Saint Helene

The clacking heels of his shiny black boots echo throughout the long hallway. The man passes the guards, and walks through the doorway to Wilhelm's study.

As the man enters the study, he is met by the potent scent of tobacco smoke. He walks over to the desk where Wilhelm reads a book,

“I have an urgent message for you, your majesty.”

Wilhelm closes the book and looks up at the man,

“Go ahead.”

The man, with a tone of unease in his voice, continues,

“The High Command wishes to notify you of a developing situation in Verusa. It regards our surveillance operation following the Northern Incident.

The bomber contingent we sent as a deterrent has been intercepted by an unidentified aircraft. No radar-bearing aircraft were within range of the bombers when I received this message. However, a fighter squadron off ENS Victory had successfully been launched and moved at full speed for intercept of the unidentified aircraft.

So far, the situation is deemed to be of minimal risk. However, it may escalate.”

Wilhelm leans his elbow against the desk, deeply contemplating the situation. Finally, he speaks, almost second-guessing every word as he carefully chooses what he says,

“Request that they return the remains of the downed jet, and allow us to aid them in locating the remains of Lieutenant Werner.

I want the 3rd Battle Fleet ready to sail for the waters outside Canineia. Have the entire 1st Battle Fleet go into emergency wartime readiness, but don't make a public statement about it. Make sure that if something happens, we have every asset of the 1st and 3rd fleets ready to hit Canineia. I also want the entire strategic air command ready to launch bombers and escort fighters, as well as all national defenses on 1-hour activation readiness. I'm not gonna take chances here, update me every 10 minutes, or when urgent.”

“Yes, sir,” the man walks out of Wilhelm's study, closing the doors behind him.

ENS Fortress, 1st Battle Fleet, Northern Tsyemny Sea, Verusa

Rear Admiral Ivan Donovan stands on the bridge of his dreadnought. He watches as helicopters take off from the ENS Victory, a mere mile away from his own ship.

His ship is not just any ship, the Emnarian dreadnought, ENS Fortress, is the flagship of its class. Its keel was laid in 1967, and it was commissioned in 1971. Built during the age of atomics, the Navy was obsessed with the unlimited range of nuclear powered ships. It was also the first ship to be mounted with CIWS systems in the Emnarian Navy (in 1989)

As the ship aged, it was retrofitted with even better equipment. SAM missiles were mounted in quad launchers across the superstructure, and the 17 inch guns of the ship were given improved electro-mechanical computer rangefinders, paired with radar. However, the most important change was the addition of 2 helicopters, of the UHM-58 model, and new artillery shells. These new shells are rocket-boosted, giving them a much increased range compared to traditional cordite-only shells. After the 1989 retrofit, the ship became the standard for fleet bombardment platforms in the Emnarian Navy.

The ship completed 13 combat patrols between 1971 and 2004. It has 48 confirmed vehicle kills, 2 ships sunk, and destroyed 11 artillery batteries. With its combat record, and potent armament, it’s become the pride of the Imperial Navy.

Yet, what may be even deadlier, is its commander. Donovan was born in 1979 in Kashimyra. His family was forced to log timber in the far north of Kashimyra. However, they weren't paid any money, instead, the Communist government paid them in food. But, after the mass agricultural fires of 1983, they only had enough food for a small meal once a day.

The Donovan family lost 4 of their 5 children. Ivan was the only survivor. When he turned 16 he enlisted in the Kashimyran Republican Navy to try and get some actual money. However, the food was still subpar. Being fed 2 potatoes and 3 ounces of sausage a day, he was almost starving.

However, by the age of 19, he had become captain of an aging light cruiser. On his first combat patrol, he encountered the Emnarian missile cruiser ENS Interceptor. At 3:18 A.M., the Interceptor, using its radar, located Donovan’s light cruiser, KRNS Kryenna. The Kryenna, under orders from Donovan, made a suicide run perpendicular to the ENS Interceptor. The 140mm bow and stern guns of the Interceptor opened fire. After 18 rounds, 2 hit the starboard side of the wheelhouse, killing 3 officers and 2 sailors on the Kryenna. Ivan Donovan waited until he was within 1 mile of the ENS Interceptor. Turning his cruiser hard to portside, he ordered that the deck torpedo launcher on the starboard side launch all 4 of its torpedoes. However, as the ship turned away, a 140mm shell from ENS Interceptor ripped through the engine room. The number 1 main and number 4 auxiliary engines were destroyed. The KRNS Kryenna limped away from it's target, still being bombarded by 140mm shell fire. Suddenly, 2 explosions rocked the Interceptor. Although 4 had been launched, 2 of the torpedoes were duds. The Interceptor began to list to port side, eventually listing as far as 28 degrees.

In 40 minutes, the ENS Interceptor sank, taking 48 sailors with it, and 1 officer. The survivors, except for 3, were taken on by the KRNS Kryenna. Donovan was awarded the People's Courage Medal by the Kashimyran Navy, only 3 of its kind. The KRNS Kryenna, under command of a different captain, was sunk in a large-scale engagement later that year.

In November of 2003, Donovan, spurred on by poor rationing and other effects from Emnarian bombing and blockading, defected to Emnaria. He was sentenced to 10 years in prison.

After the successful invasion of Kashimyra in 2004, Donovan was reclassified as a civilian prisoner of Emnaria, giving him citizenship. In June of 2014, he was officially released from prison, and allowed to enter a normal civilian life. However, he opted to go his own route, and joined the Imperial Emnarian Navy.

After a 3 month long review of his previous military career, he was given the position of Lieutenant Captain aboard an Emnarian destroyer, ENS Defender. Over the course of the next 7 years, his tactical prowess would prove itself in both training exercises, and maritime incidents. He eventually got promoted up to a Rear Admiral in September of 2021.

He had demonstrated in every way possible in a peacetime scenario, that he was one of the best commanders in the Navy. Paired with his demonstration of bravery and courage on his first of two combat patrols, the Navy came to favor the once troublesome enemy. He was put in command of the ENS Fortress in February of 2022.

Donovan has become one of the most skilled commanders in the Imperial Navy, and is the only commander to have a medal from a now defunct country.

His assignment to the 1st Battle Fleet has only served to strengthen its presence in the Tsyemny Sea. However, as he will soon be informed, he may add a third combat patrol to his record…

ENS Fortress’s Stern Deck, 1st Battle Fleet, Northern Tsyemny Sea, Verusa

The high pitched whining of jet-turbines muffles all conversation. The only way the sailors can communicate is through hand signals, or if they are lucky enough to have a radio.

As the pair of UHM-58 helicopters spool up their rotors, Rear Admiral Donovan makes his way towards the helicopter parked on the starboard side.

He climbs into the open side door of the helicopter, shaking hands with the pilot and co-pilot. Putting on a headset, he talks over the helicopter's internal radio. In his thick Kashimyran accent (slavic) he says to the pilots,

“It is good to see you again my friends!”

The co-pilot leans over in his seat to look back at Donovan,

“You as well. We're takin’ you to the Victory today, right?”

Donovan grins,

“Yes, yes. I have a meeting with the Admiral today.”

The co-pilot turns to look forward again, talking to the pilot as he works to prepare the helicopter for flight.

After 5 minutes of waiting, the helicopter finally lifts off, the second UHM-58 on the battleship following close behind.

As the helicopters touch down on the flight deck of the ENS Victory, the crew on the flight deck rush to secure the Rear Admiral.

War Room, ENS Victory, 1st Battle Fleet, Northern Tsyemny Sea, Verusa

Donovan walks into the dark octagonal shaped room. Admiral West and Emperor Wilhelm stand around a circular table, a map of the fleet and the entire Verusan theater surrounding it.

Wilhelm greets Donovan,

“Good. You've joined us.”

Donovan leans against the map table,

“So what the situation?”

Admiral West, not wasting a second, responds,

“The Canineians aren't backing down-”

Wilhelm interrupts the Admiral,

“I’ve ordered the military to be on standby for EWR. The Canineians haven't seemed to deploy any naval forces, but our bombers are reporting a light aircraft tailing them. Since you're a naval commander, I don't expect you to know, but they don't have radars onboard, they are far too old. So, we have a fighter squadron moving to intercept the aircraft. I believe they should engage in the next minute. We have a radio so you can hear their transmissions.”

The group listens intently, waiting for a radio transmission from the squadron…

12th Carrier Fighter Squadron, Northern Tsyemny Sea, Verusa

The squadron of 8 fighter jets fly in a tight arrowhead formation, high in the sky above the water.

As they fly on, squadron leader Captain Nathan Stevens and his RIO William McKearny keep a sharp eye on the horizon. Suddenly, RIO McKearny’s radar track alert begins to sound off. He looks down at his radar screen to see 5 white circles against a green background.

He radios to the rest of his squadron,

“Reaper Actual to Reaper Squadron. I have radar lock on our bombers. Announce when you have visual on unidentified aircraft. Set radar frequency scan range 7500-1450 MHz, azimuth scan range 24-68 degrees. We got 5 big bombers out there, watch your jet wash. Over.”

Simultaneously, the fighter jets of the squadron shut off their afterburners and spread their wings. Taking their own paths to surround the bomber squadron is a defensive circle of sorts. As they gather around the bombers, they slow down to match their speed.

Captain Stevens radios to the bomber squadron,

“This is Reaper Squadron Actual to Grim Reaper Squadron. The cavalry is here. Over.”

...

The government of the Emnarian Empire demands the following from the government of Canineia:

• The return of all debris and persons recovered from the recent wreck from ENS Victory.

• The full cooperation with the Emnarian Navy in search and rescue to locate the co-pilot.

• All logbooks, manuals, and other informational booklets/papers found inside of the aircraft, to be returned to the Imperial Navy.

• All debris, equipment, machinery, and other parts of the downed aircraft to be returned to the Imperial Navy, including the aircraft itself.

• Any and all aircraft to maintain a distance of 15 miles from Emnarian patrolling aircraft.

Emnaria is willing to do the following if terms are agreed to:

• not fly, sail, or drive any vehicles inside Canineian territorial waters.

• invest a 30 million dollar sum into the Canineian economy (as a sign of cordiality).

• Remove any and all spycraft from Canineian airspace.

• Remove the EWR status from the military

The Leopard lurches onwards towards the Lion’s Den.

462 miles of steep mountain terrain, charted through by a few structurally sound and large enough roads to support the Khudlaa-Khan’s forces on their march towards the capital. Great peaks crowd the road on both sides, with slopes sometimes at full verticals or overhanging along the entire paved road up the slopes of the West Chubvlai’s, through the Burkaguutsval gap, and onto the East Chubvlai’s, where they would gradually descend down the slopes and upon Chan’Kogalnikeau.

Through the first night, Costin’s forces made great progress under the shadow of darkness. Filled with reverence, a growing fire in their chest, and fanned by the final show of Costin to his superiors and those now under his command in preparation for his waiting ascension- the world seemed clear, absolute, and ready for the oncoming change as they hastily crowded into troop transports. Commanding the column, Costin and a few other key strategists and supporters drew up their tactical approach towards the capital as the time to act would draw near faster than they knew they needed. There was no time to slow in their approach, nor in their planning.

The shadows of transport trucks flashed across the stone cliff faces from illuminated road-lights bringing light to the road, while shadowing the great depths below and heights above in another veil of darkness and un-scalability. With its difficult terrain, they fought and clawed their way up and down the winding highway, crowded side by side as they pitched down the two-lane road, far more fit for civilian cars than military vehicles. In a few hours they had made only some 120-miles under gravity’s torrent and the chugging of their engines

Frustrated, and knowing time and the element of surprise was quickly fading with the shock that was surely being induced by the death of the Vu’duce and the appearance of a nondescript military convoy heading towards the capital, Costin slowly grew frustrated and impatient, yet kept a steady appearance before his comrades, and continued steadfast in his planning.

Still tuned into the strategic command channels of the Utocistite military, they continued under a perceived quiet through the dead of night. The sky was darker than usual, with the stars shining brighter than before. Fate, in Costin’s mind, was lining the way to Chan’Kogalnikeau. But as fate would have it, they could only get so far until the convoy was found out.

…

Dear brother,

I write to you in recognition of our history, and the history that stands before us.

I ask of you to forgive me, and my inexperience. I know that father’s passing and that of the dynasty will not bode well in your heart and in your mind. And the many flurries that have defined our times together will once again fall upon you.

We have both struggled, and will know struggle in times to come. We are two different men, how we have been raised and our experiences- but I wish to shed this difference. I don’t wish to feud with you or contend you and your ideas, but offer you an opportunity. Just as father had, The halls of Utociste-Zeme are yours as they are mine. There is indefinite possibility for you in our people’s realm, and places for you to make and install change within our government.

If a place of governance is unappetizing, I will fully support your endeavors in the military and onward. Your titles and rank are yours, and in-fact earned, rightfully and dutifully. There is no doubt about that. You have proved yourself over and over, and are too valuable of a brother and soldier to forget amidst the flurry of my new occupation.

I have nothing for you but…

Costin lifts his pen from the white paper, and lets his thoughts wander as he gazes out the window over the deadened city, with nothing astroke but yet the city lights remain lit, void of any activity, lighting the canvas of the city, with its native white walls, square structure, and hidden legacy. He thinks onward and about his letter, in somber reflection and pre-thought as to how to guide his brother back into the fray. He fades between thoughts about his brother and the city before him. It is dark- in fact, it's the dead of the night, and the capital lulls.

A day of death and a day of mourning had passed, in which the nation mourned but the Ketchenak Khan could not, for the state had to be tended too, and have the reality of its wounds revealed to its own inner workings. The heavy air of death, and the uncertainty of the country's future loomed heavy wherever the Ketchenak Khan wandered, even within his own ranks- followed closely by advisors, friends, and mourners who haunted him throughout the day. The Chan’s Palace was a hive who had lost its queen, or aptly, king, bee.

Now, Costin presented himself in valor and aptitude in any way possible as he tended to the swarm. He knew that while his crown and color displayed the prestige of a proper Khan, he needed to win and confirm his affiliations lest be rejected by those that controlled the Vu’duceship behind the scenes- for as powerful as the Vu’duceship was, it was only the head of a great body that controlled the many quarters and corners of Utociste-Zeme. An entire day of crafting resoluteness in the face of grief, and intelligence and courage in spite of zealousness. Dialogue over the future of the nation’s society, military, and state to determine if the young but trained Ketchenak Khan had the early hallmarks of a future, apt, Vu’duce.

In a dress mixed of a military stature and of the traditional black Utocistite mourning-garb, the Ketchenak Khan spent an entire day confined by the chalk and clay walls of the Chan’s Palace, seeing the progression of time through the windows of busy hallways. In his time during the first day, he realized the new respect he commanded, and felt more confident in his ability as the day progressed. But as the day ended, and the halls of the palace fell empty, he was once again reminded of his circumstances. The grief, everpresent, and the anxiety, rampant.

Hoping to find friendship and shed the sibling rivalry with his brother, and find some solace in himself in his own words, he wrote eagerly. But was now left unsure as he fought with himself to describe his relationship with his young brother. Although similar in many ways, an entirely different upbringing and life path differentiated them atop with physical characteristics. He felt like sometimes he had loved him only for that he was his brother, but maybe that was proof enough. Now he aimed to give him security in the face of uncertainty, or so he thought.

Still in a distracted trance, looking towards the city lights and trying to drum up the right synonym to describe his attachment, the rumble of boots was heard down the hallway. It grabbed his attention immediately, as the housekeeper's soft steps sounded nothing like it, and it remained far-too-early into the morning. He shifted his eyes towards his study door as he felt and heard them get nearer and nearer before finally they were at his door.

The door was knocked upon and opened, to the familiar sight of several military officials. Costin’s heart had already started to pound, but now a shiver was sent through his spine. If they weren’t there for him personally, there was still sure to be bad news. They saluted him as they entered in,

“What is it?!” Costin demanded, anxious towards whatever would happen next.

The generals exchanged a few brief looks to the horror of Costin before the eldest of the soldiers spoke. “There have been reports and a confirmed sighting from the military detachment in Anarba of an unannounced military column towards the capital.”

Costin frowned, and needed a moment to process the information, a moment not afforded. The general continued, “A similar report was later given by a lower ranking officer in Lahovnbagüi, which has gotten increasingly silent since yesterday…” The general looked upon the Ketchenak Khan, “They are saying your brother is leading the column towards the capital. It’s an insurgency, sir.”

Any emotion Costin showed on his face dropped, as he became pale and his eyes distant. A million thoughts rushed through his head. His father’s death, his older sister bolting, and now his brother’s betrayal in spite of any relation and common pain. His family now left him one by one. His heart thumped, and his brain told him to act, lest be seen as weak before the same generals who command respect in the branch divided by mutiny. He stood wearily from his chair, his arms slightly buckling under the weight of his situation. He looked at the generals, and them, at him.

“Wake the forces of the capital and surrounding cities, build strategic planning outside the city and higher into the Chubvlai’s. We want as little possible civilian casualties if it comes to that. Try and get a line to the convoy, and if it's true,,, I shall talk to my brother myself.” The Ketchenak Khan said. The general’s faces seemed somber, and with nods of acknowledgement, they exited the room towards the military corridors of the Chan’s palaces’ basement.

Costin, left on his own, fell back into his chair in expiration. Sadness, tiredness, and anxiety fell upon him. And once again he looked out the windows of his study towards the lights of Chan’Kogalnikeau. He was at his own mercy. Seconds later, he sat up scarily fast, and ripped up the letter in front of him, crumpling up its scraps and throwing them off his desk in frustration and betrayal. Pens and other folders sent flying, the yet-proven Vu’duce sat back and took deep breaths to calm himself.

…

Chaos had yet to fall over Chan’Kogalnikeau.

…

Florin’s finger traces a line on a map, shadowed on both sides by changing colors distinguishing sharply changing elevations, divided by a yellow and blue line parallel to each other- the Uruudaj’baina River and the highway carved into its valley crest. They had just rounded south around Anarba and were making decent headway down the eastern slopes of the Chubvlai’s. Two hundred and fifty miles separate them from the Chan’s Palace.

Although no longer fighting against the strain of gravity as they clawed their way up and through the Burkaguutsval Gap, they now fought with her, one foot almost always on the brakes as too not gain too much speed with the sometimes dangerous pitches and turns of the road. Traffic, even past midnight, still remained higher on the slopes surrounding the capital- and now the column was repeatedly passed by one after another civilian vehicles that further heightened the soldiers’ anxiety and alarm. The drive towards the capital was on, and now gradually descending in elevation, their pace was increased.

A hundred ranks of transport trucks, heading down towards their destiny at Chan’Kogalnikeau.

A hundred ranks soon to be met by a growing volume of military forces organized by the rightful Ketchenak Khan.

With the slow rising of the sun in a time that they were once shadowed by the mountains surrounding their homes and sanctity in Lahovnbagüi, the sky grew increasingly bright, and with it, the spirits of Florin and his closest supporters grimmer. The veil was slipping, if not already drawn back.

The Promise of Vu’duceship seemed to leave Florin as quick as the moon, dropping behind the Chubvlai mountains, leaving the absolution of day to shine with increasing brightness, and the day waking. Descending down, the Leopard has started to fall into the Lion’s grasp.

Chairman Borisov Announces Early Election

Following mounting pressure from the Listovian public and members of the Peoples' Assembly, Chairman Alexander Borisov has announced his intention to hold a General Election within the coming weeks. It comes amid calls on Chairman Borisov to hold an election to seek public support for a new mandate for a peacetime government.

It potentially looks to be an uphill battle for the Listovian Peoples’ Front whose polling has continued to decline since the defection of six LPF assembly members to the newly formed New Listovia party. This splinter party has been growing since its creation and is now polling second behind the LPF. Despite this growth a poll on 26 April put New Listovia 16 points behind.

Meanwhile the Listovian Democratic Party and Social Democratic Party continue to poll around 15 points each. Whilst Listovia First has seen its support collapse since January when New Listovia was created.

The upcoming election which will be held on 25 May, as it must allow a four week campaign period, will be the first to be held under a new electoral system. The new system will see 32 members elected from constituency seats whilst a further 88 will be elected from the nationwide popular vote subject to a five percent threshold.

In response to the news Nicholai Levitsky, the Leader of New Listovia, said “We welcome the Chairman’s announcement and his commitment to peacetime democracy but we must recognise his failure to secure the freedom of all Listovians. If elected my party will begin immediate discussions with Five Kingdoms to secure the release of the occupied northern territories and we will evaluate all necessary steps to ensure the freedom of all of Listovia.”

The Leader of the Listovian Democratic Party, Borek Sidorchuk, commented on the announcement “This election will be a chance for the Listovian electorate to decide how they want Listovia to rebuild and we believe that it is one where we are not controlled by a party that is more suited to being a paramilitary organisation.”

With four weeks now until polling day the future of the LPF’s current administration could soon be called into doubt. It is believed that the parties will begin campaign in the coming days with each hoping to command the Assembly by the end of May.