A + 15 Hour, 1st of May 2146 Imperial Calendar

PFC James Wilson is the unlucky soldier on watch duty for the night at this desolate outpost. Ever since the United Empire took over the western part of the continent, fear has gripped all opposing forces. The Locas Line was constructed as a last defense, a series of interconnected outposts connected by underground tunnels and trenches. Each outpost bristles with weapons - machine gun bunkers, AT gun bunkers, mortars, anti-aircraft missiles, guns, and artillery bunkers designed to unleash maximum carnage with overlapping fire. Surrounding the entire line is a 10-foot deep anti-tank trench and miles upon miles of various mines. The Locas Line is deemed impregnable, guarding the strategically crucial Locas Plains that serve as the only logical avenue of attack between the ocean and the imposing Silveria Mountains.

James stands atop the lookout tower of the main bunker complex, his mind wandering away from his tedious sentry duty. He curses himself for drawing the short straw yet again and being stuck on watch in the middle of the night. As he gazes out at the vast emptiness of the plains, suddenly, bright stars begin to fall from the sky toward his position. His instincts kick in, and he sounds the alarm, but it's too late.

The first shell explodes in mid-air, unleashing smaller bomblets that rain down on the minefield and set it ablaze. Soldiers pour out of their bunkers as more and more shells rain down in waves. The first targets are the artillery, mortar, and long-range missile bunkers - devastating hits that reduce them to rubble and incinerate anything inside. Next come precision strikes on the AT and machine gun bunkers, leaving nothing but smoldering craters.

As if that wasn't enough destruction, the final wave unleashes tiny anti-personnel mines throughout the outpost and its surroundings, making any reinforcements or escape nearly impossible. But James is lucky - he sees the shells coming and quickly jumps down the emergency shaft of the lookout tower, landing safely inside the main bunker. Despite taking heavy damage, it survives the initial barrage and serves as a refuge for James and his fellow soldiers.

Silence falls over the battlefield as the last of the explosions fade away. With trembling hands, they cautiously emerge from their battered bunker, weapons gripped tightly in white-knuckled fists. But as they scan the horizon, their blood runs cold at the sight before them - monstrous engineering vehicles emblazoned with black crosses and grinning skulls, mercilessly plowing through earthworks and trenches, trapping soldiers in their earthen graves. The soldiers watch in horror as these death machines complete their task and make way for the armored personnel carrier, also adorned with the haunting skull emblem. The back hatch opens to reveal a squad of fully armored soldiers, their menacing all-black suits adorned with assault skulls and armed with deadly flamethrowers. With pinpoint accuracy, they unleash streams of jet-black flames into every opening that leads to a bunker, reducing flesh and metal similar to a bubbling mass of melted destruction. The screams of trapped soldiers fill the air, drowning out any other sound. James can only watch in agony as one of these black-clad soldiers locates the entrance to his own bunker and opens fire. In an instant, all that remains is torment as James's flesh and bones are consumed by the searing inferno.

Days Earlier

Years have passed since the United Empires waged a massive war, conquering the continent's western half. With the West now under their control, they turn their sights towards the East. The Union of Peoples Revolution has dominated the eastern region, invading and installing puppet governments in all surrounding countries. Caught in between, some smaller countries formed a military alliance for their own survival. This United Defense Alliance has become the only hope for those not allied with either superpower. As time passed, the Alliance has grown to become a major player in the global arena.

The year was 2146 in the Imperial Calendar, and the Briatanian sea stretched out in all directions, gently rocking the sleek and powerful ANS Defender. Commander Josef Alderiaz stood on the deck, his confident demeanor reflecting his years of commanding the most modern destroyer in the Alliance Navy. From his days as an enlisted sailor, he had served on this very ship and forged countless friendships and memories within its walls. In his eyes, it was more than just a vessel - it was his second home, his second wife. Under his predecessor's guidance, the Defender had earned numerous accolades, including multiple "Ship of the Year" awards and prestigious Spearhead commendations. Now, as its current commander, Alderiaz pushed himself to exceed even the high standards his predecessor set. The ship hummed with energy and purpose under his command, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

The ANS Defender, the final ship of the Agis class of destroyers, is a testament to what could have been. Its sleek and angular design cuts through the water like a knife, with advanced radar-absorbing material coating its exterior to increase its stealth capabilities. From afar, the gray ship appears three times smaller than other destroyers on radar, a deceptive tactic used to surprise the enemies. But it's not just its appearance that makes this vessel stand out - its true power lies within its 150 VLS cells, capable of unleashing devastating firepower that rivals even some cruisers. Packed with the most advanced technology available, the ship was once considered a formidable game-changer by Alliance leaders. But sadly, it met an untimely demise due to budget cuts after only six were produced. To Josef, it was a tragic end for such an impressive and promising class of vessels.

The patrol task force, led by the Defender and its sister ship Vigilance, had been sailing in the tumultuous Briatanian sea for months. They were tasked with guarding the western boundary of the Alliance's naval borders, a crucial defense against enemy advances. But as their food supplies dwindled onboard the ships, it was becoming increasingly clear to all that they would soon have to return to port. On the mess decks, conversations mostly revolved around booking hotels and planning for some much-needed time away from the ship's cramped quarters.

For Josef, pulling into port meant a chance to see his family again. He thought back to his wife Jenna, who had been pregnant before he left on this deployment. He longed to be there for the birth of his son, and every moment spent at sea only made him more anxious to reunite with them.

Despite the peaceful appearance of the ocean, tensions were high amongst the crew. An earlier report from another ship on patrol had mentioned Imperial surveillance aircraft crossing their naval identification zone. However, no such incident had occurred since their task force had taken over patrol duties.

A sudden noise caught his attention as Josef sat in his captain's chair, gazing out at the endless waves. It was a ringing sound coming from a phone located next to his armrest. He picked up the receiver and heard a voice calling out, "Bulwark hailing shield, Bulwark hailing shield."

Quickly pressing a button on the phone handle, Josef responded, "Shield actual, go ahead."

The voice on the other end replied, "Shield actual, this is Bulwark actual. Any word from high command on the ETA of our relief?"

The captain of Vigilance was commander Leo Varkas, a long-time friend and rival of Josef's. They had first met during Josef's junior officer days and had formed a strong bond over their shared dedication to their duties. As they were the most junior officers onboard, they had become good friends and even better rivals, constantly pushing each other to excel.

"Leo, you know high command never tells us anything too important. But judging from our dwindling supplies, I'd say it won't be long now," responded Josef.

"We've been surviving on canned food for days now," Leo said with a tired sigh. "I'm not sure how much longer I can take eating this stuff. Feels like we're just eating cat food," he added, causing laughter in the background that could be heard through the phone.

"Just a couple more days, buddy," Josef reassured him before hanging up the phone.

After a moment, Josef picked up the phone again and pressed a button on his chair labeled "OPS". The phone rang twice before a fatigued-sounding man answered, his voice crackling through the speaker. "Bridge, OPS. Go ahead," he said wearily.

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Josef's eyes flicked to the radar screen above him as he spoke into the phone. "OPSO, anything to report?"

The man let out a long sigh before responding. "No sir, just cargo haulers, and sea animals. Same as the past hour and the hour before that."

"Just making sure everything is shipshape," chuckled Josef as he hung up the phone. The ship's operations officer was Lieutenant Commander Steven Fisher, an extremely competent and efficient officer in charge of operations. However, his serious demeanor and lack of nuance awareness made him both difficult to promote and an easy target for quick jokes. Josef knew that Steve didn't take it seriously, but it was still fun to mess with him. Just another way to pass the dull hours of patrol duty.

As he stared out the front window of his ship, Captain Josef couldn't help but be mesmerized by the view of the endless azure ocean. The gentle waves lapped against the ship's hull, punctuated by the occasional appearance of a majestic sea creature breaching the surface. He had tried to take up animal watching, like the previous captain, but found himself unable to remember all the different species and felt foolish bringing a book about animals on board. Lost in thought, Josef overheard the chatter of his ship's Boatswain's Mate over the sound of the rolling waves.

One of the BMs was BM1 John Handson, a seasoned veteran who had been with the ship for years. The other BM was Seaman Lena Zhao, one of the newest members of the crew. With only 200 people on board, any new arrival quickly became a topic of conversation among the tight-knit crew. Lena's family had fled to an allied country just before their homeland was overrun by imperial forces, leading her to harbor a deep dislike for them. In contrast, Handson was a highly respected leader in charge of the entire navigation department and held extensive knowledge about anything related to ships. There were times when Josef had to swallow his pride and ask Handson for guidance on naval matters, but he knew it was necessary to become a better captain.

"Left setting makes the ship go faster but burns more fuel. The right setting makes the ship go slower but burn less fuel," pointed Handson to a control consul.

"Ok, Left go slow, right go fast," Says Zhao. It has been a question for everyone on board why Zhao still has a problem speaking Alliance Common, given that she was born and raised in an Alliance country.

Handson visibly getting frustrated said "No Left fast, right slow".

Zhan, seeing the frustration in Handson said with a joking tone, "BM1, I am just kidding".

Handson looked at Zhan's face now and said in a joking tone. "One day, Zhan, I will throw you overboard."

Everyone on the bridge giggled, including Josef, as those two have been the only real reason why the crew has not gone crazy based on how boring it is. Josef wanted a fun day where the crew could let loose and have some fun, but the nature of patrolling the border requires the crew to be on full alert. Making him regret the idea of not bringing in books about animal watching because he is almost reaching his limit regarding how boring it can be. In the back of his mind, he almost wishes for an imperial ship to approach the border.

As the day drags on, Josef is overcome with exhaustion, his body yearning for rest and solace. His mind wanders to thoughts of the cook's delicious creations awaiting him before he can retire for the night. He glances at his watch and mutters, "Just two more hours, Joe. Only two more hours before you can sleep." He can't let the bridge crew catch him nodding off. With great effort, he fights to stay awake.

Suddenly, the captain's phone rings, jolting Josef to full awareness. "Go for skipper," he answers in a crisp voice.

Fisher's urgent tone breaks through the silence on the other end. "Sir, unknown surface contact bearing 270, 40 miles out. CDC identifying, type unknown."

At that moment, Josef curses himself for ever wishing for some excitement. He turns to the bridge officer and orders, "Have boats call for general quarters and ready the helo for recon."

As soon as the bridge watch officer relays his command, the ship's alarm blares throughout the vessel, and BM1's voice echoes through the halls. "General quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battle stations. This is not a drill." The entire crew springs into action, rushing to the gear locker and hastily donning helmets and bulletproof vests.

Ten minutes later, a helo departs from the ship and heads towards the mysterious target. As they wait anxiously for updates, the tension on board is palpable. The crew members' faces are taut with apprehension, their knuckles white from gripping their helmets and vests tightly. Even the ocean seems to hold its breath, with waves frozen mid-motion.

Josef's phone rings again, and he listens intently. "Joe, we picked up the target too. What do you think it is?"

Josef responds with a heavy sigh, "Most likely an imperial ship trying to cross our border."

"Don't those Imperial bastards ever leave us alone?" says Leo.

"Not in this lifetime," Josef replies with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity as the entire bridge crew watched the radar display, their hearts racing as they tried to pinpoint the unknown target. Suddenly, a voice crackled through the speakers, causing everyone to jump in their seats. "Shield, overwatch. Target identified: Imperial Navy. Domination Class Destroyer." Josef's heart sank at the news. The Domination class destroyer was a formidable patrol ship equipped with advanced sensors and radar systems. Despite being an older design compared to modern standards, it was still a potent threat.

With a sense of urgency, Josef picked up the phone and connected to OPS again. "What kind of threat are we looking at, OPS?" he asked.

Fisher's response was quick and efficient. "One 120mm deck gun, fifty VLS cells, two 6 times Heavy spearfish anti-ship missiles. Electronic warfare system and 2 naval helicopters, sir."

Josef hung up the phone and turned his attention back to the radar screen. He could see the red blip of the imperial ship slowly approaching the outer layer of their Naval Identification zone. "Connect me to that ship," he commanded, ordering the bridge watch officer to try to hail the imperial vessel.

His body tensed as he waited for a response, knowing all too well that this was a common tactic used by the Imperial Navy to gather information about their enemy ships. They were trying to force them into revealing their capabilities and weaknesses.

In frustration, Josef picked up the phone again and dialed Captain Leo on board their sister ship, Vigilance. "Leo, they're trying to force us to show our hands," he said urgently.

"I know those imperial bastards are trying to gather information about our beautiful ships. I won't even give them a glimpse," replied Leo with determination in his voice.

The watch officer's voice trembles as they relay the message from the Imperial Ship. Josef's grip on the phone tightens as he takes a deep breath before responding, every muscle in his body tense with anticipation.

"Imperial Ship, this is ANS Defender of Task Force 14," Josef barks into the receiver. "You are in violation of United Country Order 114 and must turn back immediately."

Silence greets his words once again, causing Josef to repeat himself. But suddenly, a calm but defiant female voice breaks through the static on the bridge speaker.

"We are following an established shipping route and are protected under international maritime law," she declares. "We have filed all necessary paperwork with the International Office. You have no right to stop us."

Josef curses under his breath, knowing that these imperial officers are trying to play them for fools. He dials the vigilance on his phone, determination hardening his features.

"You heard that bastard," he says to Leo. "They're trying to mess with us in our own country."

Leo's response is immediate and resolute: "Couldn't let them have the win, Joe."

With a renewed sense of purpose, Josef reconnects with the imperial ship and speaks directly to their captain.

"This is Commander Josef Alderiaz of ANS Defender," he says firmly. "You do not have permission to continue on your current path. I repeat, you do not have permission to enter Alliance borders. Turn back immediately or face escalation."

But instead of backing down, a male voice responds from the speaker with a hint of amusement lacing his words.

"This is Senior Commander Caztai Vartine, captain of Victory at Huitao," he announces. "I know you're just tired and trying to do your job, and I understand that. But here's what will happen: we will stay put until your higher command contacts you, and then we will continue on our path. No need for hostility between us, right commander?"

A hidden venom in his words sends a chill down Josef's spine. He knows this senior commander is toying with them, and he can't let that stand.

"I will not stand by while you flaunt your arrogance and disregard for our laws," Josef responds icily. "You may have filed paperwork, but it means nothing if it doesn't follow protocol. You will turn back now or face the consequences."

Caztai's laughter echoes through the bridge, his smug smile taunting Josef. "What consequence are you talking about?" he mocks, "Will you fire upon us? Send us to our doom for your wounded pride?" His words only fuel Josef's anger, his grip on the phone tightening.

"Smug bastard," Josef curses under his breath as he reaches for the communication console. Before he can speak, the OPSO's voice booms over the speakers. "Sir, we've received orders from high command. They're telling us to let the Imperial ship pass."

In a fit of rage, Josef hurls the phone to the ground. He picks it up again and dials Vigilance, his voice shaking with fury. "Did you hear what command is ordering me to do?" he screams into the receiver.

"Those spineless politicians," Leo growls in response, his own voice seething with anger. "They're selling us out."

"I know what my orders are," Caztai interjects smugly, his laughter audible through the comms. "If you have nothing else to say, we'll continue on our voyage. I hear the Alliance has some beautiful ports and women waiting for us." His men join in on the laughter, further enraging Josef.

With no other options, Josef can only watch helplessly as the Imperial ship crosses into Alliance waters. But he silently vows to make Caztai pay for his arrogance and high command for their betrayal.

Out of nowhere, a blinding flash of light erupts from the Vigilance as four missiles hurtle toward the imperial ship. Josef's heart races with fear and confusion as he desperately connects to Leo for answers. "What in the world is going on? Why are you firing? Are you out of your mind?" he shouts.

Leo's response is frantic and panicked. "One of our sailors went rogue and launched without orders!" he blurts out, his voice trembling with adrenaline. "We have to let the Empire know!"

As Josef scrambles to reach the Imperial ship and warn them about the incoming missiles, he notices four rapidly moving objects on the radar screen, closing in on the imperial ship. Three of them suddenly disappear, but the last missile hits its mark with a deafening explosion that sends smoke billowing across the horizon.

A fierce voice booms through the bridge comms before they can even process what has happened. "Alliance ship, you will pay dearly for this act of aggression. You have declared war against the Empire!" The angry voice cuts off abruptly as Josef frantically tries to reconnect with the Imperial ship, only to realize that all communication has been cut off. Dread settles in his stomach as he realizes the grave consequences of their actions.

Eighty years have dragged by since the United Empire's iron grip on the western territories and the Union of Peoples Revolution's bloody uprising in the east tore apart the continent. And caught in between, like a helpless mouse between two ravenous cats, lies the United Defense Alliance, a ragtag coalition of small nations fighting for their very existence. As a new war ignites, Elijah knows he must survive until the end to reveal the truth about his city's fate. But with the Imperial forces closing in, will his words ever reach the outside world or will they be silenced and rewritten by the enemy's propaganda machine?