance over as he had begun to pick his way towards the alleyway, waving his hand towards the doc. This way Ma'am. Park where the truck was.

Careful of the legionnaire on foot, she eased the medical Rihdan into the now vacant position with a small prayer of thanks. At least it would be somewhat protected. Seeing that her thoughts were bordering on too many negative aspects, she forced the breath from her lungs and mentally chided herself to think of this as an adventure! When the door swung open and she popped up out of the truck it was clear as to why she'd chosen the vehicle.

She was diminutive in stature, little bigger than a willow wisp with a gypsy's mane of auburn hair. She looked as if she couldn't have been more than sixteen, but most knew better. Looks weren't important, not when you were elbow deep in someone's intestines. Locking the truck down with a touch of a button, she pocketed the keys into the white lab coat she wore, and motioned with her black bag as to 'what next?'. Lead on, sir. At least she didn't have to worry about her footing, given she'd worn a solid set of standard issue boots.

One last look about the streets before heading up the alleyway towards the doc and then a nod of head to the woman, slinging his rifle once more, barrel towards the sky as right hand brished back the tarp entrance leading inwards and holding it open for the woman. He spoke as he did so. We're low on some stuff out here. Some of my unit were hit by a roadside bomb a few days ago, and some others injured in a grenade attack further south.

Steps taken would lead them both into the sort of lobby area, a few tables and chairs and what not. Beyond, and looming like a pair of double doors of heavy plastic and rubber. Within would be an after surgery area of twelve beds, of which nine were filled. Missing legs, hands, some burn victims. Ferin stood by the doors window, looking in before a shake of head and looked to the doctor. Moseyed on over to the coffee pot and poured a bit of the wake you up from the dead black coffee into the foam cup. Leaning over to offer towards the other. There ya are.

Black bag in hand, she followed with a nod of her head as she stepped past the form of Ferin with a murmur of that mellow voice. I'll see about having supplies sent out, I have some in the trunk ...Everything went quiet while she lingered closer to the double doors, looking through with eyes that seemed too large for her face. Although her lips were pursed briefly to a thin line, it lasted only a second before her features dissolved to a serene mask. It was all part and parcel to being a physician, and she well knew it. I'll go over each chart tonight, and if there are others, have them come in. Something seemed to settle on those slight shoulders, but she was shoring them up.

Setting aside the black bag on one of the tables, she took the offered foam cup and drank straight from it. No sweetner or cream for this doc, she took it as it came straight from the pot. How long ago was it? The road side bombing? The more information she had, the better.

Two days ago. Leftover militia, or disaffected citizenry of the area. Who knows who did it, but they got us good. Two died immediate, one more enroute. Shattered the H14 5-Ton Cargo Truck they were in. Spoke as pouring himself a coffee of his own, and then settling down into one of the metal chairs. 111st Legion had been hit the hardest of any, slow sip taken and then bowed head a bit, setting the cup aside so both hands could run through short hair.

Each sip brought a 'zing' of caffeine into her bloodstream, smoothing out the jagged edges that a lack of sleep could give a body. Her throat hummed as she finished with the coffee, but it was only half gone. No, Quinn's mind was already on the soldiers. I am sorry you had to endure such an undertaking. I'll get started. It was easy to put on a brave face, when one was faced with other brave faces. She wasn't a rough and tumble field medic, so perhaps that helped, or the calm of her voice, the cool steady hands. Before she got started, she gave a bolstering smile to the legionnaire. Thank you, ah ... Yeyinde Ferin. I'll be out in a minute to get the supplies from my vehicle. I just want to poke around a bit.

Siet Khan Dabin and his convoy had made it to the 78th's outpost. His forces had dismounted and were about the main area. The outpost here was effectively set up as a collection of helicopter landing pads, a few trenches and dug in forifications further down on the slop of a hill facing the wastelands and others facing in a square pattern the rest of the area.

Key points had watchtowers, sand bagged positions and swanson huts bunkered in as both observation points, barracks and what not. A fourth and larger hut was nearly buried to the roof in the ground and sand bags and this was the partially buried MASH hut adjacent to a protected observation area and a single K1-b heavy machine gun station.

The odd assortment of his convoy was arranged about and behind the main line, even now the light tanks were being used as self-propelled artillery to shell a distant defensive perimeter full of militia forces. There were many such positions all over the mountainous terrain of the former Cussian territory.

He peered through the telescopic field sights of his command vehicle, noting coordinates for the airstrikes his radio operator was even now confirming with. Overhead, streaking contrails provided by HAD S30 Sylrada ground assault aerofighters could be seen as they came in low against the deck and were intent on forcing their way into the thick of things.

Stattaco of anti-aerocraft fire was near immediate, tracers of orange saluting the clouds alongst with bright puffs of a deeper red, and or black bursting clouds. One of the ground fighters shook itself apart as he watched, the debris striking the ground with furious impact, flames and smoke littering the ground.

Determined to avenge their fallen comrade, the remaining two expended their deadly arsenal of bunker busters, dumb fire rocket pods and more, turning the defensive line into a bright burning wall of death and imploding hilltops.

With range given by the retreating aerocraft, the light tanks on the outpost line were now hammering whatever might have survived that with thermite canister shells, designed to inflict massive damage upon infantry and light armor. A few secondaries brewed up and that was the cue.

As his command vehicle began to roll forward, infantry fighting vehicles, armored personnel carriers, and the tanks under his command fell in line, a sort of phalax position with his vehicle at the center, pushing for the now pulverized enemy position.

Lowlands (Vocenea's last known operative position)

Yeyinde Fras sat within the cupola of the half track recon vehicle, field optics raised to eyes so that she could see the expanse of the lowlands and the remaining villages and so forth that lay unmolested for the moment. A slight glance back, and then wave of arm forward, pointing in direction of the semi-industrial district.

Several dozen or so half-tracks, accompanying a company of heavier armored vehicles, being mostly tanks and armored aero-defense vehicles, clattered and rumbled towards the area pointed to. Following along behind in rank and file, more then two thousand Haru legionnaires of the Mzil Velven house, outffited in urban combat gear for the fight ahead.

Despite being outmatched at every turn, militia fought tooth and nail for every square centimeter of their territory, with almost the same result panning out across the badlands. Failure. The Haru war machine refused to be sated with just a few deaths, the carnal lust of the imperium demanded sacrifices of larger size and thus it was devouring all that it could reach.

Even it's erstwhile allies would notice the presence of Haru military forces showing up at what could only be termed borderlines of territory cut from the heart of the Occidental region. A great DMZ was to be the founding works of the imperium, to mark it's presence fully, and to let all know of the dragons awakening.

High Command Headquarters
Occupied Territories of the Occidental
(plot 171)

Grief stricken and pallid, that could very well be the very best way to describe Varia's demeanor. Word of Fleetlord Yavars resignation wasn't something that she particularly expected, but despite the emotions that plagued her, she found light even in the dark. Her husband, such a great man, was now the Imperium's most trusted military leader, sworn to the Emperor as both officer and blood brother.

A leader she had no problem swearing her allegiance to and she'd done so gladly. She wore the colors of the Elghinn Lac'nalan, stripes and bars apparent to distinguish her rank amongst the others, as well as her cap - which was drawn slightly over her eyes to hide her sadness of losing her friend Kaja. Tyng would do some well to cheer her up, her feelings and emotions a tad off as of late.

Standing near the spartan steel desk shined to an absolute finish so as to act as a mirrored surface, afore mentioned husband Tyng was before a true mirror adjusting the pins of rank and so forth and getting comfortable in the uniform that came with it. Gloved hands delicately smoothed down tunic towards waist and said hands clasped each other behind back. Ever the perfectionist when he could be, it was only proper to be formal and as ever a representative of that which he loved, second only to his first beloved, Varia.

Head tipped back to bring her gaze towards Tyng and a small pursed smile was soon directed at him. Vendul, love. The formal greeting of a simple hello in high born Haru (Haru-Deket) was the first thing she'd offer before going to him and taking claim of him in a hug, bosom to bosom. She peered up into the visage of the man who stood before her and with a ginger care, placed a kiss against his lips. Fleetlord Cuim. The words were murmured, soft and light. A hint of her happiness for him and non other was shown through with the light of her eyes. She nuzzled his chest gently whilst face turned to meet said perch. My many congratulations to you.

Bit of a smirk against lips, perhaps even wry like for a moment as if he seemed to have adopted the mannerisms of his late lord and like many a feudal society, Tyng felt a pain of loss, as if he were now a Ronin, that perhaps he should have committed sepiku or some such. You know, I had not thought this possible, at most I hoped for a Barony. Return of the kiss, gentle as it may have been and set of gloved hands to her hips, lightly teasing for a time. She did after all look good in the uniform, yes indeed. I will miss my friend and comrade Kaja, but his dream shall continue. Eyes of ebony to the future and all.

It is only inevitable that one great man should pass his right to another when the time comes. You are more than fitting for the position and am honored to serve you. A slight murr of sorts with the hands that teased her and a smile as eyes closed. She thought for a time and then sighed, opening her eyes again to bring her face up and to peer up into the face of the other. I will miss him as well, but mourning the loss of a once great officer will only set us back. She let a full fledged smile pull at her lips and stepped back to take claim of one of his hands, cupping it lovingly. I have more news for you, Tyng.

The sparkle in those eyes failed to express the sheer happiness she felt. The glow around her spoke more than words could ever and she placed his hand against her abdomen. You're to be a father. Her eyes had settled on his hand while she placed it and then looked to his eyes after revealing her secret.

This was indeed great news, although it would slowly put them into the eyes of other House members and undoubtedly those of her own line. Bonding two houses was often called the ending of blood, but it didn't matter to him. He'd lived so far a rather humble life. It was time for change as he saw it, right glove removed and palm pressed against belly, she couldn't have been maybe more then a month maybe two, but it was a gesture that counted more towards anything. It will be the beginning of a dynasty, a new age for the old world.

Never before had she heard of a Zun, such as he, and a Mzil Velven, such as she, coming together in unity - let alone bringing life into the world. She didn't care if her house patriarch looked down on her for it, it wasn't like she committed a sin amongst her sisters by taking a man of a different line as a mate. She beamed up at him, relieved for the most part that he didn't disapprove. A beginning I am anticipating with great honor. She leaned into the hand and gave a warm chuff.

Zun and Mzil Velven, it was new to him. He knew of some that had done such, after all that is how houses like Renor Elemmiire, and Vlos Zun had been born. Tyng had always been loyal to the court and his dynasty would as well. Well, loyal without bending backwards, he didn't align himself to them more then he had to. A glance towards her once more, lightly stroking back of head and the hair there as she chuffed, drawing closer into an intimate embrace of closeness.

Eyes closed once more to the affection 'pawing' at the base of her crown and a smile further when he drew her in. I know with this comes great danger. You need me still to do your will in the Alliance when you can not. I will remain active for the most part, but will avoid any and all confrontation. God forbid she be engaged in battle and the rage of her gift consume her to protect the child within her. It could either pose lethal for the opposing party or worse yet, she and the babe. She crooned and nuzzled into him, breathing in his scent and letting the aroma of his person intoxicate her. Another murmur, this time soft words of adoring nature.

His Majesty, the Emperor has intrusted me with the operation and usage of ICON.From orbit, the Haru communications satellite ICON hovered in gyro-stationary orbit. At over fifty tonnes, the monstrosity was a beacon of traffic and a hive of civilian and military network traffic with the usual over-zealous security precautions. It's four solar panels extended, and it's hundred eyes were pouring across the Occidental from nation to nation, to battlefield.

ICON also had a more sinister task, should the Haru be pushed. ICON housed four smaller satellites that could be ejected, and that operated as enemy satellite killers using high density lasers to burn out a targeted array.

For the moment, this task wasn't being utilized, as no nation currently presented itself as an obstacle. At the moment, ICON shared space with other observers, all intent on watching the ground below. A current focus at the moment was upon the wave of aerocraft from staging bases, heading into the mountains.

There were large swathes of territory, that were being shielded against orbital observation. Utilizing jamming technologies originating from ICON, when in proximity to other satellites. The end result would be static and or fuzzy imagery where it should have been clearly seen. In these areas, the Haru re-education camps were operating, and beside them, the waste disposal ones as well. For every citizen of the badlands that surrendered, dozens more were being cremated, to make room for the population expansion at hand.

Thus you have been asked to take the role of General of the Elghinn, and acting as the provisional head of this territory, overseeing the process of population integration. I believe a few others will be promoted as well, as the inevitable result of an ascension is the loss of chaff to the wind. Our military actions may suffer a bit, but we shall return stronger then before and with the will to challenge the heretic forces of nature that is the remaining militia and brigands that once populated these lands. What do you think my love, does such sound solid? Looking to her council as much as any other, save that she had a bit more weight in the advice category then most.

She mulled over his words for a time, jaw stern and set while she had done so. She didn't put too much thought into her offered title, not with the opportunity to help her mate with a decision that could either make or break the Alliance. She looked up at him and studied his face, still in silent contemplation. I will accept, but do not let our relationship be the determining factor. I only wish to serve as such if you deem me worthy of it.

Of course you are, who lived through the trials to claim by right, the hand and my blood as hers? We shall pursue the order of our Emperor upon these lands, they shall be burned away so that a new future shall be born.

Today the Emperor speaks, charming the billions of citizenry and setting the tone for the world at large. Hello again people of the Imperium, I am Ga'rel of CHNM, and here tonight is live coverage of his majesty the Emperor Sa'Karn, delivering a speech to welcome in the annexation of the midlands.

The cameras cut away to a rather large man standing at a podium, bathed in lights of blue, while flags of red and black hang on either side. Rows of ebony armor as far as the eye can see, thousands of soldiers goose stepping past, boots making perfect reverberations uponst the roadway.

The others of our fair land Europa bid us to no roll over their ancestors, in a desperate plea to I, the founder of our glorious imperium. While they spend their time in nothingness, we the Haru have conquered the heart of this land, as far as the eye can see, we are present.

The midlands ask for mercy, for we Haru to spare them the indignities of death at our hands. And yet as they plead, they fight us. Is it not, therefore, shameful that a people conquered, a people ignorant of our war, a people even without arrows, should proceed in order of battle against you, my brave warriors?

Raise your standards, my brave warriors of the Haru faith, and set neither measure nor limit to your merited rage. May the lightning of your glory be seen and the thunders of your onset heard from east to west, and be ye the avengers of our noble blood.