ENDWAR is now TOVR since I really can't be arsed to deal with all the potential legalities of sharing a name with a Tom Clancy book AND game.
Writing is in full force. This is getting better and better. The storyarc looks, at this point, like it will be in the neighbourhood of 70 chapters.
I am no longer updating this. As far as I am concerned formatting everything for the blog is a waste of my time. For my chapters, go to http://jekotia.deviantart.com/
Bring on the war :D
Phase One: Briefing - Chapter Five
Insina Oait Tuli Asner
Jekotian Military Engineering Test Site, Conference Room Three, Ghant Plains
July 14, 2985
“My name is Robert Jonathan Borden, Staff Sergeant, serial number IOTA-63. Some of you may already know about my history, but I doubt it. I joined the Jekotian armed forces when I was eighteen. One month into arms training, I was recognized as a skilled sharp shooter by the drill instructors and marked to begin sniper training. Three weeks into sniper training I had shown excellent skills in the maintenance and use of my rifle, but most noteworthy, in my spare time I designed a simple mechanism that used the force of firing the rifle to release the empty bullet casing and chamber another round. At this point I was identified as a sharpshooter with an uncanny ability with mechanics. I was then referred to scout training, where I was trained in infiltration, sabotage, and low awareness kills.
“After a few months as a front line sniper and saboteur, I was approached by Dr. Geond, head of Jekotian Military Genetic Engineering, and asked if I was interested in being a test subject for experimental genetic modifications. He explained to me that they were to be the next generation of the standard military genetics. He also assured me that it was entirely volunteer based, and I could back out at any time before the procedure. I knew what I was in for, that I had a good chance of dying, but I wanted to serve the best I could, and that meant helping test these new genetics. On October 4th, 2979, strapped to a surgical table in a room with ninety-nine other soldiers, the procedure began. The only thing I remember is an injection in my left forearm that shortly after rendered me unconscious. I was later told that during the procedure, while none of us recall any of it, we were jerking in our restraints, screaming in pain, before eventually calming down and lying still, as though we had died. The procedure had destroyed our immune systems, and after months in isolation, being injected with countless anti-bodies to fight off diseases, it was over. None of us remembered any of it. We just woke up one day, months later, thinking it was the day after the procedure. Out of the one hundred of us that entered, only thirty-nine survived.
“The end result though, the by-product of these torturous genetic modifications, was a revolution in military genetics. While we had difficulty using our bodies at first, we quickly relearned our training. We were stronger and faster than before, but more notably, our senses were well past what is normal for a Jekotian soldier. Our senses were enhanced to the point where we could feel everything around us, see farther than a sniper with a two-times scope, hear the gentle beat of insect wings, and detect poisons by scent. We could also endure pain past even what the most elite strike teams could cope with, and our reflexes, we were nearly untouchable by melee combat experts. All of this, at the cost of a sixty-one percent mortality rate, and the haunting fact that had lost your humanity.
“We executed countless covert-op’s over the course of five years. We were the soldiers that were sent on the near suicidal ops, missions so critical and dangerous High Command would trust no-one else. Then it ended, in an abrupt storm of death.
“On April 13th, 2985, I was charged and incarcerated for Dereliction of Duty for refusing to participate in I-23, a covert op to infiltrate a frontline Brenodi military base and disable its defences for a demolition crew, on the grounds of my personal feelings, that the operation was sabotaged. After spending three days in a cell, I was released and notified that the entire platoon was killed in an airstrike less than an hour into enemy territory. I was instructed to attend the burial ceremony, and then take two weeks off. During that time I tracked down and killed a Jekotian intelligence officer who had informed Brenodi Air Command of the operation. Two days later, I was forced into Cryogenic storage by an armed security force, and now I stand before you today. I am the only known survivor from the IOTA genetic modification experimental procedures, and today, I plan to change that. Dr. Geond and I are restarting the IOTA modifications, preparing them to become mainstream with a final test group that I will lead to the frontlines of Bren. This isn’t a request, it has already begun. All of the volunteers – thirty Special Forces scouts, grenadiers, engineers, and riflemen – are to begin the procedures in roughly three hours. They will all survive this time. Instead of taking anyone like the original IOTA procedures, all thirty volunteers share similar DNA to mine, making them likely to survive as I did. In addition, the procedure and chemicals are refined, with the noticeably lethal components removed. This new generation will herald the way for the main stream modifications that will work for any soldier, and push the Jekotian body to limits unimagined.
“This is the future of warfare. Imagine a soldier that can move an overturned jeep, or working together, flip a tank back onto its tracks. Grenadiers that can carry and operate the equivalent to tank cannons. Engineers that can haul heavy turret platforms into enemy territory, and then shred infantry faster than a ‘farm’ of Tier-Three Machinegun Turrets. Scouts carrying anti-material rifles, or riflemen with a Rocket Launcher as a backup weapon. Heavy infantry that can perform in any situation. These modifications make all of those possible, by pushing the Jekotian war-machine past the limits of the human body. By escalating evolution and introducing new hormones and genes. By destroying the humanity of a person, and rebuilding them completely for war. In just three hours, this will all be a reality, and in six months, the results of the procedures will have perfected it and become mainstream.”
“My god, it sounds like you’re creating monsters,” Casten said with a look of horror on her face.
“No, miss, this war is about survival. I will do anything to ensure my soldiers survive. We are losing and desperately need this. It won’t disfigure anyone, merely improve their muscular, bone, nervous, and cardiovascular structure, among many other things. It’s essentially a few thousand years of evolution, in a week,” Borden replied.
Over the next few hours, Borden debated with Casten and other members of High Command. Some disagreed with some aspects, but were convinced. Eventually, once the debate ended, Borden continued,
“As you likely don’t know yet, I am representing the Infantry Corps. Over one million soldiers are being mobilized, largely heavy infantry equipped for combat and engineering. We will fight inland on landing day, disable the coastal defences, and establish bases while the main fleet makes landfall. Once the main fleet hits the beaches, we’ll partially fall back to the shores and bring up armour and spare parts. We will have roughly six forward bases,” Borden said, pointing to the planned locations on a map of the shores of Bren, “each with multiple barracks, armouries, repair stations, radars, air fields, and heavy turret platforms. From there, we will advance farther inland to disable the anti-air defences ringing the city,” Borden continued, marking the rough area of the defences with a curve, “allowing air support to advance on optimal attack vectors and assist ground units in their advance. Once the city is breached, forces will advance to here,” Borden said as he marked the location on the map, “According to our spies, this is the headquarters for the Brenodi Missile Defence Network. Once this building is destroyed, our missile silos will obtain coordinates from HOPERISING and launch at the remaining Brenodi air defences on the other side of the city.” He paused again, marking the rough area with a curve. “From there, our forces will clear and move through the city and out into the country side, toward where our spies informed us Brenodi High Command resides. If we destroy Brenodi High Command, their military network will fall, and their forces will fall into disarray. It is the single most crippling blow we can strike them with.
“I am also pleased to inform you that a BEAST class tank, nicknamed Hellion, has been recovered and is undergoing repairs. The Hellion is to be considered a ‘shock’ unit, and will be deployed via flyby at approximately fifty feet, creating massive disruption for the Brenodi lines, making them much less effective in combat. Hellion will be delivered by a Hellgate dropship. The Hellgate is a heavily modified, heavy duty quad-turbine Locust dropship, designed specifically for the deployment of Hellion. It’s capable of easily transporting Hellion, with room in the hold for crew and munitions. Once the repairs are finished, I will have more details. This tank will not fall to the armoured divisions; it is a speciality unit for the Infantry Corps. to call upon in an emergency. As such, it will have to maintain a ready status at all times. I believe that is all.”
“Thank you Borden,” Patterson said as he stepped up. “Now you all know what’s in store, organize your forces and resources. The fleet departs on October 9th and will only wait if absolutely necessary. I expect all of you to share everything discussed here with the Commanders of your respective divisions, and organize troop movement to the fleets’ departure point at Port Norald, Elsa. All munitions, vehicles, and aircraft will be loaded ahead of time by the port authority, but it is your task to organize the transportation of such equipment, and work with the other divisions to figure out how much of each will be loaded onto each ship in the fleet. That is all, dismissed.”
Phase One: Briefing - Chapter Four
Briefing, Day Three
Jekotian Military Engineering Test Site, Undisclosed Location, Ghant Plains
July 14, 2985
“FIRE IN THE HOLE,” an engineer shouted over the sites speakers as he pressed the detonator. Moments later, a Brenodi landmine in front of a Jekotian heavy tank detonated. It was an ABSRE armour demonstration for officials from High Command. Once the debris had cleared, the engineer took the officials outside to show the results to them.
“As you can see,” the engineer began, “the front plating where this heavy tank was hit has taken little damage, faired better than most armour. If you look closely, you will see how the reactive components have become dominant in the vicinity of the blast, while the rest of the armour is still neutral, frozen between reactive and absorbent states.”
ABSRE armour, a hybrid of absorbent and reactive armour, was a revolutionary new armour technology finishing its testing stages. Utilizing the electrical sensors and hardware integrated in reactive plating, and modifying it with absorbent materials, the circuitry analyzes the velocity and angle of a projectile zero point two-five centimetres before impact. The onboard software then initiates a rapid chemical reaction, which causes the armour to undergo a permanent state change, to either absorbent or reactive, depending on the projectile detected.
“My lord, that’s remarkable. I’ve never seen a tank take so little damage from a modern landmine. How heavy is this per plate? Standard, lighter, heavier,” Lieutenant Commander Skeer asked. Jack was a scientific engineering major from the Ronan University of Scientific Engineering, now working as an engineer in the Jekotian Military Engineering Corps. He carefully thought out his reply.
“In its neutral state, it’s slightly heavier than standard reactive armour, but it changes depending on its state. The absorbent sections become fibrous and light, while the reactive portions remain unchanged, remaining at the same weight. On top of that, there’s approximately four point six pounds of hardware to operate the armour, as well as an additional half pound of EMP shielding to prevent the armour shutting down in an EMP blast,” Jack replied.
“However,” he continued, “ABSRE plating is highly volatile near any fission based technology, except the SZF reactor. Our scientists don’t yet fully understand why, but when near the fissile materials that are commonly used in fission based technology, the armour experiences a violent deformational explosive reaction. This, more often than not, renders the armour plating absolutely useless, making the vehicle and crew vulnerable to a single explosive shell. Due to this issue, the transportation and use of nukes in this operation will have to be rare, with authorization coming directly from High Command, as well as the complete restriction of standard fission reactors,” he finished.
“This SZF reactor, what does that stand for, what does it do,” Skeer asked.
“It stands for Sub Zero Fission reactor. By injecting liquid nitrogen into the fuel cell, it’s capable of maintaining temperatures below zero degrees Celsius. The liquid nitrogen has an interesting property; the more energy applied to it the more it expands and cools. Literally, the more energy the engine outputs, cooler it runs. The effects of the fissile materials used to initiate fission, particularly the effects that render ABSRE useless, seem to be blocked by these arctic temperatures, making it the safest and most effective engine to use with ABSRE armour plating. Its horsepower and acceleration exceed standard fission reactors and three-phase electric-motors, respectively, and produce heat levels lower than that of a coolant based engine. The drawback is that if the liquid nitrogen supply runs dry with the engine operational, the heat created by the engine will increase exponentially, and result in a sub-atomic blast. On average, this engine can run for eight hours from a two litre supply of liquid nitrogen,” Jack replied.
“Remarkable. And this technology, except when the liquid nitrogen supply runs dry, is perfectly safe,” Skeer asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Unless you open the engine compartment and climb in, yes,” Jack replied with a laugh.
A few hours later, after sharing all of the technical specifications of the SZF reactor with the officials from High Command, they arrived at a field. It was mostly clear, with a few lightly wooded areas. There was a course marked out with pylons, and what appeared to be wooden targets scattered around the course. Jack activated the radio pack on his belt and said,
“Bill, start the test please.”
For a few seconds nothing happened, just silence. Growing impatient, Borden asked,
“What the hell are we wait-” Before Borden could finish, he was cut off by the low roar of an engine, and machinegun fire. Moments later, as everyone looked farther up the track, trying to find the source of the noise, a jeep fishtailed around a corner coming into view. As wooden targets popped up, the driver called out their locations to the gunner, who fired controlled bursts, obliterating the wooden targets. As they drew near the officials from High Command, it was clear that they were enjoying themselves. The driver had a grin on his face, and the gunner let out a laugh every time he hit a target. In the next stretch was a complex obstacle course, consisting of water hazards, wreckage, fires, uneven muddy terrain, and a thirty degree upward slope littered with debris. The entire course was just over a kilometre long, and the two soldiers completed it in approximately five minutes, with only eight of the one-hundred targets missed. Shortly after, Jack led everyone to the end of the course, where the jeep sat empty.
“I take it this is the Sidewinder,” Borden asked Jack with a smile. Jack replied,
“Yes, sir. This is the production ready model. The manufacturing specifications were finished and sent to the plants earlier today. There should be a few hundred ready before the battle group deploys to Bren.”
The Sidewinder had an angular front end that sloped outward into the main cab. Inside the cab was seating for two, as well as a room for a gunner to stand behind the seats and use the ring-mounted machine gun on the roof. Behind the cab sat the massive engine. Jack said,
“The Sidewinder is the most effective rapid assault vehicle ever produced by Jekotia. The machinegun mount on the roof is capable of holding anything from a light machinegun, to a chaingun, to a depleted-uranium armour-piercing machinegun, or even a rocket launcher. The steering is very responsive, easy to control, and the suspension is tensioned to make it easy to traverse any terrain, without sacrificing manoeuvrability. The engine, a custom electrical-bio-diesel hybrid, powers all four wheels, and can achieve a max speed of three-hundred kilometres-per-hour, with an acceleration rate of approximately fifty kilometres-per-hour per three seconds. The gearbox is designed to allow both automatic and manual gear shifting, and the emergency brake can bring the Sidewinder from full speed to a full stop in eight seconds. The entire vehicle is fit with composite armour as standard, so it’s light yet durable.”
“Very impressive,” Borden responded.
“So, I take it that Sidewinder allocation is now under the Armoured Corps. Jurisdiction,” Skeer asked Jack.
“No, sir,” Jack responded, “Due to the Sidewinder being a light rapid assault vehicle, it falls to the Infantry Corps. It will be their main assault platform.”
“Ah, well, you can’t win them all. Sure looks fun to drive though,” Skeer replied, disappointment creeping into his voice.
Ten minutes later, they all arrive at the final test site for the day. Waiting for them are two soldiers in what appears to be heavy combat gear, and farther down the range, captured Brenodi armour. As they draw near, the soldiers salute.
“At ease,” Patterson tells them, “Jack, what are we looking at here then?”
“This is the Man-Portable Railgun, or MPRG for short. The design is based off of tank based railguns, but fires a lower calibre 80mm armour-piercing shell. It is carried and operated by two people. One person carries the barrel, and the other the shells and hardware. Assembly and operation is simple. Privates, a demonstration of assembly please,”
The two soldiers quickly worked together to first remove the barrel from ones back, and then fit it to the base, which was easily removed from the bottom of the others munitions backpack. The barrel appeared to be nothing more than a matte black tube. The base, however, was a different story. A three prong clamp attached to the bottom of the barrel, which was attached to a tripod. Mounted on the tripod was a very confusing looking computer console, approximately ten inches wide, with wires flowing everywhere. Attached to the back of the console was battery pack. Once assembled, the soldiers stepped aside so that the officials from High Command could see. Jack continued,
“To operate the MPRG you have one soldier in front of the tripod, either standing or crouching, and using the viewfinder to aim it. The other soldier takes position at the back. They load the shells into the rear, and use the console to adjust the shell velocity to match the target range. The MPRG is loaded by pushing a shell onto the magnetically charged rails at the back; the hardware takes care of the rest. It can fire as fast as it is loaded.”
“Very impressive,” Borden replied, “I trust there is a demonstration planned?”
“Yes, of course sir,” Jack replied, “Privates, you may start the test.”
The two soldiers nodded and moved to operating positions. Within seconds, they were hitting a Brenodi AFV at twenty-five meters, and after the third shell, it promptly exploded due to munitions cook-off. They then shifted fire to a moving Brenodi heavy tank at fifty meters. Out of the eleven shells fired at it, three missed, but the remaining eight made contact, destroying its turret, and jamming the tracks on its left.
“Very impressive. Can I take one home with me,” Borden asked with a chuckle.
“No, but they went into full production last week. Should be in the hundreds by now,” Jack replied.
“Excellent. Thank you very much for your time, Jack, this will be very helpful in planning implementation of these technologies,” Patterson said, “Now then, lets take a break. Go around and find out any information you would specifically like while were hear, we will meet in Conference Room Three in one hour.”
Phase One: Briefing - Chapter Three
HOPERISING Launch
Jekotian Space Command, Outskirts of Ronan
July 13, 2985
“T minus five, four, three, two, one, we have liftoff,” came an unknown voice over the radio. And as the voice said liftoff, the grounding clamps holding the monolithic satellite released. All of this was seen from a kilometre away, via remote cameras stationed around the launch site. The sheer pressure created by the engines of HOPERISING made the surrounding area too dangerous for human life. As the vessel rose, the flames from the engine were no longer cushioned by the five foot thick, reinforced, flame proof, steel launch pad, and the true power of it became apparent. A supersonic roar swept across the surrounding area, and from a distance, it looked as if the vessel was being consumed by the flames from its engines. Birds in nearby trees took flight, only to be consumed by the devastating sound wave.
As HOPERISING ascends higher, the engines create a subsonic boom at one thousand feet, the afterburner igniting. At four thousand feet, things go horribly wrong: Brenodi aircraft are attempting to intercept.
“What the fuck is going on out there,” Patterson boomed, “I specifically instructed for an escort of fighters to make sure HOPERISING isn’t intercepted at launch!”
“Sorry, sir,” the lieutenant at the command console replied, “There was a delay at the hangers, someone sabotaged the landing gear on one of the jets, it collapsed in the door way.”
“God damn it, the Brenodi had the whole thing set up! If we don’t get a squadron out there now, were screwed. We don’t have the time or the resources to replace HOPERISING before this war is over,” Patterson said, angered by the lack of hanger security.
“What about the AA batteries, lieutenant,” Patterson continued in a calmer tone.
“Their being air-lifted to the launch site now, ETA three minutes,” the lieutenant replied, briefly interrupted by a radio transmission, “and it seems the hanger is clear. The fighters are launching now.”
“May God be with them, our fate rests in their hands now,” Patterson said, followed by a brief prayer.
On the runway, five Raptor heavy fighters moved into takeoff positions on runway five.
“Zulu-One to Raptor Wing Zulu, prepare for takeoff,” the wing lead said over team COM. Then, on all COM, “Control, this is Zulu-One of Raptor Wing Zulu, requesting permission for Raptor Wing Zulu to launch from runway five,” he continued over the COM.
“Roger Zulu-One, your clear, give those bastards hell,” came a reply from the control tower.
“Roger that control, igniting engines, over and out,” Zulu-One said over all COM, before closing the link.
“Ok boys, power to engines, throttle to full, we got some Brandy’s to take out. Bearing twenty-three point nine degrees west, altitude seven thousand feet, flight formation Charlie-five.” Zulu-One, also known as Adrian, shouted over team COM. It was a standard V shaped formation, what really mattered about it was the five. A five in any flight formation meant weapons free, fire at will, no restrictions, an order directly from High Command.
Almost instantly, pillars of fire exploded out of the Raptors engines, creating air-distorting heat waves on the runway, a wall of fire. Seconds later, Zulu-One nosed up, leaving the runway, followed sequentially by his four wingmen. At one hundred meters after takeoff, the Raptors emitted an ear splitting roar, their pilots igniting the after burners, launching them from two hundred kilometres an hour to nearly Mach one.
“Zulu-One to wing, bank hard right, heading twenty-three point nine degrees west, follow my lead,” Adrian said over team COM. In seconds, he received confirmations from the rest of Zulu, and everyone was in tight formation behind him.
“We have weapons free order, but this time there’s a catch. If you so much as touch HOPERISING you will be shot down by friendly AA. They don’t want to risk an AWOL pilot damaging it, as sad as it may be. It’s more valuable than anyone or anything Jekotia has ever known, so check your fire and confirm your targets before engaging. In this fight, failure means death,” Adrian says, grimly broadcasting on team COM.
“Sir, we got hostiles, one thousand meters off, their heading straight for the satellite,” Jillian said over team COM. She was their radar expert. While as good as anyone else in combat, she had ridiculous skills with radar systems, and could interpret data faster than anyone else Adrian had ever met. He trusted her more then even the most advanced radar systems on MAC’s.
“Roger that, any idea how many?”
“Just give me a moment. Got it, three fighters, a bomber, and three high-altitude gunships.”
“Shit! Raptor Wing Zulu, release safeties on all weapons systems, clearance phrase Foxtrot Charlie Zebra Nine. Break formation and engage, fire at will,” Adrian yelled over team COM as he broke off of the formation and headed for what he thought was the bomber. He glanced to the left and the right of the cockpit and did a quick weapons check. All systems operational, but on standby. He reached forward and turned a key recessed under the control panel: master control for all weapons systems. He turned it clockwise, until he heard a satisfying click, then rechecked the indicators. Amber lights slowly wink on, indicators that the safety for that particular weapon is disengaged. One is red.
Adrian quickly runs a diagnostic, his hull-mounted Vulcan rotary-cannon is jammed. Easy to fix, but it requires unloading the weapon, resulting in the loss of a munitions belt. He thumbs the control for the RC, and hears a series of dull thumps as the belt drops, hitting the interior of the munitions hold a few times, before it drops down to the planet. A few seconds later, the red light winks off, replaced by an amber light. Quickly checking his master control, a green light winks on; all weapons systems ready to fire.
As Adrian flew closer, he picked out his target, and slowly adjusted his radar to track it. With his thumb, he flicked up the cover on the top of his left joystick, allowing access to the yellow button underneath. When he draws within three hundred meters of his target, he pulls the trigger.
A Hawk-Eye missile detaches from his left wing, and in a puff of smoke, roars toward the painted Brenodi gunship. A few seconds before impact, the gunship fires its manoeuvring thrusters, narrowly escaping the missile, not realizing it’s a Hawk-Eye. The last thing he ever sees is the missile exploding as it passes him, blasting shrapnel into the cockpit, blinding him, and causing him to bleed to death. As the gunship plummets toward the planet, 50mm tracer rounds from the now-delivered AA batteries around the launch pad tear into the gunships hull, creating a fireball in the sky as its fuel tank is hit. Flaming shrapnel rains down, narrowly missing the AA batteries.
“Shit, George, watch what your doing, you nearly got me hit by a god damn flaming gunship hull!”
“Sorry Fred, accident!”
Seconds later, Mark cries out for help over team COM. Three Imperial Temptress fighters are trying to shoot him down. It was the one curses of being their weapons expert; he was always a choice target because his Raptor had a heavier and a more powerful weapons load. No smart pilot would let him live. As the Imperial fighters take another run at Mark, Pyre rotary-cannons blazing, Jessica intercepts one of them with a high-explosive round from her wing-mounted Javelin auto-cannon. Jessica was their ranged combat expert. She excelled in the use of ranged cannons, and the Javelin was the aerial equivalent to a sniper rifle. She could put an armour piercing round through the engine motor of a plane approximately one kilometre away. As the destroyed fighter plummets toward the planet, Jessica pulls away, and prepares for another run.
Mark, having ‘lost’ the remaining two Imperial fighters, banks to the left, ready for another run, and revenge. As he nears his enemies, he activates both of his hull-mounted high-explosive rotary-cannons. In seconds, the rounds tear into the Imperial fighters, detonating munitions, fuel, and critical systems. Before one of them is enveloped in a sphere of roiling fire, it fires off a heat seeking missile, which narrowly misses Mark.
Jillian isn’t as lucky. Her being directly behind Mark, the missile, a Harbinger, picks up the heat signature of her Raptor’s engines, and streaks toward her. Its armour piercing warhead breaches the aft section of her Raptor, where it activates its ‘hooks,’ curved pieces of reinforced titanium that stop the missile dead in its tracks. As the missile sits inside the hull of Jillian’s Raptor, awaiting the detonation codes for its three hundred pound payload, it stops receiving the keep-alive signal from its pilot, activating its secondary fail-safe detonator.
The missile detonated, blasting shrapnel through the body of the fighter, shearing Jillian’s Raptor to pieces. For a few brief moments, amidst her Raptors transformation into a sphere of fire and destruction, a miniature star exists in high-orbit above Ronan. The Imperial bomber had flown too close to Jillian, and became consumed by her flaming aircraft, detonating the munitions carried by the bomber, creating a second sunrise. A spectacular but devastating sight for both sides.
With only two high-altitude gunships remaining, the Brenodi fled. Out numbered and outgunned, they knew they didn’t have a chance in hell.
“Their fleeing, take those bastards down,” Adrian shouted over team COM, “make them pay for what they did to Jillian!”
No sooner did Adrian give the order, than one of the gunships exploded into a plume of flaming shrapnel; the AA guns on the ground had finally calibrated for the right altitude, and were tearing the gunships to pieces.
As his last wingman went down, the remaining gunship pilot must have realized he truly didn’t have a chance at survival. With one last glance upward at the now distant satellite, he fires his manoeuvring thrusters to gain altitude and turn to face his four enemies. As a final desperate act, he removes all safeties and fail-safes, arms the self-destruct mechanism, and rushes toward the four fighters. Reaching speeds in excess of two hundred kilometres an hour, and venting billowing clouds of smoke, he passes by the enemy formation, and detonates his gunship, creating a two thousand pound explosion, a chain reaction of countless munitions, and another star in the sky. Bromus flew right into it, blocking both engines, and entering a downward spiral toward the planet. Reaching sub-sonic speeds, the fighter crashes into the launch pad, tearing a massive hole in the alloy, and then detonating into a fireball.
“It was his first real flight, he trusted us,” Mark grimly said over team COM, “we failed him, and Jillian. We failed both of them, our friends.”
As Raptor Wing Zulu talks about the days events, and the loss of their friends on their way back to the hanger, HOPERISING reaches the extents of the planets atmosphere, and breaks away, into orbit.
Tomorrow the final briefing will occur, in three days time the satellite will be fully operational, and in three months, the true operation will begin. As forces stir, and wheels turn, events hidden to both sides are set in motion. Is this the beginning of the end, or the start of something bigger? Only time will tell, and as these things happen, one thing never changes; millions of soldiers and assets are being trained, briefed, and transported. The launch of the satellite has stuck fear into the Brenodi’s iron heart, and the peoples Jekotia feel a new burning hope, one not felt in decades. It’s the beginning of something, something yet to be fully realized. Something that will ignite a nation, and forever change the planet.
Phase One: Briefing - Chapter Two
Briefing, Day two
Jekotian High Command, Ronan, Southern Wing
June 29, 2985
“Ah, excellent, I trust you are well and up to speed now, Borden?”
“Yes, sir. The freezer burn was minor, but medics quickly treated it. I spent an hour on the range, and an hour in the gym. I was then briefed on this ‘Operation Endwar’ proposal.” Borden replied, grinning. Patterson could tell he was excited about his upcoming missions.
“Good, now, if you will please follow me, we have a meeting to attend in conference room five,” replied Patterson.
The two walked for a few minutes, in a silence broken only by shouting in passed conference rooms, and the hum of recessed projectors. After two minutes, the silence was broken by a sharp voice over the communications network recessed in the ceiling.
“High Commander Patterson and Sergeant Borden, please report to conference room five, your late.”
“Ah, don’t worry about her,” Patterson told Borden with a chuckle, “she’s always been a nag. Has something to complain about even when a persons on time. Excellent receptionist though. No idea how she gets through all that paperwork.”
Soon after Borden asks Patterson,
“I’m sorry ,sir, but what is the date? It seems everyone has been instructed not to tell me, no one would answer while I was training,” Borden asked.
“Ah, I suppose you would find out on your own anyway. I’m sorry Borden, it’s been sixteen years, your family, their dead. Killed by a Brenodi bombing run. They hit the entire city of Emin. Its nothing but a crater now.”
Just as abruptly as the topic came up, Borden had collapsed on the floor sobbing, shaking, cursing. Patterson knelt down beside him, patted Borden on the back, and said,
“It’s not your fault. Nothing could be done. They flew in high, above radar range, and used satellite guided bombs. No one could do anything. I hope it’s of some solace, a squadron of Vulture pilots took out the bombers before they re-entered Brenodi air space. None of the bombers survived. They paid dearly for their horrendous attack on civilians,” Patterson explained, “but not dearly enough.”
“She was only two. It would have been her eighteenth birthday in two weeks. I never even got to see her. Only pictures,” Borden said as he broke down.
Minutes passed in silence, the only disturbance being over the communication network, another reminder that they were late. This time Patterson replied,
“Oh shut up! Maybe you should try surveillance for once, and see to what’s going on before you harass someone. Sergeant Borden needs some time to himself, so just be quiet!”
The receptionist abruptly shut off her microphone, and went back to her paperwork.
“Come on now, your strong, give an old man a hand. I can’t lift the weight of both of us,” he chuckled. Borden looked up and smiled. He was happy again, for now.
“I feel sorry for the first Brenodi soldier that gets to meet you, he probably wont even have enough time to see your face.” continued Patterson, “I trust your ready now for the operation ahead?”
“Yes, sir,” Borden replied with a big smile, “and your right, the first Brenodi I encounter will only have enough time to see his finger get shot off before I finish him,” he said with a somewhat sickening grin. Patterson sighed and thought, “He may be the best we have, but he scares the shit out of even me sometimes. The man’s got spirit though. He might just make this operation work.”
“Again, thank you all for being here today. A quick refresher before we begin: we left off yesterday with the task of unit requisition. Would everyone please report on what they have been able to allocate for this operation,” stated Patterson. A tall thin woman, Patterson vaguely remembered from his days at the academy, stood, clipboard in hand, and began. In a few moments, for Patterson, it clicked. She was the Lieutenant Commander of Naval Defence, Tisha Breckyard.
“I regret to inform everyone that we cannot afford to allocate as many naval resources as requested. Recent increases in Brenodi sea-going aircraft has greatly increased the need for oceanic anti-air defences. If we withdraw too many ships we will have bombers and dropships hitting the border and the mainland as if there was a worm hole to the heart of our nation. We must keep at least thirty-eight percent of our current anti-air equipped warships where they are now, or risk exposing our entire nation to the rage of Brenodi air support. We are, however, in the process of readying the other sixty-two percent of the fleet. Food stores will be fully stocked on all vessels by weeks end, and munitions are in transport. Across all vessels involved, we will be at full crew and operational capacity in two weeks. We also have three dry docks running at double capacity finishing new Raven Spear warships.
“For anyone not familiar with the work of the Spear Point Military Corporation, they have been pushing and innovating our military technology for years. While their works are few, they have openly shared all their research and blueprints with Jekotian corporations and government for years, allowing mass production and cross-corporation development and refinement. The result has always been new cutting-edge technology with unprecedented efficiency. Their latest work, the Raven Spear Heavy Support Carrier, is in its own class.
“Never before has a ship of this size been created without severe handicaps on mobility and speed. Ten of them side by side could potentially cover a quarter of Ronan. They can carry and transport over two-hundred thousand tons of munitions, crew, arms, armour, aircraft, and small water craft. They are, in essence, aquatic military encampments. Their armament consists of three 131mm anti-air flak-batteries; five 253mm heavy artillery cannons for both ship-to-ship warfare and artillery support; eight 74mm rotary cannons, four along the port side and four along the starboard side, for point defence; precision-guided five-kilogram depth-charges; four missile racks, each holding seven modular missiles launchers; and two twin-linked 200mm high-explosive cannons for ship-to-ship combat. Powering each ship are eight four meter propellers, powered by four fission reactors, operating at twenty terawatts. The airstrip can launch four conventional aircraft, or sixteen VTOL aircraft, simultaneously. The living and sleeping quarters include that for the one hundred-fifty person crew, and five hundred additional combat personnel. The interior water-craft bay can store eight vessels in dry dock, and three ready to deploy out of a partially submerged door. The vehicle storage bay can hold nearly one hundred vehicles, and the aircraft hangers approximately fifty planes.
“The facilities alone for these vessels construction took two years. It’s now been almost five years since construction on the ships began. They are the pinnacle of Jekotian engineering. They are the most powerful weapon platforms to exist since Jekotian fighters intercepted the Brenodi’s orbital rail gun cannon as it ascended into high orbit twenty-three years ago,” Breckyard finished.
“Thank you very much for that information Lieutenant Commander. Now, who else has information to share,” Patterson asked. This time it was a man. He measured approximately six feet tall, and was slightly overweight. Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Skeer of the armoured Corps.
“We have been able to meet, and perhaps exceed, your request. I am happy to announce that approximately sixty-three percent of the Jekotian armoured forces are allocated to this operation. The frontline's will remain strong even with this unit decease, and we don’t just have battered stuff off the front lines. The units are already in transport, a good balance of heavy tanks, medium tanks, light tanks, artillery tanks, and APC’s. However, since the Sidewinders aren’t yet fully deployed, they do not fall under our jurisdiction, so I have no idea when, or how many, will be available. Upon arrival at the regions where the ships are moored, the vehicles will be refitted with newer and better technology. It will take approximately three and a half weeks to complete this process,” Skeer finished.
“Excellent, Skeer. Good work. Now then, that leaves only you, Lieutenant Commander Casten, would please share your information,” Patterson said.
“Yes, sir,” Casten said as she stood. She was a middle aged woman, average height, with a strong build. She had worked her way up from being a transport pilot, to a fighter, then a bomber, and eventually the Lieutenant Commander of Jekotian air forces. She was a fine example of determination and true Jekotian spirit.
“We will be able to allocate only fifty-one percent of our air force to this operation. The same increase in sea-going Brenodi aircraft that has called for more naval activity has also created the need for increased aircraft patrols. However, the allocated aircraft are among the best available. Available, there are: thirty-two Locust heavy transports, eighteen Phoenix Mark-III bombers, twenty-three Raptor fighters, and nineteen prototype Boomer gunships. I wont go into the details since were running late as it is, and we need to start on battle plans,” Casten finished.
“Excellent work Casten. And as she said, yes, we do need to start on battle plans. Lets get started then, shall we,” Patterson asked.
The noise levels in the room slowly dropped, pierced by the occasional shout of anger. They sat for hours, proposing new and old tactics, poking the flaws, and refining them. Eventually, Patterson stood and announced,
“And now our last order of business for today. As you all know, our history with space-bound technology hasn’t been anywhere near as efficient as that of the Brenodi. However, that is set to change. If you will all please follow me, bring your belongings if you wish, we are done in here for today,” Patterson said as he strode to the door, opened it, and waited in the hall.
“As you should all know,” Patterson said, as he lead everyone through a complex corridor, making many turns, “our attempts to launch a satellite into orbit have always failed at one point. Fifty-three years ago, MIRACLE-ONE detonated into a three megaton fireball on the launch pad, hitting the city of Calyene with a devastating supersonic blast wave. Most of the city was levelled, thank god there were few deaths, and the entire craft and crew was destroyed. Eleven years later, after thousands of revisions, simulations, tests, and innovations, REBIRTH was launched. The shuttle encountered difficulties in low orbit when one of the rockets failed, and it plummeted into the Koln Pass military base, creating a thermonuclear fireball and obliterating it. No one survived. Sixteen years later, SATCOM was launched successfully into high orbit. After weeks of using it for communication, it broke orbit and collided with a passing asteroid. Turns out that a spy was on the team programming the satellite, and had added a backdoor routine to allow full manual control of it. After that, all attempts to launch a satellite were grounded. That is, until thirteen years ago,” Patterson says as he stops at a massive blast door. He turns to face everyone following and continues,
“Ladies and gentlemen, what I am about to show you is the most ambitious project in the history of our nation. A new type of satellite, a new breed of technology, a new era of hope,” he says as he turns back to the door and activates the security verification. The system quickly scans his retina, voice, thumb prints, and finishes by having him enter a code on a keypad. As soon as he finished, the sounds of heavy bolts releasing, gears moving, and chains pulling filled the corridor. Slowly, a bright white light crept around and under the door. Very slowly, the door moved, as if being forced by unseen giants. Beyond the door was a massive, busy room. Everywhere there were engineers working on some aspect of the monolithic structure in the center of the room. Once the group entered the room, it was quite clear what it was.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is HOPERISING. The single largest piece of military hardware ever conceived,” Patterson said, and turned to see everyone standing there, eyes wide, shocked, “it will launch into high orbit in two weeks. It’s equipped with a communications array capable of connecting our entire military network simultaneously, with a power cell that can output five terawatt for five years. It can support an unlimited number of communications channels, as well as broadcast coordinates, and provide pinpoint targeting aid to any weapons system. As a last resort, it’s equipped with a solid fuel propulsion rocket that can be used to direct it into a ground-based target, with the default being Bren,” Patterson finished.
“My lord, how big is this thing,” Casten asked in awe.
“Approximately five hundred meters long, and twenty meters in diameter. It will require its weight in fuel to even get it off the ground. The launch site is in a two square kilometre clearing, three kilometres from the outskirts of Ronan. Effectively the middle of nowhere. If we were to launch from High Command, like originally planned when it was still a small satellite, it would destroy this entire facility with its thrust alone. This is the key to Operation Endwar, this is what will allow us to communicate with the assault, and relay information and orders.
That is everything for today, we will meet again in two weeks, when HOPERISING launches. Borden will be sharing information on infantry available, and we will have some engineers to explain the new prototype technology were intending to use. Dismissed,” Patterson finished.
Phase One: Briefing - Chapter One
Briefing, Day One
Jekotian High Command, Conference Room Five, Ronan
June 27, 2985
“First and foremost, I would like to thank you all for coming here. I understand how difficult it must be leaving your soldiers on the front line under the command of another. I would like to open this meeting with some statistics about the past few years of this war. Patrick, please turn on the projector and start the slides,” High Commander Patterson said as he opened the meeting.
“Yes, sir,” he replied, and in seconds the auditoriums projector screen blazed to life. Seconds later, the visual feed initiated projecting pie graphs, bar graphs, point charts, raw data, and numbers. Each representative of different aspect of unit deployment and the kill to loss ratio for each.
“As you can see, on average, for every Brenodi unit killed, we lose one and a half units. At this rate, we will effectively run out of trained military units in eight years. We will effectively lose the war before then.
“What we are here for today is a solution, and not a simple one. Our top minds in High Command have concluded that our only hope at winning this war is an invasion, one the likes of this planet has never seen.”
As Patterson pauses to let everyone think, he notices someone with their hand raised.
“Ah, Lieutenant Commander Casten, you have a question?”
“Where will this invasion be targeted at? I have a feeling about this and I don’t like it at all,” she replied.
“Bren.” It was a simple answer, but immediately the room erupted in an uproar.
“Are you mad? There’s no way we will breach those defences!”
“This is unacceptable, it would be a slaughter!”
“We don’t stand a chance in hell, what are you up to?”
Once the room settled Patterson continued.
“This is our one and only hope, as grim as it may be, we cannot win this war any other way. No matter where else we attack, it will be a minor thorn in the Brenodi’s thigh. If we take the war to them, to their capitol, to their main command center, they will be in disarray. If we succeed, they will fall. The Brenodi’s biggest flaw is that unlike us, with Ronan in the heart of Jekotia, they put their capitol on the southern coast, where it can be reached by sea. No amount of defences can stop a full naval fleet.
“What I propose is the recall of all available unit, each and every one that can be spared, as well as the entire operational Jekotian fleet. This isn’t a little assault. This is our last hope to turn the tide of war. Our last chance for survival. Our only chance for survival.
“The operation, assuming it is successful, will take place in six phases. The first phase is this briefing and the readying of units. We must create effective battle plans for use in this operation.
“The second phase will consist of the mobilization of Jekotian forces. This will involve the rearmament of all warships, as well as outfitting unarmed vessels with anything that can be spared. We will also be pushing prototype field guns into full production, as well as experimental weapons systems, vehicles, engines, and armour, like the MPRG, Sidewinder, subzero fission reactors, and ABSRE armour plating. We will also be rearming and re-manning our sub-sea missile silos to full operation, crew, and payload status. I also want all of our spies alerted, and our best scouts outfitted with our best cloaking technology. All prisoners of war are to be executed. Ah yes, and my personal favourite. It would seem the new artillery platforms and AA trucks are ready for production. Oh, and one last thing I want him, Iota-63, thawed and outfitted now. He has alot to catch up on.
“We will meet again in a few days to discuss battle tactics and requisitioned units. Dismissed!”
Foreword
On October 18th, 2985, Jekotia launched the single largest military operation their planet will ever know, codenamed Operation Endwar. The diversion and mobilization of millions of soldiers and assets. The desperate attempt to turn the tide of a losing war. A final fight for survival, and the devastating failure.
What follows are the stories of the heroes of Jekotia and Bren. Soldiers that gave up everything for their nation, and went above and beyond the call of duty. Their triumphs, their failures, their victories, their losses, and their unwavering commitment to their nation. And to honour the Jekotian spirit flowing through this planet.
“Jekotia will never die. Our spirit is steel, our will stone. While we can be destroyed as a nation and a force, our people will always carry on the unwavering dedication of our nation. They will fight for our Jekotia, whether it is dead or alive, and be proud of their heritage. Why? Because we are the embodiment of hope, of steel spirit and of stone will. We refuse to die. We won’t die. We cannot die.”
-Unknown Jekotian Soldier
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