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War Upon the Waves

(This post was last modified: 02-25-2019, 10:51 AM by Parthenopias.)

Sea of Baal
Flagship Aegion

Commodore Artos was a man of few words. His stoic expression and dedication to the nation and his men was legendary among the fleets. He had passed up promotion twice much to the ire of the politicians in Troea. He preferred the position he had. The life on the seas was what called him to the navy many years prior and one that he didn't want to lose by becoming one of the bureaucratic admirals. Besides the Aegion was his ship and one he was not willing to just give up any time soon.

After putting on his uniform and heading to the mess for a cup of coffee he headed to the bridge. CIC would be second on his list to get some operational intelligence but the bridge would be first because he wanted to see the ocean for himself. Nothing reassured him like the ocean did, well that is other than his wife Leya. The woman wanted him to take the promotion so he could be back home with her and see their children more often. He would have if it was fifteen years prior when they were still actually adolescents and not the grown adults they were now. Regardless he sympathized with her wish to see one another more. That would in fact be the only thing Artos missed while away.

The Group was made up of three task forces with the flagship Aegion and her escorts forming the core. In all there were twenty five ships including five non-combat vessels to support the group’s supply needs along with one medical ship. A storm had caused a couple destroyers to be forced out and away from the formation. As of his quick briefing in the mess he had been informed they would rejoin the formation within a couple hours. One had minor issues with their engine they needed to fix which had delayed their rejoining. The second ship had rendered that one assistance.

“Officer on deck,” The room stood to attention till he waved his hand. Artos really didn’t like that overall believing it to be somewhat archaic.

“Status of the destroyers?” the question was directed at his second in command, Commander Litos murmured to a junior officer next to her before answering the Commodore’s question.

“Captain Verros of the Pelas reported in a half hour ago that they were on schedule to rejoin the fleet by this afternoon. He has noted that the communication system on the Dorion is down and will need to be repaired by our fleet tender once they rejoin the rest of us.” Artos scowled a bit as he did rather despise the situation but was glad that the Captain of the Pelas had rendered assistance to the Dorion.

“Any issues with IA vessels? We should be entering their nominal controlled area within a few hours I imagine.” Artos stated. The truth to the matter was that Parthenopian naval ships weren't exactly the most welcome in the Sea of Baal. The Cold War had been raging for decades and tensions were high due to several recent issues, not least the issues between Ara’den and Parthenopias.

“No sir,” the response was quick and orderly. Then came the muffled din of a distant explosion. At first Artos thought it was something else, then the room jumped to life as a distress signal was received from the Pelas.

“Under attack… unknown vessel… significant damage… Dorion lost… Ne-” the signal cut out followed by what sounded like another explosion.

“General quarters! Status report on the other ships? Get a rescue flight in the air now!” Artos barked. Crew scrambled about doing their jobs. The situation was tense. Two destroyers in unknown condition, the integrity of the fleet could be compromised and whether or not there were survivors was also in question. “Bring the fleet about and head to the last known coordinates of the two destroyers. Also send a communication to Fleet Command and let them know the situation.”

If you have any questions please don't hesitate to let me know! 
Prime Minister of Selene, RP Councillor and WA Delegate.


Fleet Command HQ
Troea, Troizen, Parthenopias

“Commodore Artos what is the state of the fleet?” The voice was firm yet calm. The situation however was far from that.

“Ma’am the situation is better now than it was yesterday. Sonar sweeps indicate there is no longer a submarine in the area. We will continue to monitor the situation more closely as we proceed back to the homeland. The Dorion and Pelas are total losses though we were able to recover their black boxes. Half the crew of the Pelas was rescued with about just under one third of the Dorion’s.” A rather grim report.

“Thank you Commodore. Keep us apprised of the situation as it develops and we’ll monitor your progress from here.” With that the call was terminated with an audible click. “I want hourly updates during the days until that fleet is home.”

The woman shuffled through the papers in front of her. Her uniform was a dark blue offset by her gold insignia. Four gold stars flanked by a pair of anchors on her shoulder boards. A crisp uniform and with her cap tucked underneath her arm she carried a briefcase and set out for the Archoncy to meet with Jessero.

A dismal rain settled across the capital. Winter was not the most ideal of seasons for those in the southern heartlands. Cold and wet with a nasty northern wind. The car pulled out and police escorts took up their positions in front and behind. The woman’s expression was stoic, she looked straight ahead and ignored her surroundings for the moment as she thought about the ongoing situation. Things were more grim than the weather.

Weeks prior several destroyers had been destroyed or critically damaged with large loss of life among the crew and nearby civilians. A major embarrassment and tragedy for the navy and one for the nation. Now to compound that and months of prior heightened tensions with Ara’den, two destroyers were sunk in the Sea of Baalbek in what many in the Naval Intelligence Community (NIC) were labeling as an attack. Unified Intelligence (UNI) had yet to confirm that and the Armed Forces Intelligence Community (ARFC) wanted to have a third party intelligence community confirm before they gave the confirmation.

The Archoncy was an imposing building in downtown Troea. While the majority of the city was still in a very classical appearance the Archoncy stood out. It towered above the park in front and next to the ocean. The structure was a striking mixture of white sandstone mixed with black and gold. Lining the circle drive were the flags of the states that made Parthenopias. A makeshift covered walkway was assembled on rainy days such as this.

“Admiral if you will come this way the Archon will meet you in the Command Room.” An aid said as soon as the woman stepped out of the car. Cap tucked neatly under her arm again and holding onto her briefcase that held various reports. They made their way through the oddly minimalist interior, her heels clacking against the stone floor. A couple of junior aides followed behind her and her guide. Slowly but with purpose they made their way to the room where the Archon and her National Security Council were waiting. The room itself was about six stories underground which required a short elevator ride.

Upon entering the room those in the military stood and the Archon stood to shake her hand. “Welcome Admiral Kalanos.” The woman said with both warmth and authority. She took her seat and so did Kalanos. Getting settled in the Admiral took out the various reports and began to pass them out to the people at the table. A large set of monitors were present around with varying things on them. One was tracking the progress of the Second Fleet while another was tuned to a local news station though it was muted, another was tuned to a Deneshi station, also muted.

The meeting carried on for three hours and went into painstaking detail about what was going on, what had happened to to the Dorion and Pallas in the Sea of Baalbek. Admiral Kalanos would depart the Archoncy after the meeting concluded with her orders. A group of destroyers and submarines were to depart as soon as they were ready to meet up with the Second Fleet on its way home so as to increase protection. Several contingents of marines were also to be made ready in the event that military action were to be taken against Ara’den in response to the attack on the Dorion and Palas.

Meanwhile communiques were to be sent to the Embassies in Messelia and Byzantium to bring the AU members up to speed on what was going on. It would also include a request for a formal meeting of the AU’s Security Council to meet within one week to discuss a united front strategy to the situation and to consider joint military action should the situation devolve. Secretary of State Corvinus was to be dispatched to Ara’den to bring an ultimatum to President Al-Reza in which democratic elections under the supervision of the IA and AU would take place within two months, Al-Reza’s resignation and the implementation of a caretaker government under her deputy. Finally reparations were to be paid not only for the three destroyers damaged and lost in the Port of Baalbek but also for the two lost in the sea of the same name. The sabres were rattling and pressure mounting.

If you have any questions please don't hesitate to let me know! 
Prime Minister of Selene, RP Councillor and WA Delegate.


Argentiánę Palace
Roitálę, Ardinat


A teacup fell to the floor. It was the fury of a hellish nightmare. Fear turned into anger. A hundred shards of flame...the tea was hot, anyway.

"Mistress, please!"

"Do you not comprehend, my noble servant? You have been at my side for quite some time...you should understand what this means!"

"Parthenian ships being attacked in the middle of nowhere, Mistress? How can that affect you and your plans?"

"How? The Artemian Union and the Iron Alliance may end up at war! And those Avengnons...knowing the weakness exposed in Meridia, they shall surely ask for an invasion to reclaim Tiguria! How foolish...how ridiculous!"

"Mistress, I have an idea..."

"What must you say to me, my noble servant?"

"Take them out"

Was he out of his mind? Attack the Avengnons?! That had to be a joke...

...Was it?

"I must apologize to you, Mistress, but I have been in contact with an Avengnon's servant..."

"Huh, what of it?"

"Come, Mistress..."

"The Count of Tolavérę is a closet democrat, and is eager to join you"


Luciánę stood up. She had a scheming smile in her face, and her eyes were filled with determination.

"Come now, my noble servant"

"What is it, Mistress?"

"We shall visit someone. Please, get my chauffer. We shall ride to Tolavérę"

"As you wish"

A ride of fate awaits them. A new destiny.

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