Chapter Three - Airships and Artillery:
3 YAP:
Rector Charles A. Worce sat on his favourite chair, tucking into a breakfast of tea and crumpets. The traditional Narcissian breakfast made his spirits rise. A history book on the Coalition War lay on the table near him – Worce has been reading to learn about events he wasn’t present for.
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There is a knock at the door. The elderly veteran gets up and opens it, ignoring his complaining knees. Lance Corporal Harvester was true to his word: he is next to former High-Commander Azure. Worce is older than the retired Grand Narcissian Fleet officer, who is in his 70s.
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Azure greeted him with a respectful nod. He wore a weak smile, “It is good to see thou again.”
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The two enter the home. Harvester collects the book that he has been writing in.
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"Where art thou up to?” Azure asked.
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“Late 50 YBP. The Fall of Fort Aurorae."
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The old airship commander turned to Harvester, “I fought at all the big aerial battles. Narca Gulf, Mara Sanguinis, Nirtse Bay, and Krake Coast. What am I to recount?”
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“The first two, please.” The Lance Corporal's response is every bit as crisp as the man himself.
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"Ah, let me see...”
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50 YBP:
The border between the Earldom of Narciss and the Estrin Dominion had some spectacular terrain. Below, we could see rocky hills and the deep blue of the sea at Narca Gulf. I stood in the bridge of the GNA Countess Nyctra. The delicate thrum of the engines could be felt through the floor. There were fellow airships of the Grand Narcissian Fleet on both our port and starboard bow. The stunning scenery was ruined by the sight of three Estrin Dominion ships – only the east really used watercraft in warfare – they were dark grey and flew the crimson diamond of the Dominion. It was an ugly scar on the water, as if a lazy prodigy artist had smudged his paint on what would otherwise have been a masterpiece.
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The ships were huge, but we outnumbered them. Our patrol was made up of the heavy frigates, Countess Nyctra and Jörmungandr. The Frigate, Jötunn. And finally, the two Skyblade-class Destroyers, Avis and Vola. We were assigned to Grand Wing B under Grand-Commodore Aer.
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I had been placed in command of the patrol and decided to attack.
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Prepare for engagement,” I commanded through the airships radio, my voice cutting through the stillness of the morning in all the craft. “All airships to battle stations. Gunners, stand ready. Prepare for battle manoeuvres.”
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With practised efficiency, the crew of the Countess Nyctra sprang into action, their movements swift and sure as they prepared for the coming conflict. I thought about the Gunners manning their stations, their fingers poised over the triggers of their weapons, while the engineers tended to the mighty engines that powered our airship forward. The other High-Commanders likely stood at the helm, their eyes fixed on the horizon, ready to steer their airships into battle.
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“Destroyers, take defensive positions around the heavy frigates and frigate,” I ordered, my voice steady despite the roiling sea of emotions churning within me. “We must force them to turn around. They art steaming in the direction of Port Asparanshire.”
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We were nearly in range of the enemy. The Dominion’s vessels were battleships or heavy cruisers judging by their size. One in particular was gargantuan, the largest ship we had ever seen. It had rather odd turrets: they had two prongs jutting out instead of a traditional barrel, and the hollow space in between seemed to shimmer.
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“Fire at will!” I shouted, my voice ringing out across the bridge as the first shots of battle were exchanged. The air was filled with the furious roar of cannons. The Countess Nyctra shuddered beneath my feet as her guns belched forth a deadly salvo. Looking out of the bridge, I saw the GNA Jörmungandr fire a broadside at the smallest target.
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Hits were scored on the enemy vessel, smoke billowed from a secondary turret, presumably knocked out. The Dominion ships returned fire with equal ferocity, their odd guns booming their response. A blur with crackling blue light around it streams past our port bow. The GNA Jötunn is hit by one of these mysterious shells. The Frigate staggers back from the force of the impact. Anyone in the ruined aft dorsal turret was mincemeat.
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The Destroyers retaliate with their smaller calibre autocannons. The high explosive shells burst on the deck of the target, starting a minor fire.
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Up until now, the two battleships had remained silent. The smaller one gives off a blue flash, and then a large shockwave blasts out the pronged barrel of a forward turret. The salvo penetrates the main armour belt of the Jörmungandr. A gaping hole has opened in the airships side.
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I get on the radio to order the Destroyers to lay smoke and commence a bombing run on the smallest target.
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The Avis and her sister airship Vola begin to emit plumes of inky black smoke from their rear exhaust funnels. The Skyblade-class Destroyers lay a smokescreen and descend into the firing solution of many smaller guns. The airships continued to drop. The shocked Estrin gunners failed to score a single hit.
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There is an explosion below my airship. The bombing run must have been successful.
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I hear the voice of the Bombing Lieutenant on the Vola through the comms, “Enemy ship damaged by bombing run. List is 5 degrees. We believe the conning tower and a primary gun turret have been knocked out.”
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A cheer goes up among my own bridge officers.
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Their jubilation is short-lived.
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Both battleships fire their full broadside. Two separate lines of blue light are all we see for a moment.
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The Jörmungandr is hit by a least 6 blue shells. The airship's lift and propulsion systems must have been disabled as it begins to fall out of the sky. Fires rage all over the stricken heavy frigate. The GNA Jörmungandr does not go quietly. It’s powder magazine detonated in an awesome fireball.
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We are struck by a salvo from the damaged Dominion heavy cruiser. “Damage report!” I yell at the analysis officer.
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The man looks terrified. To his everlasting credit, he does as he is ordered, “D and E turrets have lost power, our speed had been cut to a maximum of 20 Knots.”
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Our remaining turrets continue to fire. The Jötunn is hit by a salvo from one of the big guns. The airship begins to drop - the hit must have destroyed its lift systems.
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Thankfully, we see the tiny auxiliary airships take off and flee the airship.
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The Estrin warships begin to turn around to return to wherever they had come from.
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I give the order for all remaining airships to steam to Port Asparanshire.
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The Countess Nyctra turned her bow towards home. Its crew was weary and frightened by the power of the Estrin warships.
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A week later:
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Grand Commodore Aer had responded to the plea for reinforcements, our fleet now stood ready for the imminent clash: four Starlance-Class Battlecruisers—Juno, Callisto, Celeste, and Skye—had been given to us, the presence of the heavier airships was a rare source of comfort in Port Asparanshire. Alongside them sailed three Grace-Class Heavy Frigates—Domina Aurea, Rumine Dora, and Aer Nora—and two Swan-Class Destroyers, Aloe and Cygne. Aer had come in person and had placed High-Commander Skybreak in command of the fleshly expanded aerial force at Asparanshire after reports of a much larger enemy force steaming to the Port reached him.
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The Grand Commodore had called the High-Commanders of all the airships in the area – twelve in total – to a combat briefing.
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“High-Commanders, I welcome thou to this briefing, though I must admit it is unnecessary, for our victory is assured. I, the illustrious Grand Commodore Aer of the Grand Narcissian Fleet's Grand Wing B, am clearly superior to the Noyan that the Estrin Dominion sends to challenge us. The enemy approaches with their armada, but I, a master strategist and tactician, shall crush them if it is the last thing I accomplish in my magnificent career. Their extra-large battleship, their regular battleship, the three heavy cruisers, and the two light cruisers— while powerful, art no match for my brilliance.”
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"We shalt intercept them at Mara Sanguinis – at the Sea of Blood!”
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The room is silent.
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“My Machiavellian masterpiece is as follows: Let the enemy come, for they shalt find themselves in a caught in a semi-defensive formation of GNA craft.”
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“Our Battlecruisers shalt take their rightful place at the forefront, forming a spearhead aimed directly at the heart of the enemy’s advance. Their speed and firepower shall serve as a formidable barrier, striking fear into the hearts of the Estrinites.”
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“On the flanks, our Heavy Frigates, with their sturdy hulls and relentless firepower, will ensure that the enemy cannot target the weaker armoured rear of the Battlecruisers.”
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“As for our Destroyers, they will remain in reserve for when it will be possible to initiate some bombing runs.”
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“Doth anyone have any queries?”
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There is a pregnant pause.
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“Then board thy airships and take-off.”
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Grand Commodore Aer was the physical manifestation of what the rest of Empyrea thought about Narcissians: proud, egotistical, and pedantic. Neither I nor my crew had much love for the man and his inflated ego. Nevertheless, he was still our superior. An equal counterpart to him in the army would be a Lieutenant General.
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To give Aer credit where it is due, he had made a prudent choice for his second-in-command: High-Commander Skybreak was a ruthless but surprisingly jovial man.
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My own crew were efficient as per usual. Chatty as well, I suspected pre-battle nerves.
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We steadily climbed into the skies
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"Look at this oversized, coal-guzzling thing. Think its meant to make Aer's manhood look bigger?" Lieutenant Jacobs – the Gunnery Officer - remarked, nodding to the huge airship on our port side.
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I agreed that the Battlecruiser GNA Callisto was indeed quite large, “Hope they don't run out of coal before the explosions begin.”
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I could not help but join in their laughter, grateful for their humour in the face of danger. But beneath the jests, I knew that our success depended on the coordinated efforts of everyone.
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The analysis officer asked a question of no one in particular, “What of our starboard friend?”
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Another Bridge Lieutenant answered him, “The Domina Aurea? What of it?”
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“What doth that even mean?”
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“The Golden Lady, I believe.” I told him. Whoever named the Grace-class heavy frigates thought themselves very tactful, it would seem.
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The crackle of static over the radio signalled that orders were coming.
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Skybreak's response was swift and decisive. "All airships, this is High-Commander Skybreak. Enemy fleet detected bearing true north. Battle stations, prepare to engage. Target mid-sized vessels. Fire at will."
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Someone slammed the big red button. Red lights and alarms became active.
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We were not in range yet, so we watched as the Battlecruisers unleashed their wrath upon the enemy, torrents of cannon fire raining down upon the mid-sized vessels with relentless fury. The sky lit up with flashes of light and plumes of smoke as the large airships heavy cannon spat death at the warships below.
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Return fire erupted from the opposing fleet, a barrage of those blue shells came squarely at our advancing Battlecruisers. We rocked under the impact of the enemy’s assault, the air filled with the shockwaves from the detonating shells.
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I turned my gaze to the Callisto. Its side was awash with smoke and flame as it weathered the relentless onslaught of enemy fire.
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The battle raged on, our Battlecruisers continued to unleash their fury upon the enemy fleet, their cannons thundering with a relentless barrage of firepower that painted the sky with streaks of crimson and smoke. The air crackled with energy as the enemy shells whistled through the air, finding their marks with deadly precision amidst the chaos of battle.
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“Enemy within range, sir!”
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“Fire!” I shouted, the words audible even with the din of battle outside.
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Our own craft gave a shudder as our own weapons joined in, their shells tearing through the air with a scream. Explosions blossomed across the deck of the heavy cruiser we were targeting. It would seem we knocked out some of their secondary battery.
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One of the larger blue shells impacts our armoured side with a thud. There is no explosion in the airship.
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“Damage report!” I called out, my voice strained with urgency.
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“Minor damage!” came the response, “Shell overpenetrated.”
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With a nod of approval, I turned my attention back to the battle.
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I caught sight of a smaller enemy ship attempting to flank our Battlecruisers. It moved with a calculated precision, slipping through the fray with a deadly intent as it steamed around to fire at the vulnerable rear of the airships.
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“Enemy light cruiser off the starboard bow!” came the call from one of my crew, their voice tinged with alarm.
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I clenched my jaw in frustration, I radio the nearby Destroyer – GNA Cygne – to assist us in attacking the light cruiser.
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We change targets to the sneaky ship.
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Plumes of water erupt across the surface of the Sea of Blood as we miss. Our 4th salvo aimed at the ship smashes directly into the bridge. The next sends up a shower of sparks as it knocks out their forward turret as Cygne's own shot straddles the stern of the ship. It slows to halt, the Destroyer must have put the steam-powered propulsion out of action.
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I immediately radio the High-Commander of the Cygne to cease fire so we capture the ship after the battle.
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Port Asparanshire had been obliterated by an unseen enemy airship was what we were angrily told by Aer over the radio. It was probably the Eye, I thought.
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Still, we kept fighting.
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But amidst the chaos and confusion, tragedy struck with a sudden and devastating force. The Battlecruiser Juno, flagship of Grand Commodore Aer himself, was struck by a series of fierce enemy salvos. The airship trembled under the onslaught, her hull buckling and groaning as explosions ripped through her. We saw two lines of bright blue light appear on the sea.
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Then there is a tremendous explosion as Juno is engulfed in a firestorm.
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I felt a cold knot form in the pit of my stomach as I watched helplessly from the bridge, my heart sinking with each successive blast that rocked the stricken airship. Its magazines detonate, and Juno takes the Battlecruiser next to it – GNA Skye – down with it.
Grand Commodore Aer had definitely been killed.
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And so, with a heavy heart and a steely resolve, we unleashed a withering barrage of fire upon the eenemy. All but one of the heavy cruisers had been sunk in the brawl with the Battlecruisers. We had knocked a light cruiser out of the fight. And the Destroyers had sent the other to the bottom of the Sea of Blood.
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We saw that the sole remaining heavy cruiser was disengaging. Its superstructure was a twisted mess of warped and melted steel. We did not pursue it, for there were more pressing concerns.
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The Battle of Mara Sanguinis was becoming possibly the bloodiest battle in the history of the Grand Narcissian Fleet. The chaos and carnage of war continued as the remaining Narcissian fleet surged forward with a desperate resolve. The Battlecruisers Callisto and Celeste, flanked by the Heavy Frigates Aer Nora, Dominia Aurea, Rumine Dora, and my own Countess Nyctra were ready to dish out the withering firepower of the late Grand Commodore Aer's flottila formed to defend Port Asparanshire. We had failed in that regard but had inflicted heavy damage on this fleet of the Khagan’s Navy.
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As we closed in on the lesser of the enemy Battleships, every man’s heart rate went through the roof. The steady thrumming of steam driven engines and the thunder of cannons still filled the air, drowning out all other sound as we braced ourselves for the inevitable clash.
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But even as we prepared to unleash our fury upon the enemy, tragedy struck with a sudden and devastating force. The Heavy Frigate Aer Nora - ironically named after the late Commodore and his daughter – was straddled by a salvo from the other ship, the blue shells sent the airship spiralling out of the skies, it came down on the surface of the Sea with all the grace of a sledgehammer.
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The large battleship's secondary battery tore it to shreds with streaks of blue light.
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The sister airship – Domina Aurea – had not left our side and had opened fire with not just its cannons but the autocannons as well. We did not use our own autocannons as they would be about as effective as flinging a stone at the battleship, I doubt it would even scratch the paint.
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“May the skies welcome the Aer Nora and her crew into their loving embrace,” I whispered, a solemn prayer for the fallen.
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We say the pair of Destroyers commencing a bombing run on the battleship, both made it and dropped their payload of combustibles directly on the target. If autocannon fire is a stone thrown at the battleship, then the bombs were akin to dropping an entire mountain on the Estrin ship.
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A few more salvos from the Battlecruisers had made the battleship begin to sink. It listed heavily to one side.
The autocannon was still firing, but it was no longer harmless. The Estrinites abandoning ship was met with a hail of fire. It was ruthless, but I felt no remorse for the battleships crew, for they would do the same to us.
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“Target neutralised!” came the triumphant cry from one of one of my officers, their voice ringing out with a joyous fervour that seemed deeply out of place.
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The Estrinites still had two ships left: the larger battleship and one heavy cruiser. They opened fire at us, our craft's lift and propulsion systems had been damaged well beyond repair. I realised that the GNA Countess Nyctra was lost.
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“Abandon ship!” I shouted, my voice tinged with despair as I watched helplessly from the bridge. “To the auxiliary airships, quickly!”
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I led my crew in a desperate bid for survival, boarding the tiny auxiliary airships and fleeing the burning wreckage of our beloved airship behind.
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From the tiny airship, I could see the Dominion warships steaming away, sending up a storm of defensive fire. We boarded the GNA Callisto through its large auxiliary airship bay, and there was plenty of room to allow the battlecruiser to pick up survivors.
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This was not the end of the day's events. I was invited to the bridge as my crew settled into the slightly overcrowded quarters on the Callisto.
I watched the Battlecruisers deploy their harpoon launchers, their steel cables snaking through the air like vengeful serpents as they latched onto the immobile hull of the enemy vessel With a mighty tug, they began to tow the crippled cruiser towards the ruins of Port Asparanshire.
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The Estrin cruiser was brought into the only intact repair pen.
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High-Commander Skybreak had taken total command over the remaining airships due to Aer's demise.
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He turned to me as I looked at the lovely coastline and light cruiser below us.
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“High-Commander Azure. You will lead the interrogation of the enemy crew.” Skybreak near enough snarled at me. He was understandably stressed.
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I nodded, my heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation as I prepared to embark on this perilous mission.
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Gathering a small contingent of Marines and a pistol to defend myself, we were sent down to the pen holding the captured ship.
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We got on board without issue via a hole in the deck. The inside of the light cruiser reeked of a mixture of coal, blood, and smoke.
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“Spread out,” I commanded to the Marines. They were an obedient lot.
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With a determined nod, my Marines fanned out, their weapons at the ready as they began to scour the ship for any sign of life. Every creak of metal and every whisper of movement set my nerves on edge as I braced myself for the inevitable confrontation that lay ahead.
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But even as we delved deeper into the bowels of the enemy vessel, we found no living crew. Although, there were plenty of dead ones in what used to be the engine room.
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We did not encounter anyone until we entered the bridge. The window had been shattered, and the helm had snapped. Overall, the bridge was in better condition than expected. All the remaining crew of the ship were found here. It was a sory sight: there were five men in total, one was probably a junior officer, and the rest were enlisted sailors.
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"Who art thou?” I demanded of the likely officer. My voice came out harsh and irritated.
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The man stepped forward with an air of indignation, his features twisted in anger as he spoke. “I am Acting-Govor Jafaar of the EDS Khani Anu,” he spat, his words dripping with contempt. “And thou have no right to be here.”
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Ignoring his outburst, I pressed on, my gaze locked on to his eyes. “What doth thou know of thy home fleet?”
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Jafaar sneered, his lips curling in disdain as he regarded us with disdain. “The Eye of the Dominion levelled thy port.”
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I clenched my fists, my patience wearing thin. “What is the Eye?”
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Jafaar’s eyes gleamed with malicious amusement as he leaned in closer, his voice dripping with mockery. “The Eye is a Battlecruiser, half the size of thy Narcissian toys,” he sneered. “But do not be fooled by its size. It brings doom to all it faces.”
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Nothing surprising there, the reports of the fall of Forts Magnus and Aurorae confirmed as much, “And the battleship?” I pressed, my voice barely above a whisper.
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Jafaar’s smirk widened into a grin as he spoke, “The super-battleship EDS Kraken’s Fury,” he declared, his voice filled with reverence. “I am a mere Sarnai and with me art four Dalai. There is nothing we can tell thou that isn’t already known.”
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Jafaar seemed awfully smug for someone who had been captured. “No harm shalt come to me or my men, we art prisoners of war.”
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I froze. There was something that sickened me in those words.
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The realisation of what it was came to me. The Estrin Dominion had murdered a diplomatic delegation in cold blood. They likely tortured prisoners of war, yet they would ask for immunity from the same thing?
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I thought not.
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“Take aim.” I told the Marines, they pointed quick firing rifles at jafaar and his men.
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The smirk on his faces crumbled and then completely fell apart. It was replaced by fear.
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“W-what art thou doing?” The man asked me, his voice cracked in terror.
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“The same thing that the almighty khagan would do to us.” I told him calmly.
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“B-but –“
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“Fire!” I yelled at the Marines. They did as they were told.
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Jafaar fell to the ground. He aught to become an Abbot of a Celestial church, I was there sure that the Theocratic Confederacy of Cerulea would be delighted to have him.
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After all, the man was clearly very holey, judging by the amount of blood pouring out of body.
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He might be better suited to becoming a martyr, instead. As he was not just very holey, but very dead as well.
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3 YAP:
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“They were shot?” Asked Harvester to Azure.
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“Aye, all of them.”
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“What happened to the ship?”
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“No idea, probably scraped.”
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Worce looked at him thoughtfully. He sipped some tea. He spoke after he had set his mug down. “Both sides committed atrocities, such is the way of war in Empyrea. The Dominion was worse than all the other members of the Coalition put together.”
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“Speaking of the rest of the Coalition, when did they actually get involved?”
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“Empyrean geography meant that they took a while to arrive. Poor communication did not help. They did not want to move close to the Temporal Anomaly in the centre to get here faster.”
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“I see. What is next?”
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“I was at the Battle of Pridehorn, the tail end of the Clash at Ergo Ridge, and the famous Assuslt on Worcester. Grand-General Pride was hailed as a hero for that one because he died there. I wasn’t at the Fall of Fort Astarious, but it shared the fate of Forts Magnus and Aurorae anyway: levelled by that dammed Eye.”
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“We only have time for the first.”
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“Pridehorn was bloody magnificent...”
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49 YBP:
We were all exhausted from a gruelling night march. There had been no stops to rest, for we needed to get to Pridehorn as soon as we could. Everyone apart from myself was permitted to rest for the whole day. I was approached by an officer holding the same rank soon after the order to rest had been given. “I am Grand Warlord Nimbus of the 78th Howitzer Division.” he declared to me.
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I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. Grand Warlords were nearly always in command of Corps. “A Grand Warlord in charge of a Brigade,” I mused aloud, my curiosity piqued. “That’s... unconventional. Why art thou stationed here?” I asked him.
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Nimbus looked somewhat annoyed. “I’m supposed to be commanding the 26th Artillery Corps,” he explained, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. “I am to join with the 76th and 77th Artillery Divisions to take command of the Corps. We art to leave for Worcester to unite with the rest of the First Artillery Army.”
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“Where are the rest of the artillery units?” I asked, my voice barely concealed the anger I and many other had felt at the absence of the Artillery.
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Nimbus’s response was measured. “The First Artillery Army remains stationed in Worcester,” he replied. “And the Second Artillery Army has been dispatched to Ergo Ridge under Lieutenant General Sunshard’s command.”
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I would need to join the rest of the First Infantry Army eventually, but they had scurried off to Worcester. Ergo Ridge was nearer. It would also be guaranteed fall under attack if the Coalition wanted to get to Worcester.
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Nimbus had more to say.
“Grand Warlord Worce,” there a sense of urgency present in his voice, “We must prepare for the worst. A platoon from the 1,560th Company reported sighting a scouting party yesterday, they wore the deep purple uniforms of the Meritocracy of Aquiloria's soldiers.”
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“It is known that Aquiloria is perhaps the weakest of the Coalition members, they art not as dangerous as Estrin.” I told him.
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He nodded in agreement, “That is likely true. We still need to fight them off if they appear, though. In addition to giving them an excellent position, we would hand the southeast 4000 Howizer's if we failed."
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I highly doubted that the Meritocracy had enough men nearby to stand a chance. The Coalition was probably planning a joint attack on Ergo Ridge. “I have 100,000 men under my command,” I stated firmly. “But I will never allow what happened at Nyctrae to occur again. I need Artillery.
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Nimbus regarded me thoughtfully for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Agreed, Grand Warlord,” he replied, his tone resolute. “My howitzers will be at your disposal when the southeast comes knocking.”
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Satisfied, I clasped Nimbus’s hand in a firm shake. I finally had some real firepower.
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“Would thou care to have a look at one of our howitzers, Charles?”
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I nodded eagerly. “Yes, I would.”
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Leading the way, Nimbus guided me to a nearby emplacement where a howitzer stood, its barrel gleaming in the sunlight. They were self-propelled guns, they told me.
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“It’s impressive,” I remarked, glad to know the things actually existed.
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Nimbus nodded, pride evident in his expression. “Indeed, it is. Far superior to what the Aquilorians have got. These haven’t been used in combat yet.”
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Nimbus looked deep in contemplation, “Tell me, Worce, was there any Assault forces at the border?”
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I knew there that definitely wasn’t any, another of life'a disappointments. It would have made up for the lack of Artillery.
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“I’m afraid not. They weren’t deployed to the border, and I’ve heard rumours that they’re either not ready or being held in reserve for some reason.”
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Nimbus nodded, his gaze drifting towards the distant horizon. “Interesting. I’ve heard that the Valkyries are the best soldiers in all of Empyrea.”
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The Valkyries were the supposed elite of the Assault forces, but no one had actually seen them. “Do they even exist?” I asked.
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“I hope.”
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I walked away. Sleep took me soon after I entered my temporary quarters.
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The following morning was misty, drew was sprinkled on the verdant grass. Grand Warlord Nimbus and I stood together atop an elevated position overlooking the sprawling expanse where our forces were arrayed below. We were ready to defend against anything that the Aquilorians could throw at us.
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Nimbus surveyed the scene with a keen eye, his gaze shifting from one end of the battlefield to the other. His presence exuded confidence, a reassuring beacon amidst the chaos of impending conflict. “They’re coming,” he muttered, more to himself than to me, as if stating the obvious.
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I nodded in agreement, my heart pounding in my chest as I watched the enemy forces massing on the horizon.
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I spotted some War flags that were clearly not Aquilorian, but the main flag was the same throughout. This could only mean that there was Vorantine soldiers present in addition to the forces of the Southeast. It should have been no surprise that there was a joint force: the Southeast and the South of Empyrea were inseparable economically, and militarily. Meritocracy and Technocracy quite similar in principles – the main difference that separates the two political ideologies is that a person derives their postion based on ability in a Meritocratic society, whereas in a Technocratic society it is knowledge that determines one’s position.
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“We must defend Pridehorn,” Nimbus said, his voice firm and resolute. “Or Worcester will become easy prey.”
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I clenched my fists, steeling myself for the coming onslaught. The Meritocracy of Aquiloria was not particularly dangerous on its own – the region was best known for art, music, and literature. It became an entirely different story when paired with the forces of the Technocracy of Vorantis as the south was a technological powerhouse – they almost certainly had at least one “Superweapon” waiting for Narciss. This would be a test of wills, a clash of ideologies, and only the strongest would emerge victorious.
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As the enemy drew nearer, the tension in the air reached a fever pitch. The ground trembled beneath our feet as the sound of marching feet grew louder, like the distant rumble of thunder heralding an approaching storm. I glanced at Nimbus, his face set in a grim expression as he issued orders to his commanders below.
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“Order the Howizer crews to open fire.” Nimbus told one of his officers his voice cutting through the din of battle. “We’ll give them a battle they will never forget.”
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I watched as our artillery crews sprang into action, loading shells into the massive cannons and adjusting their aim to target the advancing enemy forces. The Howizers would likely be a suprise to the joint Coalition forces, as the Earldom had yet to use any Artillery. They were capable of raining destruction down on our foes and we intended to use them to full effect.
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The opening barrage erupted from the self propelled guns, the deafening roar of Artillery echoing across the battlefield as shells arced through the air, leaving trails of smoke and fire in their wake. I watched unblinking as the enemy ranks faltered, thrown into disarray by the sudden onslaught, and we seized the opportunity to press our advantage. The low timbre of the Bass Alpenhorns replaced the roar of the big guns, the Howizer crews – five men apiece – had been instructed to shoot in concentrated bursts in order to maximise the distress it would cause the enemy, they fired in a staggered manner – apparently it made it unclear for the enemy as to when they would stop firing.
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My men surged forward and fought with all their might, the enemy’s resolve began to waver. Our relentless assault had taken its toll, and their lines began to fall apart under the pressure. Sensing their weakness, the men pressed our advantage, driving deeper into their ranks with every passing moment. I had ordered the Infantry of the 1st and 3rd Corps to attack as Companies to allow them greater flexibility in their movements, the result was a fluid network of mini-battles that made it far easier to isolate and destroy smaller groups of the enemy. I have no doubt that a less skilled tactician would hurl all the men as a large group at the enemy, causing tens of thousands of needless losses on our side, it would also leave our own forces open to accidental friendly-fire from our own Artillery batteries.
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Victory was, without a doubt, firmly within my grasp. The enemy morale broke, and it took discipline down with it. Their lines collapsing into blobs of men as they fled the battlefield in defeat. We had emerged victorious, our foes vanquished and our honour upheld. The disaster at Nyctrae could have been averted if we had Artillery then. The results spoke for themselves: an estimated 39,000 enemy casualties at the cost of around 10,000 men.
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There was also a small group of captured Aquilorian soldiers, a Lieutenant was the highest ranked of them. The captured soldiers did not have any useful information, they were quite cooperative. I believed that Aquiloria had likely only joined the Coalition against Narciss because Vorantis had done so, causing then to feel obliged to follow their historical ally. The captured soldiers were respectful despite obvious distress. I personally spoke to the Lieutenant, he did not have any useful strategic information, so I asked him about Aquilorian culture – I had never been outside of Narciss and knew little of that particular region of Empyrea.
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3 YBP:
“That was the Battle of Pridehorn. The historians tend to gloss over it as it is eclipsed by the Clash at Ergo Ridge due to its significance and by the Assault on Worcester, the most widely known event of the Coalition War – also the 2nd bloodiest battle for the Coalition side after the triple pronged Assault on Xyrin, Cystin, and Hestyn later on in the war,” finished Worce.
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“I had best be going, the hour is late. I shalt return when I am needed to recount the Battles of Nirtse Bay and Krake Coast,” said Azure before he left with Lance Corporal Harvester in tow.
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Chapter Four - The Seige of Worcester:
As we neared the front lines of the Battle of Ergo Ridge, the air became thick with the abhorrent stench of burning flesh and fuel oil, assaulting our senses with its sickening intensity. The sounds from the fog of war echoed throughout the battlefield, a menacing hiss that sent shivers down our spines as we watched in horror as torrents of searing flames engulfed the Narcissian soldiers.
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The screams of the burning men filled the air, a symphony of agony that pierced the chaos of battle with its haunting melody. Their cries of pain echoed off the blood-stained earth, a grim reminder of the brutal reality of war and the merciless cruelty of its instruments of death. The rumbling contraptions were almost certainly of Vorantine design.
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Amidst the choas, me and nimbus watched as a group of our soldiers emerged from the smoke, their weapons raised high as they hurled a bundle of grenades at one of the armoured units. The explosives detonated with a deafening roar, sending shrapnel and debris flying in all directions as the armoured vehicle was torn apart in a fiery explosion.
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The sight was both awe-inspiring and horrifying, a stark reminder of the savagery of war and the sheer brutality of its weapons. But amidst the devastation, a flicker of defiance burned from within, driving us forward with renewed determination as we prepared to face whatever horrors the battlefield had in store.
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We managed to find the command headquarters soon after, Lieutenant Generals Napoleon and Sunshard were both present - the intelligence about the Second Artillery Army being present at Ergo Ridge was accurate.
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"Gentlemen," Napoleon greeted us with a weary nod, his voice heavy with fatigue. "I trust thou art both aware of the dire straits we find ourselves in."
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Nimbus nodded grimly, his eyes betraying the exhaustion that gnawed at his soul. "Indeed, the sights from the front lines leave little room for optimism," he replied, his voice hoarse with exhaustion.
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Sunshard's expression mirrored our own weariness, his features drawn tight with tension. "The Vorantine units armed with flame projectors have inflicted heavy casualties upon our forces," he explained, his voice tinged with despair. "Our men are struggling to hold the line against their relentless assault."
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I exchanged an exhausted glance with Nimbus, the weight of the situation bearing down upon us like a leaden mantle. "Do we have any hope of stemming their advance?" I asked
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Napoleon's lips thinned into a grim line as he considered our dwindling options. "We art exploring every avenue of defence," he replied, his tone heavy with the burden of command. "But the enemy's relentless firepower leaves us little room for manoeuvre."
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Nimbus nodded, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion. "Agreed. We must fall back to Worcester as soon as possible," he declared, his voice tinged with desperation. "We cannot afford to risk annihilation in a futile stand."
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As we trudged through the smoke-choked battlefield, the weight of defeat heavy upon our shoulders, the urgent need to retreat to Worcester weighed heavily upon our minds. The chaos of battle raged around us, the deafening roar of artillery fire and the acrid stench of burning flesh serving as constant reminders of the dire situation in which we found ourselves.
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Napoleon, Nimbus, Sunshard, and I huddled together amidst the chaos, our voices barely audible above the din of battle as we discussed our plan of action. "We cannot afford to remain here any longer," Napoleon declared, his voice strained with urgency. "We must begin the retreat immediately before it is too late."
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Nimbus nodded in agreement, his expression grave. "Agreed. But how do we extract our forces from the midst of this inferno?" he questioned, his brow furrowed with concern.
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I glanced around at the battered remnants of our once-mighty army, the sight of our brave soldiers fighting valiantly against impossible odds, filling me with a sense of profound sorrow. "We'll have to split our forces down to the brigade level," I suggested, my voice heavy with resignation. "It's the only way to ensure a swift and orderly retreat."
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Napoleon nodded in agreement, his gaze sweeping over the chaos of the battlefield. "Very well. We'll organize the retreat accordingly," he declared, his voice ringing with authority. "But what of those damned flame-projecting armoured units? They've been tearing through our ranks with impunity."
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Sunshard's expression hardened with determination as he gestured toward a pile of discarded grenades nearby. "We've found that bundles of grenades are effective against them," he explained, his voice tinged with grim satisfaction.
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I nodded in agreement, the weight of our losses pressing down upon me like a leaden weight. "Once we reach Worcester, we'll regroup and fortify our defences," I declared, my voice tinged with determination. "We cannot allow the enemy to breach our last line of defence."
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As we made preparations to retreat, a sudden explosion rocked the ground beneath us, sending shockwaves rippling through the air. I turned to see Sunshard, his body engulfed in flames as he fell to the ground, a look of grim determination etched upon his face. "Go!" he shouted, his voice barely audible above the roar of battle.
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We left Sunshard behind, his unwilling sacrifice serving as a grim lesson: climbing high does not guarantee one's safety - quite the opposite, in fact.
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3 YAP:
"What happened when news of Lieutenant General Sunshard's demise reached Worcester?" asked the Valerium soldier.
"The moment we arrived in Worcester, I was told that Napoleon was being transferred to the Second Artillery Army to fill the gap in command. I was then informed that I was being promoted to the rank of Lieutenant General and was being given command of the First Infantry Army."
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"I see."
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