"Mono/Dialogue"

  'Inner thoughts'

  Narration

  [Message/communication apparatus]

  Date: Winter 1919 NWC or 646 AU.

  Location: Regalian Autarchy and outlying colonies.

  POV: Narration

  Consideration of arming the Arganean with modern equipment was shot down immediately by the Assembly with express assent of the Grand Autarch. Not only is there a fear of misuse, but the greatest fear is theft, which can subsequently lead to the bck market. With that perimeter in mind, it was deemed adequate to allow limited production of old equipment and non-modern foreign equipment confiscated from the war. Any sensitive hardware and budding software, if any, had been stripped away.

  There were concerns regarding the feasibility of pulling the 'museum piece' for service; others pointed out that it sounds wasteful and redundant compared to the amount that will be spent on retooling. Ground vehicle barely passed the motion, and that's fine; the problem is the air assets, let alone the naval ones.

  All that on top of Regalia in the middle of an industrial, infrastructural, and interconnected rebuilding effort (known as Order 25), enthusiasm to project power outside through direct military aid is unappealing. Normally, Umbral Incorporated would spearhead the bids for international intervention, but there was little to no mention of their involvement for the air force, only ground commitment.

  Speaking about the company, it is a hush-hush kind of company. Umbral Incorporated is an arms corporation directly owned by UPSO (Umbral Pace Security Organization), the very same company in control of arming the Grasdivi and Spesdec. This is a private venture owned by the Grand Autarch herself. Grasdivi and Spesdec are, categorically, paramilitary forces, but their ingrained presence made most forget their root and their infamous discipline reputation.

  Still, if they wish to prepare Arganea to be ready, some sort of concession and commitment will be needed. That's when a brilliant idea was concocted: there are a lot of civilian airlines that had been grounded and losing their ability to operate. Either the owner becomes a casualty or is simply bankrupt. So why don't they gather these instead of giving their currently unproven and politically unstable partner an air wing of jet fighters?

  It only took less than a week to compile a list of avaible airframes, and there's more than enough. 2.180 airframes, all props, had been listed and narrowed down to 40. This schematic eased the assembly's concern. They sure as hell can't be embroiled in another shouting match in the presence of their Great Leader, who often spends her time munching on a sandwich. Slowly but surely, and with mounting enthusiasm, the rearming process had been expedited with other Autarchs willingly pledging a collection of their smaller factories to the effort, mostly for ground equipment.

  A certain personage had commented something along the line of 'peer pressure is a bitch'. Opinion on this intervention had briefly become a topic of concern from both civilians and militaries, but the Autarch Assembly's spokesperson was quick the crify that the majority of the industrial capacity won't be rerouted for foreigners' war and remains domestically focused.

  Shipment of equipment had thus been routed towards Nova Eureka, and the supply line had stabilized greatly. Regalia is used to rebuild critical facilities and industry, and the advent of unusually potent nd recovery smooths the process.

  These cargo ships passed through budding colonies with popution swelling greater weekly. Nova Eureka and Nova Leuvelica were projected to cross one million émigrés in a year or two. Temperate climate, friendlier sea, and the ck of interdimensional incursion made these hardy people flourish.

  Settlement creation and its safety aren't that much of an issue; the colonists were trained and educated with basic military and engineering skills thanks to Regalian Militaristic Curricu. Confiscated weapons from NIIO and the Rebels had been mostly routed for these colonists to defend their new home.

  Of course, the colonists who shall act as militia in pce of Home Guards are the most trustworthy. These men and women are given nominal authority as the first advisor for the local community, and they are in charge of maintaining the local arsenal. Allocation of equipment is under standardization, but it is expected that there will be one rifle with two hundred ammunition for every sixth colonist.

  Nova Eureka is Regalia's westernmost autarchy and is in the middle of standardization. Military and Civilian factories are popping up like mushrooms, airports and harbors are flourishing alongside the shipbuilding industry from smaller companies that could not truly compete before or after the war. Those who filed bankruptcy left their old life and headed to Eureka, for that is the next chapter for prosperity and their best shot to regain their former life.

  Thus, Regalian Autarchy is entering its period of reconstruction with a positive trend, and it will only grow from there.

  Location: Private Woodnd, Umbral Pace, Magna Edelweiss, Regalian Continent.

  With a dignified trot of her Regalian Warmblood blue roan mare, the Grand Autarch enjoys her private time (enforced by Dr. Karel, she likes his frankness and thus complied) through after-meal horseback riding. Four Spesdecs on horseback are following her close behind, while Meredith fnked her on the left. This private, natural resort is located on a uniquely ft woodnd near Umbral Pace, and the second most heavily monitored section of the patial grounds.

  Her mare is a pureblood breed that was imported from overseas centuries ago, but the bloodline was maintained and cultivated to cope with Magna Edelweiss's often suffocating height. Rumors have it that this exact breed costs as much as a small Corvette; however, that remains baseless. The horse isn't overtly muscur, but it is tall and graceful.

  Regalian Warmblood has some reputation for being a retively successful racehorse, but it won't hold a candle to proper Victorian or Crusaderan Warmblood, which dominated horse racing. That being said, being made to acclimate to the scarcity of oxygen causes Regalian Warmblood to possess extraordinary resilience and stamina while maintaining a graceful bearing. Regalian Warmbloods were infamous as picky eaters and often refused to graze on low-quality grass, even if it killed them.

  There's a hunting rifle slung over the back of Meredith's shoulder. The Head Maid and the four Spesdecs ride the more modest but still expensive Targut Destrier, cultivated by Taisharagian's ethnic people, the Taraghoteii people, who retain some nomadic culture in the northernmost pin of Regalia and close to the North Regalian Sea.

  Unlike the prestigious Regalian Warmblood, Targut Destrier was a proper warhorse meant for robust and harsh situations on the battlefield. They are voracious eater. Their muscle mass, strong hind legs, and often temperamental nature made them perfect for an age where knights and men-at-arms reigned supreme. Nowadays, they are used as draft or livestock horses, with select views retained for military purposes.

  As the group passes over a bend, Cylene stops and outstretches her left arm towards Meredith. She slung the rifle off her back and inserted a .45-70 bullet into the chamber. Spesdecs fans out diagonally, giving their dy a space.

  Cylene received the rechambered rifle and brought the iron-sighted rifle towards her mark. She heaves a tiny wisp of breath... and pulls the trigger. The whip of a bullet crackled through the wind, and before long, a bird mid-flight had dropped dead after brushing over the mildly warm winter. As weird as that sounds.

  One of her bodyguards swung off their saddle and brought the dead bird for the Grand Autarch's inspection. It looks like a hawk, but the underwing possesses a meatier flesh and is not as fluffy as Edelweiss Zenith, a hawk with a purplish wingtip on the otherwise silvery snow avian.

  Cylene inspects the hawk and finds a bullet hole, dead center at its neck, ruining its windpipe. "I should not have procured .45-70, the game was ruined." Despite her cim of disappointment, the Grand Autarch's expression remains ft and almost bored-looking. The Spesdec stores the game in their saddlebag when Cylene nudges them with her chin.

  "Your marksmanship was superb as always, Lady Cylene." Cylene exhaled from the compliment, vapor melting onto the cold wind. "Fttery gets you nowhere. I was born different, and so I should have been better than this." Meredith did not relent. "You already are better. There were reports of other Elders with poor showing when they led the war at the front."

  "If all of us are born with both voice and vainglory, Regalia would have been finished ages ago." Cylene handed her rifle back to Meredith, who gratefully accepted it with a smile, and her bodyguards fell in line once more. "I doubt it, my Grand Autarch. There were many with your galntry and fiery charisma, but there's only one Cylene Renoir that I was acquainted with."

  "Very amusing." The group continues their leisurely trot, with a few stops here and there whenever they see wild buck, deer, and elk. Many are natives of Regalia, but tely there have been report of extinct animals that shows themselves from time to time. There are a few on the list that were considered hazardous, one of them being an Aramoran, a rge snake the size of Titanoboa that was to be hunted to extinction if need be.

  Reservists and hunters are scouring the nd. In fact, there are several squads of Spesdecs infantry with a special purpose combat system keeping a rge net around the six of them. These soldiers are given express orders to shoot anything that could harm Cylene dead. Trespassing this far will also be subjected to immediate lethal response. Theoretically, it is impossible to breach the Old Pace's defensive network, but reality often rejects theory, much less wishful hypotheticals.

  As Cylene enjoys her simple hunt and rexation, she ended it a few minutes ter after her wristwatch arm's reminder. Truthfully, she can do whatever the hell she wants when she is at the top as an authoritarian figure with a very good public perception. Such things as 'ethics' are moot when people worship the ground she walked upon.

  Thankfully, she doesn't want to sck off when there are still so many problems to solve. Thus, she shall sy an unbeatable foe; her paperwork galntly. Soon, the Grand Autarch is back at her castle high up in the mountain, ready to reign over the realm of men with a stroke of her pen.

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  Or that was the idea.

  "Hmm... What an odd sight..." Cylene's disappointed sigh was both puzzlement and exasperation at the view of her uncluttered desk. For months, she had been grappling with paperwork that never ceases, and at times, piles up so high she works until the dead of the night. To the consternation of her many, many patial staff.

  Meredith is a step behind her, the Head Maid's face contrasted with her dy's frowning. Meredith had been with her long enough that she could decipher her dy's usually aloof face for each minuscule change with moderate success.

  "I daresay it is about time, Lady Cylene. Lack of urgent paperwork is proof that our nation's crisis has begun to abate." The Grand Autarch wasn't convinced, turning her face (closed eyes per usual) at her other maids and some butlers who wore the same polite, friendly expression. "Questionably lenient; far too easy even. Cease with this joke, I require no coddling." The maids and butler shift uneasily; Meredith's smile wavered a tad.

  "My Grand Autarch... um... You had been poring through... six months' worth of paperwork..." Her voice grew fainter, admiration and terror slipping into each of her sylbles. "... This st week?" Cylene's eyes were closed as usual, but there was an intriguing twitch at one corner of her lips. "Um... no, just this one before your lunch break..."

  "... Then what are you waiting for? Surely there's an occasion requiring my attention? Or the very least, worthy of my time?"

  "Forgive me, my dy, but I am afraid there's no more documents to process... h-how about golf? I am sure that-"

  "Don't waste my time with that rubbish." No one knows why Cylene despises golf so much. "T-The Ranges mayhap?" Meredith's sweat is pouring down her back, seeing Cylene's knitted brows of abject disapproval. If it were a few months ago, Meredith would have gotten tackled again, but thankfully, that's in the past. Unfortunately, she needs to think fast on who or what-.

  "T-The governor, my dy! We have yet to visit him; he had been doing a fine work, and this will be of great interest to you! A fastidious worker, capable bureaucrat, and meticulous man. He's instrumental for ensuring the Former Capital always has more than enough food supplies for the residents!" Cylene's brows rexed, and there's a more noticeable curl on the corner of her lips.

  "Terrific, let's visit my governor. Touring the continent, and yet I neglected my most fastidious servant? Such a failure on my part." Cylene had already exited her office; her bodyguards and staff were stunned. "A-At once, Your Grace!" Meredith sighed internally, relieved and a bit guilty.

  There are apparently a lot of problems. Generally positive problems, but problems nonetheless.

  Whenever Cylene visited a pce, many of the locals would work themselves to exhaustion. Apparently, there have been rumors that Cylene worked 20 hours a day processing documents, which is true, albeit only 16 hours a day. Her feat was possible because she is an Elder, but Regalians are stronger than normal humans to begin with.

  Either from shame, a need to prove themselves, or people idolizing her conduct too much, the people emute the leader. Production is soaring, and recovery speeds up, patriotic pride balloons, and the people really stop compining quietly about rationing in the most affected urban area. Her interest in listening to her people's lives is a show of great consideration that she is there to alleviate their plight to the best of her ability.

  Her enthusiasm to travel revitalizes the demining process further, because nobody knows where she will show up next, only that she did. Even demobilized soldiers enthusiastically throw themselves into these thankless works if it means they can contribute something to her safety. Colonization effort was further propelled by the consciousness of those who have less that they can provide better for their country by going to the frontier. It is a rather morbid point of view if you scrutinize it hard enough, but no one is compining about a lesser resource strain in a single region or domicile.

  All these came at the cost of potential long-term harm, namely, human resources.

  There's that problem about Cylene's safety. Not from physical violence, but from general danger pguing the continent in recovery. The Ministry of Health was begging on its knees for Meredith to please, somehow, stop the Grand Autarch from traveling to a region with NBC hazards. The Ministry was so terrified that should anything happen to their very energetic Grand Autarch, the whole nation would be thrown into chaos.

  Forget their necks; should even a slight cough afflict the Grand Autarch, their whole department will be under fire.

  The problem also came from Regalian's rejuvenated spirit. This eagerness to not disappoint someone who yet again led their country to survival regardless of circumstances meant people are working twice or thrice as hard. Death from exhaustion is almost a weekly occurrence, especially among those who have lost too much and only have Regalian Autarchy as their sole dogma. To them, dying so that this country that they loved so much could prosper is a fair trade. It is fanaticism on a national scale.

  Colonization spree and drive had overwhelmed the newly formed Colonial Development and Resettlement Department was swarmed with applicants, spiking from a few hundred a day to thousands, then tens of thousands. The test report shows that no less than 20 million residents have applied to be sent abroad and cultivate the inhabited nds that have been cimed as proper territory. The department became the fastest growing and one of the busiest, eclipsed only by the Ministry of Health and the Ministry of Domestic Affairs, which are responsible for the continental rebuilding effort.

  This spike had exhausted the bureaucrats whose logistical war had been renewed.

  Cylene intervened in this conundrum and urged the people that the best way they can serve their country is to stay alive and prosper. Dying will, in fact, be problematic for the battered country. There's a written notice that everyone, except for ex-rebels, is obligated to work only 10 hours a day at maximum. Penalty will be counterintuitive, so Cylene instead forms a lottery system where the best-behaved Regalian will be grouped and announced for a chance to have twice the ration for that week, plus a generous portion of ingredients usually gracing the table of the Umbral Pace's guests.

  Cylene never explicitly mentioned if it was forbidden to resell the delicacy, so there's a catch. Predictably, though, most will rather keep it to themselves, and any attempt to steal it will be harshly punished as unpatriotic behavior, and on the level of treason to that of rebels. Ignore several Grasdivis that just so happen to be on the scene; they're there on another business.

  Feeling bad for them, Meredith threw the Public Officials of Magna Edelweiss under the bus.

  'Sorry, Anton, I'll treat you to a whole-course dinner after this.' Mentally apologizing to the man who was thrown under the bus, she smiles wryly. 'Well, the people are happy having a leader who cares.' Then, her expression hardened into sheer disapproval, seeing the staff freezing like that. "Arrange for escorts and communicate with the governor, please." Thus, the pace erupted into chaos, and the cause of said chaos is already skipping (metaphorically) ahead.

  The woman urging her people not to die from exhaustion is a workaholic herself. Hypocritical.

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  Location: Special Purpose Zone, Nova Eureka.

  On the easternmost edge of the Arganean's Special Purpose Zone lies a military encampment already busy with activities right as the sun crests over the horizon. Men and women who had been on the run are now brandishing the more modern and capable weaponry of their test benefactor. They no longer wear the cumbersome pte armor and helm with sword, spear, and shield; now they are wearing combat fatigue made of fabric and a steel helm while carrying rifles, submachine guns, machine guns, and etcetera.

  Standard apparel and fatigue would be an SIH Mod.22 (Standard, Infantry, Headgear – Model 22), green and khaki stripped fatigue that is the SIU Mod.09 (Standard, Infantry, Uniform – Model 09), 40 lb (24 kg) backpack, the green and khaki waterproof and corrosive resistant SIF Mod.17 (Standard, Infantry, Footwear – Model.17), radio, navigational equipment, writing complements, personal aid kits, and etcetera.

  Banner formation had been abolished for the more modern and configurable structure that Regalia had taught them, but with a twist. As their manpower is limited, the current organization has only reached battalion level. One battalion consists of five companies, one command ptoon, and one to four complementary ptoons to provide the battalion with extra options at its disposal.

  One company consists of six squads of twelve for a total of seventy-two, with the remaining eight divided into four two-man teams who act as scouts on lighter dirt bikes or all-terrain vehicles. These scouts are armed with a rifle with a scope, binocurs, an SMG, and such equipment. They may operate more independently ahead of the main column at the cost of severe danger.

  A squad consists of twelve infantrymen and is divided into three four-man fire teams, and they are allotted one APC each for transport and support. These twelve infantrymen are reguted as follows:

  Squad Leader: At minimum a Sergeant, and the SL acts as the primary leadership on the field for their men. These men are afforded an SMG with five magazines, a pistol with four magazines or a revolver with just as many reload, binocurs, a survival knife, two anti-personnel grenades, two smoke grenades, and one fre gun with four charges. This SMG was given designation as RSrP-1 (Rapid, Short-range, Pistol – Number One).Assistant Squad Leader: At minimum, a Corporal who shares an identical ToE with the squad leader, but traded their fre gun for more smoke grenades. Assistant Squad Leader, my step up in the command, and I am already leading a fire team.Grenadier: At minimum a Lance Corporal and acts as the most junior fire team leader. Their ToE is simir to the SL, but they traded their fre gun and anti-personnel grenades for a 35 or 40-mm grenade uncher with eight to twelve HE rounds.Squad Designated Marksman: Any rank, but typically Private First Css. Armed with a scoped rifle with eight rifle clips, a pistol with two magazines, a survival knife, two anti-personnel grenades, and two smoke grenades. This soldier may act as a spotter and thus be attached to the first fire team for the most part, but not an ironcd rule. The rifle is the RM570 redesignated as LrIR-1 (Long-range, Infantry, Rifle – Number One), minus the bayonet.Squad Anti-Tank Specialist: Any rank. Armed with a reusable rocket uncher and an SMG with four magazines, a survival knife, they forgo anti-personnel grenades and smoke grenades for four to six munitions. It is currently doubtful why this role would be necessary, but existences of a siege engine or monster convince the skeptical Regalian that this will come in handy. Worst comes to worst, a squad has an extra point man. The AT Launcher was an old Maximian design and re-designated as PRL-1 (Portable, Rocket, Launcher – Number One).Squad Automatic Rifleman: Any rank. Armed with the squad automatic weapon, usually an LMG with two or three extra belts of ammo, a pistol with maybe two or three magazines, a survival knife, and they forgo anti-personnel grenades and smokes. Due to their importance in suppression, they are often part of the second fire team. The LMG is the UFSNE one and rechambered to shoot 7.62x51mm instead of 30-30.Medic: Any rank. Armed with a LrIR-1 rifle with five clips, a pistol with two magazines, a survival knife, and carrying the most medical equipment, and is the most important part of the squad after the SL. They carry no anti-personnel grenades, only two smoke grenades.Combat Engineer: Any rank, but preferably a Lance Corporal. Tasked with the most destructive anti-fortification equipment, they are the pickaxe of the squad. Armed with a shotgun with forty shotgun shells, a pistol with three magazines, an edged shovel, two satchel charges, six anti-personnel grenades, and two smoke grenades.Rifleman: Any rank, but almost always a Private. Armed with LrIR-1 rifle with ten to sixteen rifle clips, a pistol with two magazines, a survival knife, three anti-personnel grenades, one smoke grenade, and extra equipment if need be.Rifleman: Any rank, but almost always a Private. Armed with LrIR-1 rifle with ten to sixteen rifle clips, a pistol with two magazines, a survival knife, three anti-personnel grenades, one smoke grenade, and extra equipment if need be.Rifleman: Any rank, but almost always a Private. Armed with LrIR-1 rifle with ten to sixteen rifle clips, a pistol with two magazines, a survival knife, three anti-personnel grenades, one smoke grenade, and extra equipment if need be.Rifleman + Ammo bearer: Any rank, but usually given to the most junior of the Privates. They carry a standard loadout like the previous riflemen, but this ammo bearer is... well... an ammo bearer. They carry the heavier rucksack bag, with a total weight that rivals the more specialized squad member. This came with a caveat that they are not expected to fight as much, and instead support the Squad Automatic Riflemen, usually by feeding ammo, as they spit fire down range.This standardization fits like a glove as warfare refocused on gunpowder and any ranged skirmishes. Modern SMG and Rifles are the new herald for this godforsaken war.

  Stables for horses and beasts of burden, plus the carriages, were repced with a motor pool where armored personnel carriers, medium tanks, self-propelled artillery, trucks, and jeeps reside. Only the st few batches require repainting with proper Arganean's dragon; the gold and white paints weren't used to maintain camoufge.

  The APCs are perfect for cross-country performance, and their armored skin is much more reliable against projectiles and might be able to prevent catastrophic damage from archaic cannonballs. Most of the APCs were actually Maximian BrTr-40, but the heavier 14.5mm and the smaller 7.62mm were exchanged with twin 12.7mm HMG, and the turret was exchanged with a circur gun shield. This decision was made in consideration of logistics. Arganea commissioned this APC under the name of LGATr-1 (Lightweight, Ground, Armored, Transport - Number One) or Legatron for brevity.

  Ten medium tanks will be the primary steel fist, crewed by four, armed with a 76mm cannon, secondary armaments of .50 HMG and 7.62mm LMG, top speed of 30mph (48km/h), seven inches thick armor at the front, and its legendary reliability made the old workhorse a thing of beauty. This old tank was UFSNE's museum piece that was easily brought back to life by the idling industry as factories retool for consumer goods progress. Arganean named their first tank ZT-1 (Zorphal Tank-Number One), or Zeton, in honor of their King.

  Said King had expressed disapproval, but he retracted his statement because of popur sentiment.

  Next would be the SPA, but because of the difficulty in training, time constraint, and no suitable museum piece to revive, these SPAs will be crewed by E.I.R.I PMCs, and are the only foreign auxiliary ptoon directly subordinated under Arganean High Command. They are the most modern and often serve as a topic for amazement from their lesser comrades. These are Regalian MIT-6A3 (Mechanized, Irregur, Tactical-Number 6, Augmentation mark 3).

  Supporting the advance and counter-battery would be done by four self-propelled artillery armed with 120mm cannon capable of striking up to 40 km (24.8 miles), crewed by four, with robust tracks, speed of 38 mph (60km/h) on road or 20 mph (32km/h) off road, and quite a reliable armor for SPA. These artillery on tracks had been battle-proven and will be protected accordingly to avoid unwanted detriment.

  Gahad didn't start as a proper combat vehicle; it was based on a ground-to-air surveilnce support vehicle. I.e., a radar carrier. It was just rge enough to accommodate innovation, and the radar was the most expensive part anyway. Take that radar out, kit in some armor, and a gun? You get a very modur vehicle by complete accident. M223 was slowly phased out because of this.

  Trucks and jeeps given to the Arganean are oddly the more modern versions because it was deemed not sensitive enough to warrant a downgrade. These trucks and jeeps consist of a Maximian 4x4 military truck capable of hauling two tons of cargo, and the jeeps that are run-of-the-mill as far as everything goes. Maximian vehicles were chosen simply because there's a lot in storage. Arganea commissioned these as HTG-1 (Heavyweight, Transport, Ground-Number One) and LTG-1 (Lightweight, Transport, Ground-Number One), or Hone and Lone.

  Land assets aside, there's a small runway next to a rge hangar that used to house Regalian military airborne transport. This runway is fnked by two rows of turboprop aircraft; the roundel isn't Regalian but a recently created Arganean roundel.

  There are six other propeller-driven aircraft, but these are unarmed, and four among them are much rger. These propeller-driven aircraft were taken from defunct civilian cargo companies and repurposed for military operations because these aircraft had been extensively modified to resist sudden dimensional anomalies. Because of manpower shortage, the airmen are Regalian part-timers. The Jets had been dismissed from armament entry because of the costly fuel efficiency and complexity.

  The interim-fighter aircraft possesses four reconfigurable hardpoints, two closest to the airframe rated at 500 lb. (227 kg) rate with the other two at 240 lb. (110 kg) underneath wings, respectable range, reliable performance, and STOL capability, making it be choice aan s interim fighter. The internal seat for an extra passenger had been modified for auxiliary storage, but was more limited. There's also the concern of flying from an aircraft carrier; thus, the list was narrowed down significantly. Arganea names them as LiF-1 (Lightweight, Interim, Fighter - Number One) or Lifon.

  Unarmed utility aircraft consist of two pnes with twin piston-engine propellers and low wings for reconnaissance and light supply drops. These two were requisitioned from a defunct Continental Airlines because of the war and the owner's subsequent demise. These unarmed propellers have just enough range, capability, and cargo space.

  The other four are once again taken from the Grand Autarch's private collection and copied. These rge transport aircraft are aerial workhorses possessing twin propellers, and the aircraft is capable of carrying a whole ptoon of 40 or a rge volume of supplies. The small props aircraft is LTAU-1 (Lightweight, Transport, Air, Utility - Number One). The rger transports are HTAU-1 (Heavyweight, Transport, Air, Utility - Number One).

  All these simpler nomenctures were adopted because Regalia had hinted at modernization and rexation of trade, should Arganea prove a trustworthy partner. Besides, no one has a really good naming sense around them.

  Lighter gun empcements could be seen in and out of the armories, and they range from a simpler machine gun on a tripod to anti-air guns and field howitzers. These will be utilized when Zorphal has recimed much of his territory and reforms the army, a daunting task for sure, but that's a problem for the future King if he wins the initial phase.

  Mechanics are moving from and fro to maintain and keep the heavy military hardware at tip-top shape. The supporting corps, which includes mechanics, military interpreters, JTACs, combat liaison, and more, is mostly made up of Regalian specialists because logistics shall be handled primarily by E.I.R.I., and there's a lot of Regalian looking for work on top of modern equipment familiarity. Their equipment is noticeably better, but these servicemen will stay out of sight whenever possible.

  Arganea is mustering and training all able-bodied they have, so this arrangement suits them well enough. That is not to say that they are ignorant; the vehicle crews had been given expedited basic training on maintenance and field repair. While muted by now, concerns about how much Regalian Autarchy shall be involved in the upcoming war were a topic of interest.

  Few Arganean and Helicarian fears that their benefactor could easily become the next master. Regalian technological might will be enough to subdue the whole of Helicar should they choose to. Regalian Autarchy's intense colonization effort made the possibility all too real.

  However, Zorphal and Narina had spent most of their time quelling such sentiment, assuring the popuce and skeptics that the Regalian are their benefactors. Even at the worst, the refugees are treated much better than back in their homend, and the racism is comparatively milder from the more hostile Regalian living on the isnd.

  This attempt was modestly successful, which is better than nothing. That made it easier for the Regalian who dislike them to at least look the other way, and the Arganean is all too eager to pretend no one was looking at them like a bunch of savages.

  As his new normal settles in, the construction of a military facility for Arganean use could come without a hitch. Modern building materials have been a cheap commodity for internal development and inter-isnd trade. Mass production will push standardization, and standardization is cheaper.

  At one of the checkpoints, a convoy of five trucks full of supplies crossed through after simple but thorough checks. The drivers are Regalian personnel who were hired as part-time colborators by Neumann, stimuting the economy further. Their destination would be the storage warehouse closer to the center, where a group of waiting soldiers stops pying cards when they arrive.

  The first truck parked near the gated entrance, the ramp was lowered, and men began hauling cargo off the truck. "What's in the box?" A female soldier with beastly ears hefted a box off the truck, her NCO shrugged before answering. "No idea, logi folks have been muttering about good old matchsticks." She snorted at the expnation, then one of her fellow soldiers helped her carry it off to the storage. "Heh, Imperial arquebus that gave us hell was actually archaic by Arganean standard."

  "Fair, but I heard rumors of our compatriots shall be armed with modern rifles as well." His words don't reach them as they haul the box inside. The NCO turned around with his revolver, leaving his holster, when someone tapped his shoulder. "Heavens! Can you not do that?" His frown and surprise melt away, seeing a little girl with several smaller ammo boxes in her hands. "Oh, you must be part of the Helpers Brigade, aye?"

  "Y-Yes milor- I mean, sir! I-I am here to b-bring t-t-t-these..." Her voice is hoarse while stuttering with symptoms of mild exertion; his brows creased at her response, but she kept his smile on. "Easy it up, I won't bite ya. Well, let me take it off of ye, many thanks girly, and here, treat yourself." He takes her ammo boxes before handing over his rationing card in exchange.

  The girl gasped, but he was already walking back towards the storage. She stood there as more soldiers arrived to carry and store the incoming shipment. The girl watched him go, her eyes briefly turning to a different direction, then she melted back into the throng of humanity moving about in preparation for yet another war.

  As soldiers offloaded supplies into the storage, a commanding tent right in the middle was alive with its own activity. Staff Officers and Regalian agents are moving in and out to exchange information, update the operational situation, and control the steady flow of movement for men and materiel. Inside the tent is a partitioned room attended by at least two dozen or so people.

  Chief among them is Field Marshal Gallenor as he stands with an ornate commanding stick in hand. "We're expecting spring to blossom in two weeks, according to our benefactors." Gallenor's preamble entices the attention of everyone around him. He no longer wears his old knight pte armor, only the gorget that acts as a signifier because it fits well with his helm, but an old Regalian Army uniform from the 18th Global War, with his sword strapped on his belt.

  Around him would be the Commander-in-Chief and de jure King-in-Exile, King Zorphal. He wears his high-ranking BDU but with a translucent crown above his brows, an object of fascination for Regalian researchers and locals. It still shocks him that Regalia has knowledge of magic, if very abstract at times, but prefers not to pursue it too deeply in exchange for a supreme scientific edge.

  His people had protested firmly about his joining the fray, but he argued back that his popurity as a King is only slightly better than Ionie's. Their assent and support mattered less than reality; he would have to fight his way back to the throne beside his men, or he could renounce his crown to save everyone else the trouble. With that ultimatum, his people reluctantly backed down.

  His Second-in-Command and Commander of the Land Army Air Wing, Colonel Narina. Her Air Wing consists of two full squadrons of 12 propeller aircraft and one half-strength squadron of mixed utility aircraft; she herself piloted one due to the scarcity of manpower. The native manpower is less than fifteen percent compared to the airmen who maintain her Air Wing.

  She wears a rather eclectic mix of Archmagi robe coupled with general BDU, which was rather jarring at times. Yet she insists that she must look the part, much to the Regalian amused chagrin. Her scepter is humming brighter compared to months ago, a showcase of her expedient recovery. Narina's eyes had been glued onto her training manual that she had memorized and learned from, but she couldn't help herself.

  The 1st Royal Dragoon Division commander, Brigadier General Luanaya, but her command only consists of one motorized battalion with 400 infantry and 50 tank crews divided into five companies, one command ptoon numbering 20 personnel, one combat support ptoon numbering 40 personnel, two auxiliary reserve ptoons numbering 80 personnel. So her Division is merely a formality at this stage. Each company will be afforded two tanks, while the SPAs will be part of a support artillery ptoon to allow greater coordination and synchronization. All in all, she leads 600 men, with at least 1/6 being E.I.R.I. PMCs. This amounted to no less than one hundred vehicles at their disposal.

  She shifts uneasily on her seat, feet tapping the ground with her arms crossed, her eyes sharp, and there's a palpable sense of impatience in her very soul. She wears the same combat uniform as the rest of her men, but her steel breastpte is superimposed over her Kevr vest, creating a rather intriguing cross between modernity and knightly chivalry. Her swords were strapped on her belt, while a pair of pistols hung on her harness.

  1st Company commander, Major Varguthas. The most prominent part besides his age would be a pair of horns crowning the side of his head, reminiscent of an auroch. He is the tallest amongst the assembled personnel, and there's a visible sve brand sticking out above his colr. He was captured and held in a comatose state by that bastard Count, but he was nursed back to health is all too eager to show why he was not the Iron Earl for nothing.

  Varguthas is a rank higher than her fellow Company Commander, so he can serve as Luanaya's Second-in-Command should there be complications on the field. This arrangement was expressly supported by the Royal Dragoons.

  2nd Company Commander, Captain Cadorn. He is a brown-haired man who is, by all accounts, average was a run-of-the-mill knight, neither muscur nor tall, but he is Gallenor's trusted friend when he held the wall during that desperate siege time and again. Cadorn acclimates expertly from sword to guns, and from knightly charge to suppressing fire. He refused to be an advisor and thus enlisted for frontline duty; he lost too much to care about his own life.

  3rd Company Commander, Captain Petriane. She is the odd one among them... An auburn-haired and tomboyish woman, roguish beauty, well-liked by everyone, even Regalian, sunny disposition... and a vengeful grin, trademark of an Acadionish. She despises what has become of her Kingdom, and she has grudges to settle with the Emperor himself. Her existence caused concern from Neumann, but Olga favors her for obvious reasons.

  4th Company Commander, Captain Oxhorn. He is regarded as a silent man, content with listening and adapting his command based on the situation at hand. He is perhaps the most ordinary in terms of weapon handling skill, and his physique is only above average. The white-haired captain's enhanced senses and his tactical aptitude made him the most obvious choice aside from being part of the General Staff. He should have been part of it, but manpower is scarce.

  5th Company Commander, Captain Exa, who is the youngest of the Company Commanding Officers. She was supposedly staying as Gallenor's bodyguard, but the girl possessed keen insight and instinct that she was fast-tracked from an oathspear (a prestigious title often mistakenly construed as mere ceremonial guards) into a proper officer. She finished her education so quickly and received a very good mark from her Regalian instructors, faster than even Luanaya.

  Technical Major Dona acts as intermediary between E.I.R.I. and A.R.A.F. (Arganean Royal Armed Forces). She had been moving between Helicar and Nova Eureka and was appropriately compensated with a promotion, extra stipend, and more added benefits. Other attendees range from Sergeant Majors to Sergeants who will become the arms and legs of their COs.

  "Thus, I announce the commencement of the first military council." Polite cpping soon follows his decration; their attention is rapt upon the Field Marshal. "By the authority vested in me, Brigadier General, what is the readiness of our forces?" Luanaya sprang onto her feet and made her report.

  "The 1st Royal Dragoons are ready for deployment at any notice. Weaponry familiarization had been moving smoothly, and we had satisfactorily finished the expedited basic training. I am confident we won't shame His Majesty the King." He nodded and allowed her to sit.

  "What's the status of our Air Force?" He turns to Narina, who answered while rising gracefully. "Arganean Pilots had been able to score victories in the air against our instructors, although it was still lopsided." She covers her lips as a giggle slips past; she doesn't mind being bested, and it was a joyous improvement after all.

  "Regardless, the instructors deemed our pilots able enough in their transition from biological weapon to mechanical one. We should have no issue unless extraordinary circumstances arise." She paused briefly. "If I may add, we have one prodigious pilot. The pilot is Second Lieutenant Lienbarth, who had scored four victories and three draws out of ten dogfights compared to other pilots, including myself, whom hath struggled for even one aerial victory."

  "Was that true?" He turned his attention to Dona, who nodded. "Indeed, Field Marshal. Second Lieutenant Lienbarth had performed most admirably during the st training session. He was even the first person who completed the carrier nding procedure on his first try after familiarization and school theoretical learning." Other officers began whispering while Lienbarth himself puffed out his chest; a little bit of pride is a non-issue as long as morale was maintained.

  "I am gddened by your affirmation." After several minor inquiries about the state of equipment and uniformity, he started the primary topic.

  "My fellow Arganean, I shall illuminate the prospect for combat and objectives for the upcoming Liberation of Our Homend." He points his stick towards the Isle of Fallfiore. "First, we are expected to link up with our fellow countrymen here and relieve their pressure, but not on the isnd itself." He drags the stick onto the opposite shore.

  "The Imperial will try again, they will. Our allies' spies and vanguards had corroborated the increasing activity of Halciadonish Armies despite the harsh winter. They are getting agitated while our compatriots' guerril warfare drains their resources and the lives of our people. It is deemed a high probability for the second attempt when spring arrives to subdue General Raegova and his depleted force." He pointed to an open sea about 75 miles (121 kilometers) away from the mainnd, where a miniature aircraft carrier was pced.

  "This will be our staging ground. Regalia prepared four heavy nding docks for our use, and there will be naval escorts. We have only a bit more than five hundred men ready to conduct the operation. Our aim will be the establishment of a beach. This is the topmost priority." Then he points to Arganea's capital.

  "Sooner or ter, the Pretender will be forced to mobilize her reconstituted Northern Army and y waste to her own countrymen; her own people. Mounting political pressure won't hold growing sentiment, even with the Prince-Regent's direct oversight." He pced three infantry miniatures, one winged miniature, and several smaller miniatures to represent auxiliary units such as handgunners and knights. "We expect close to 20.000, two-thirds being infantry. The advent of spring will hamper her mustering."

  "I posit an idea where she will not split her army like the Imperials did. Even partially, and without the Crown upon her brows, it deemed her a worthy contender of its boon. She will have the express advantage should we dawdle with consolidation for far too long."

  "Were these information credible?" Zorphal interceded with a question, and the Field Marshal nodded. "It is, Your Excellency. She cannot sit idly; noise from the Imperial Senate has been cmoring for her to get her immediate border secured. Should she refuse, they will move. The Emperor had been lenient, but he had a reputation for being reasonable; he could not refuse them for long."

  "I see, please continue." There's a tinge of complicated emotion flitting through his gaze, but the King sat stoically otherwise. "Where was I? Ah, yes, mustering. Discontent, famine, and war weariness will hamper her choices and limit her movement. It is a surprising development; her influence had been waning." A few of the attendees listened raptly with keen interest, but their lips remained mum.

  Ionie's fatal fw lies in her betrayal and Kinsying. Kinsying had been losing significance, and nowadays is seen as the same as general murder, which is still a heinous crime. What caused the resurgence of this extremely negative taboo and stigma was the betrayal. Arganea had been holding the Empire at the Western Frontline; the Crown was the ultimate shield against the nigh-unstoppable Imperial war machines.

  Then Ionie committed the betrayal. Killing her father, uncle, and her older twin brother and sister. Zorphal was about to be added to that list, but Luanaya's bdes were much faster, Narina's fears were prophetic, and the three fled the capital with a handful of the loyalists. Sudden loss of the current Monarch and owner of the Crown made the line crumble; the Imperial Army Corps flooded the frontline with superior firepower and strategy.

  Her choice, the suddenness, and the inexplicability of her act eternally vilified her in the annals of history. Still, some are grateful to her. Their sons and daughters aren't being sent west to fight a futile war. Western Arganea was incorporated, Northern Arganea was granted a protectorate, Central Arganea was occupied, Southern Arganea was devastated, and Eastern Arganea suffered. Two out of five were spared from the fmes of war at the cost of three.

  "Ideally, we should force our misguided countrymen to surrender. Arganea has lost too much; they should return home safely. However, should they pose a significant threat and endanger our cause, then lethal force application will be necessary." His gaze hardened.

  "This army won't be an army fully made of chartans, bandits, and thieves... these are good men. I believe most of them are, and I believe they wish for no further bloodshed. So, good men will die. This is a fact, I will not blind any of you to the reality of the upcoming war." He stands tall, eyes surveying his comrades who stare him back in the eyes. No one spoke a word, but their assent to the reality of suffering that shall return is enough for him.

  "Moving on, our first operation will be given the codename Operation Hightide. To reiterate, we shall establish the beachhead on three separate points, codenamed Eline, Raline, and Desline." There's a flicker of bitterness and shame from chosen names, all (except Dona), the Regalian present was confused, but they know better than inquire for something so personal. The beachheads chosen are the narrowest strip possible, allowing Arganea to concentrate its firepower with little fear of getting fnked.

  "There will be four scenarios. First one where we nded unopposed, of which we will immediately secure the beachhead and protect the Regalian engineers in creating dry-docks. Then we shall form contact with General Raegova and his loyalists, from there I deemed the operation a success. The second scenario is when hostility was decred by combat and resistance from the Pretender or the Imperial army. In such a scenario, we shall dig in and wear them down with withering firepower. Remember, ammunition is not a concern, only that we are not getting swallowed by the tide. That's the essence, we will be outnumbered, but we must stand against the Hightide."

  "I believe from here on you may have the comprehensive operational status." He turned to Narina, and the Fleshmancer took the floor to expin the arrangement of her Air Wing. "Our Air Force will be staged upon an aircraft carrier, the RNS Fastidious, and provide CAP and CAS when necessary. The 1st and 2nd Royal Assault Squadron will be divided into three flights of four pnes each." She pces her winged pawn on the projected carrier position.

  "1st Squadron shall be codenamed as Thunder, and their callsign shall be Thunder One through Twelve. Thunder One, Five, and Nine shall be their respective flight's lead. 2nd Squadron will be given the codename Rain, with the same callsign assignment and structure as the first squadron. Any question?"

  Exa raised her hand. "What are the payloads and SoP of Thunder and Rain Squadrons?"

  "Both squadrons carry the same loadout of two .50 cal gunpods with five hundred rounds each, and a pair of 55 mm (2.2 inch) rocket pods, each pod containing 16 for a total of 32 rockets. Thunder and Rain Squadrons' SOP is to provide CAP and CAS in concert with JTAC. Was that satisfactory?"

  "Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am." She sat back down, one hand fishing out her notebook while the other began jotting down notes. "We shall provide aerial superiority first and foremost, but when the situation calls for it, we will prioritize JTAC's request. We deemed it an utmost priority to ensure our ground forces suffer the least casualties." Varguthas frowned as he raised a hand. "Rather daring, may I suggest you keep your flyers to clear the skies?"

  "That is a fair concern, and we had factored a problematic scenario into our training and pnning. However, rest assured that my confidence was never one built upon baseless cims." She smoothly assured, her confidence remains unshaken. Varguthas crossed his arms before nodding. "... I shall trust your judgement then. Pardon my indiscretion."

  "It is not at all a bother; I verily welcome criticism and suggestions." There are minor queries about operational readiness, further RoE, such as only blowing up buildings unless necessary, CAS operation on which smoke to indicate what and why, and more.

  As she finishes her portion, Gallenor continues where he left off.

  "Third scenario... hard to believe it may be... was centered on fighting our own." Murmurs of confusion spread amongst the attendees. "I will not discount the fact that General Raegova was born with a stigma for many years." He briefly checked Narina, who stayed silent, but her fingers dug into her palms. "Last report from our friend in the intelligence was that of increasing mutiny and distrust. In a worst-case scenario, we might find ourselves fighting against those who had been consumed by madness and desperation or in cahoots with the enemy."

  "... Shoot to kill, sir?" Petriane bit the bullet and asked a question no one wished to be voiced. She can feel several harsh gres her way, but she remains steadfast. Gallenor looks at her. "Shoot to kill." He turned his attention back to the assembled officers.

  "In this third scenario, we might need to rethink our strategic outlook on the operation. It is deemed highly probable that our cause will be challenged not only militarily but also politically. People are weary of war, and such weariness could produce unintended consequences. If such a scenario came to pass, our operation could be considered a fwed one, and a general retreat back to the nding craft would be expedited. Any question?" Cadorn raised a hand.

  "Should I take that there will be more cretins taking the side of the Empire, sir?" That was the politest effort he could muster to not rage outright. He refuses to believe that his countrymen will choose foreign boots over their own, and he refuses to believe that honor has fallen so low that men become beasts in the truest sense.

  "We must face reality, Captain. Our cause was built upon momentum and a shaky foundation; people are weary. They are tired, they hate war with passion. Our return could incite a rift to form, engulfing our people with another suffering. At such a moment, many will think of us a warmonger."

  "..."

  "Our cause is just, that much I am certain, yet common folks have no such aspirations or ambitions. Theirs is that of endless summer and brief, light, and snowy winter. They wish for their crops to grow lush, livestock fed and fat, for commerce to flow coins into their coffers. War is the least of their concern. Our righteousness, our very cause, mattered even less. That's why I announce this possibility. This war requires delicate bancing. I hope I can be understood."

  Cadorn swallowed his rebuttal and stiffly saluted. "Understood, sir. Pardon me." Gallenor accepts his apology. "All is well, you may be seated." A series of questions and answers then commenced.

  "What shall be the policy of engagement against our own countrymen?"

  "We shall try not to spill the blood of Arganean, which is a fact; however, it must not be mistaken with us being lenient. We will provide them with a warning so they change their stance; if not, then the war will have taken a drastically different turn. However, that is the General Staff's issue to resolve."

  "What should be the policy for Arganean-affiliated POWs?"

  "Unlike with Imperials, we should have a high chance of converting them to our cause. Remember, no torture is allowed; we have the Regalian's specialist for such matters whenever we need to interrogate. Then, before anyone asks, do not coerce the peasantry as conscripts. That shall be mine and the King's decision to make."

  As questions and answers were flowing, Dona pced one hand beneath her jaw. 'Technically speaking, E.I.R.I. can win this war for them.' Dona mused quietly, her pen noting down certain words and important proceedings. 'E.I.R.I. could inspire popur uprising, which is the very same scenario that Gorgon Witch is no doubt sowing.' The Technical Officer can feel a major headache.

  'Olga is overly zealous, all too eager to succeed, and proves her method to be the superior one. I am unable to do much but criticize it because there's little damage incurred by Regalian personnel. I fear my deployment will once again be extended.' She sighs softly, her gaze flicking back and forth between the Argean.

  'I do understand their reservation, even though I felt slight bitterness when rooting out rebels back at home.' Her musing was brought to an end when Luanaya spoke up. "It might sound presumptuous of me, and the retreat aside, we need to win a battle to be a credible threat. Any battle." Zorphal raised an eyebrow. He made eye contact with Gallenor, who whispered something into his ear, to which Zorphal nodded. "Brigadier General. I need to ascertain your motive."

  "By Your Majesty's will." Her voice is clipped, clean. "... Between pursuing objective and furthering our cause, which held more importance according to your conscience?" It doesn't even take a second before she answers. "The tter." Zorphal was caught off guard. "... Unquestionably?"

  "Yes." The ck of hesitation from her stirs the military council, but a respectable chunk of Regalian personnel seems to be very impressed with her commitment. Dona isn't one of them, however. She's been noting down Luanaya's words in a separate device, leveraging her entire skill to decipher hidden intentions.

  Luanaya sensed her compatriots' misgivings. "I consider myself a woman who has seen the worst of war, that there's a beast inside every one of us. Then people? People are like sheep, Your Majesty, easily swayed by either the will or emotion. These sheep rely on their shepherd... and such a shepherd fgs and flees." Narina's eyes narrowed, but she made no effort to interrupt.

  "However, we shall not be bands of mongrels; we are hounds. Trained, dutiful, and deadly hounds." She drags her eyes over the assembled personnel. "Will is unneeded to pull a trigger, simple muscle memory or order will do it for them... but emotions? Many such emotions will be distrust, hate, fear, and then terror or sorrow before the fight turns to flight. That much I empathize, and yet my understanding will never blunt my resolve."

  "Just as sheep fear wolves, they will feel fear knowing a pack of hounds hunting their predators, but unlike terror, this will breed respect. They will fear us, but if it came with respect, then the board had changed." Lua raised a finger. "Fear is a weapon. Action is the bde."

  "Both are canine, both are flesh-eating animals, but only one of them is a beast. We are not fighting a war to destroy Halciadon, something I bitterly hope for, were our case, but as, that it was not." Her fists tremble, muscle underneath her coat contracts and coils. "We are fighting a war to liberate our people. Our people hate the Kinsyer, and fortuitously, they hate Imperials more. So let me reiterate." Her comrades are all facing in her direction.

  "How many people had you lost? How many friends and families had been made to suffer? How much longer do you wish to tarnish the sacrifice of your comrades? Yes, we had help. Yes, this power isn't ours alone, but what about them? The North might be celebrating with warmth, but the West, South, and East had all suffered. Did we really just become meek and turn a blind eye to their injustice? Just as I speak, those people are fighting back. Forget who leads them; mere farmers are out there bleeding on the cold snow. Why do we have to be so meek?"

  Her question nded to no one, but it stirs something inside the hearts of men and women present. They have their country to liberate, and here they are getting sidetracked by something always present. War is as old as civilization; there will be hate, there will be suffering, but such is war. It is the brutish, final solution to enforce one's diplomatic dominance upon the other.

  "How can you be so certain?"

  "We had been blinded by rumors, disjointed ideals, and a simple showcase of strength will be necessary. Silken Gloves will do naught unless we showcase the Iron Fist against our enemies. The people need our Iron Fist so they can feel their suffering is worth something. I trust His Majesty to lead the nation; with that in mind, I can fight on without too much concern." There's a satisfied, if morbidly uncomfortable, smile as she argues forth.

  "We can take a page from Haumelchor, who gained immense popur support through military achievement in a nd that was wrecked by turmoil and dissidence. He defeated his rebels, elevated the Kingdom, and Acadionish endears itself to him and his vision." She briefly paused, letting the words sink in. "I understand that many will disagree with my view, but I shall point out that war is diplomacy. Brutish diplomacy."

  Gallenor and Zorphal listen, even as other servicemen feel uncomfortable at how forthcoming Luanaya was. "This will no doubt be a cause for resentment... but I will point out that the Empire is not monolithic, it's young and fragile, kills enough of them and people will question their overlords, and by proxy themselves."

  "These people will see us as the next beast... but only if we invade upon their pastures and feast on their livestock, wheat, and crops... No... They have packs of wolves taking their herd to the meat grinder. These wolves disguise themselves as shepherd, spouting senseless justification for genocide as the best next thing for the herd, but they are not acting in the herd's interest. Their hounds? Also wolves." A delightfully wrong smile floated into her face.

  "That's why we will go out there and kill their hounds. The wolves will be left unable to effectively combat our ferocity if we keep the momentum high, and the people's spirit for vendetta bzing bright. I am confident there are many decent people too fearful to take up arms, so all we need is to give them a cause: liberation by their own hands, or wallow for eternity in chains." The Brigadier General's sentiment is... unsettling, but some people seem to echo her idea.

  "We don't have to bring the fight back to them; there are many ways to enforce our victory." Her face fttened to that of a professional soldier. "Greasing the treads of our tanks with their blood is one such way."

  Zorphal cleared his throat with a cough. "We shall consider your fiery aspiration. Is that all?" Luanaya dipped her head, her fists unclenching. "Indeed, Your Majesty."

  "Then you may be seated." As the meeting continues smoothly with some minor adjustments on how to combat potential changes in the third scenario, the Field Marshal reveals the st one. "Fourth scenario, we are fighting both."

  [END OF CHAPTER]

  Author's Note:

  Yo there, this is me, myself, and I, the author who got so lost in writing that he had written the majority of the content in the first four days.

  10.418 words according to Ms. Words.

  I legit got so happy writing this, I didn't realize I was sitting in front of my computer for hours, rewriting and changing things on the fly. If I had not cut several things, this chapter would have been easily 13.000 words long.

  Anyway, here's the list of Arganean equipment for the upcoming war.

  UFSNE's LMG: M1919.

  Pistol or revolver: Mauser C96 rechambered into 9mm Parabellum or S&W Model 22.

  LGATr-1: BTR-60BP modified to use two M2HB and minor adjustments. Maximian Union of Revolutionary Government (Soviet/Russian) made a lot of them, and it would be a waste not to utilize these cheap APCs for a greater cause.

  ZT-1: M4A3E8 Sherman. This UFSNE workhorse was famed during the 18th Global War for its immense reliability and versatility. It was about to be belled as something along the line of Mediumweight Armored Ground Ptform or MAGP-l, which would have been called magpie or megaphone by soldiers, lmao.

  MIT-6A3: Original creation, based on Gahad, also original creation. This version is armed with a 120mm cannon, a remote-controlled .50 cal HMG, and is in the middle of either retirement or longevity program. Regalia can't decide for now, but we will see.

  HTrG-1: GAZ-66, confiscated from MURG. There's a hatch near the driver, so the vehicle has some defensive properties.

  LTrG-1: UAZ-469, confiscated from MURG. Only a slight modification was made, and mounting .50 because of course.

  LiF-1: Based on Conroy Stolifter or STOL-capable Cessna 337 Super Skymaster. Regalia had a light attack military trainer version; most were sold to civilian companies after stripping them of the sensitive equipment when a more advanced design existed. This meant that the structural integrity is already military-grade, thus requiring minimal refurbishment.

  HTrAU-1: Curtiss C-46 Commando. It was requisitioned from a retively successful transportation company dealing with continental customers.

  LTrAU-1: Cessna 404 Titan.

  Anyway, update as when my enthusiasm surges.

  Ciao