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Introduction
Following a decade of warfare, an uneasy peace has been declared among the world's remaining powers. The War of Aggression has ended with the detonation of nuclear weapons and the total annihilation of the Russian state. The Triple Alliance, war weary with its armies spread thin across two fronts, finally succumbed to the military juggernaut of the Coalition of Nations and signed a peace treaty. So, as the world's greatest armies slowly dwindle to their pre-1954 size, the world prepares for what seems to be a necessary peace. For what nation could wage war, with the threat of a nuclear holocaust? Apparently, only one.
Berlin, 1968
"If the Minister of Domestic Affairs has nothing more to add, I now turn the time to the Minister of Trade & Commerce for his weekly report," Bismarck, Iron Chancellor of Germany, said.
"Danke," the Trade Minister said. "Our Spice-Furs trade with the Babylonians continues to show profit, and with the approval of the ministry, will renew it upon its expiration. Likewise with the French Incense-Oil agreement. The English are prepared to pay fifteen gold for our excess Furs, in an act of goodwill, and I am sure the Zulu would also be receptive to a trade agreement. And the Persians have, uh, once again made a request regarding our uranium, although they have been somewhat more forceful in negotiations."
From the look of the other men, this came as no great surprise.
"If that is all...?" Bismarck asked, glancing questioningly at the Trade Minister. He nodded. "We will forego the rest of the reports, as I have matters of great importance to attend to."
The other ministers, although surprised by this, dared not ask. They had seen the wrath of the Iron Chancellor, and did not want to try and brave it.
Bismarck stood and walked to the large window behind him. He parted the heavy curtains and gazed at the city that sprawled beneath him. "Auric, if you would stay for a moment."
The War Minister looked at the back of the chancellor's head. "As you wish."
Bismarck gazed contemplatingly at the capital for a moment more, then turned to face his war minister. "I just received a report this morning; an aerial surveillance report."
"I have also seen it," the Minister replied.
"And what is your interpretation? Merely the Persian withdrawal?"
The battle hardened soldier, never one for politics, didn't mince words. "The only thing to keep the Persian schweineshunds from attacking us has been the threat of a Russian or Zulu attack. Now that the Russians have been destroyed and the Zulu down to nearly ten cities, Xerxes has nothing to stop him from driving a dagger into our underbelly."
"Except our nuclear deterrence," Bismarck replied.
"Sir, with the bulk of our Panzers along the English front, the Persians could easily attack us and get as far as Munich before we were able to mount a serious defense. We must still worry about an English counterattack." The minister thought for a moment. Perhaps, if we enlisted the aid of the French..."
"I am meeting with the French ambassador in two hours," Bismarck said. "What is your suggested course of action?"
"I believe we must consider the Persians a threat to the Fatherland and possibly his allies. The Persians will attempt a blitzkrieg through our southern cities and try to capture our uranium deposits near Munich and Nuremburg, and commence building their nuclear arsenals immediately. Therefore, our only course of action to prevent this from happening, is to launch a series of strategic nuclear strikes against the Persian armies."
The room grew oppressively silent. "You realize what will happen if we drop more nuclear bombs?" Bismarck asked.
The old soldier met Bismarck's gaze. "I realize what will happen if we don't drop those bombs."
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I am trying to post a map of the game, but having difficulty-help would be appreciated. Blue is Germany, purple is France, orange and green is English and Zululand, respectively. Red is Babylonian and Persia is the aqua/light blue? color.
Russia was located in what is now southwest Germany, and northeast Persia, and also part of southeast England, as Elizabeth was able to liberate some Russian cities of their German and Persian occupiers. France and Babylon were the least powerful countries in the Coalition, and did not gain any territory in the War of Aggression, and nearly lost control of the South Isle. (The rather generous Germans destroyed the occupying Zulu forces, and left the defenseless cities to the French and Babylonians.) Both France and Babylon are, surprisingly, naval powers, and a bit more cultural distinguished, as they have not had to participate in the countless wars between the western countries.
BTW, this is also a custom made map.
Also, let me know what you think!
Last edited by Verto on 07-08-2002 at 06:56
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German-Persian border - August 1968
3rd Persian Army Corp
Private Jones of the 2nd English Volunteer Division gave one last look at the vast expanse before him before heading back towards base. Why the Persians ordered them out on patrol duty was beyond him. What could the human eye see that the radar and satellites could not? Not even a bird could fly out there without being detected.
He idly followed the railroad tracks back to base, occasionally glancing around him. He patted his breast pockets for a cigarette, then remembered. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and continued.
He didn't hear it at first. As it got closer, he listened for a moment, then dismissed it. Finally, he turned around and looked up at the sky. There , he thought. The sunlight glinted off of metal. He fumbled around for his binoculars and finally found him. He pulled them out and pressed them against his eyes.
He first thought there were two of them, but as he brought the binoculars into focus the image converged into one. A plane, although he couldn't tell much beyond that.
He tried to steady his hands, and watched as the plane approached over head. He tilted his head farther back and nearly dropped his binoculars when the plane started firing at him. Clouds of dirt and dust rose up around him and the distinctive sound of gunfire filled his ears.
He dropped his rifle and vaguely wished the ground hadn't been leveled. He felt a burning sensation in his right leg as he dropped to the ground in a heap. He tried to get up, but when he applied weight to his leg it sent a bone chilling pain up the entire right side of his body. He collapsed on the ground, and watched as the plane flew past him and towards the base at New Persepolis.
He reached for his radio. "Lookout to Base, do you copy, over." He got no response. "Lookout to Base, do you read me?" He still didn't recieve anything.
He looked at the city and soon saw why. Armor was pouring out of the city in all directions, followed by military vehicles and soldiers. Unable to do much beyond crawl, he waited for them to overcome him. He waved frantically at the tanks, fast approaching.
It was too late; either the tank drivers didn't see him, or didn't care. He tried to move out of the way, but the tanks were moving too quickly. The tank towered over him, and the last thing he saw before the treads crushed him was a silver cylinder fly overhead. Then everything was gone. Moments after Jones died, so too did the city.
"Yes, Chancellor. It's been done."
 Attachment: civmap.bmp
This has been downloaded 155 time(s).
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The Dust Settles
The German nuclear strikes were successful in destroying the bulk of Persia's army. Crippling Xerxes' ability to take the German uranium deposits was not enough. Fearing another war, one in which all the Continent united against the Fatherland, Bismarck mobilized Germany.
Bismarck was resolute in his belief that out of the radioactive ashes of New Persepolis and her sister cities, a new Alliance would rise, led by the bloodied Persia.
Desperate in his attempts to keep Germany from fighting a war against the world, Bismarck - at the behest of his War Minister - quickly launched a blitzkrieg against Persia, hoping that a series of quick victories would convince the nations of the world to join Germany, or remain neutral.
Bismarck's army rolled into Persia in three main spearheads, leaving burned remains behind as they drove deeper into Xerxes' empire.
However, as the German Panzers neared the banks of the Persepolis River, Bismarck's fears came true. Knowing that a slow in the German offensive would allow Persia to regroup and the rest of the world to think, the Iron Chancellor had assembled Germany's largest army in the south.
This great army was created at the expense of Germany's borders. First tanks, then infantry, were pulled from Germany's western cities, and later from those captured from the English. Bismarck failed to see how he had left both east and west protected by scattered troops, as all his attention focused on one thing: Persia.
3rd Panzer Corp, Late September - 1968
Lieutenant Groeder hurried after the Marshal, attempting to keep up with his commander's quick pace. He took the stairs leading up to HQ two at a time, his once black boots making a heavy noise against the stone. He quickly jumped ahead of the Marshall to open the door for him.
The Marshall walked by with an almost dismissive salute as he entered what had once been the Forbidden Palace.
"Herr Marshal, an honor," a black uniformed officer said, appearing from a side door.
"For one of us," Marshal Eis said coldly. "I have not come from Berlin to listen to empty flatteries, General. Why have you stopped?"
"Excuse me, sir?" General Schmidt asked surprised.
Marshal Eis walked to a large window and pointed at a row of grey tanks. "Those Panzers - they are not moving. Those men are not marching. I want to know why."
"Sir, the supply line cannot keep up with our advance-"
"Then leave it behind," the Marshal replied, cutting him off. "Bismarck wants Persepolis, not a coward's excuses. Your men will move out in five hours."
"Yes, Herr Marshal!" the General said with a quavering voice. "I-"
He was drowned out by the piercing roar from overhead. Several of the officers ran to the windows and looked up. "Planes!" a lieutenant exclaimed.
Marshal Eis looked out the window, then turned to Schmidt. "Where are your anti-aircraft defenses?" he yelled.
"We-we have none!"
Eis shoved the general towards the door. "Then get out their and shoot them down with your pistols!" The Marshal was reaching for another officer when an explosion shook the captured palace. Outside, the air was filled with the screams of wounded while their fellow soldiers took cover as plane after plane flew past.
"Bombers coming!" a sergeant yelled as he and a few others began starting up the parked Panzers.
Eis ran to the steps and looked out where the sergeant had pointed. He squinted his eyes against the bright glare of the sun, then turned to Lieutenant Groeder. "Have one of these men take you to a radio. Raise whoever you can and tell them of our situation. Find out if we have any fighters nearby."
"Ja, Herr Marshal," Groeder said. He grabbed a nearby soldier and together they sprinted into the temporary HQ.
"Lauf!" Eis yelled as the bombers began to appear overhead.
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I was in the process of writing another chapter for this story, had about two pages worth, when my computer had a "kernel" error and shut down.
Sorry to those who enjoyed this story, and I am glad I was able to provide some entertainment, but I won't be writing any more for Nuclear Supremacy.
However, those who liked this story should check out my new one, Manifest Destiny. http://apolyton.net/forums/showthre...&threadid=54540
It is not the same story line, but I will be implementing a lot of ideas in it that I had thought of for Nuclear Supremacy, so you might like it too.
Also, thanks a lot for the contest nominations, I am honored. Once again, thanks for the comments, and check out Manifest Destiny if you haven't already.
God Bless America! (and, if there's time, all those other countries...)
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Berlin Weekly Post
For two months, the world has watched, both in astonishment and fear, as Persia slowly disappeared against the mighty forces of Germany, like the sand in an hourglass. The Persian Empire, secretly attempting to build nuclear weapons in which to terrorize the world, was caught off guard and sent reeling by a preemptive strike ordered by our Chancellor. Unopposed, German Panzers struck deep into the heart of treacherous Persia, reaching the Northern Plains within weeks. Encircling the capital of that treacherous country, the unstoppable juggernaut of envied Germany slowly tightened the noose around Persepolis, and the cowards hidden inside those crumbling walls cowered, fearing the arrival of those who would finally bring them to justice for their attempted betrayal of Germany.
Our brave men, fighting in that cess pit of traitors and cowards, are expected to return home soon, to a thankful Germany, and a world which will forever be in their debt.
I know this isn't much, but I may or may not be leaving for a day or two, and would be away from a computer.
Just consider this a teaser for the next part, which I have christened Chapter II: Beyond the Brink, and as always, let me know what you think about the story - the good, the bad and the ugly.
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A small, wiry aide quietly opened the door and peered inside. The vaulted chamber, built nearly two hundred years ago, was filled with heated debate.
The multi-sided table which dominated the room was caught in the middle of a battle between the various ministers, shouting back at each other.
He ducked outside when someone turned his way, then cautiously looked back into the room and listened.
"We have to take Persepolis!" Bismarck shouted. "I want that city!" He was waving his arms jerkily, his clothes rumpled. His hair was uncombed and he had grey stubble from not shaving.
"You have to face facts," the War Minister replied from the opposite side of the table. "We've lost nearly a tenth of our Panzers. Those left are damaged, their crews fatigued. The city's population is being armed and trained to fight us. If the bombers had been delayed by two days, Persepolis would have been taken. However, they weren't delayed; Persepolis is still in Persian hands. Our Panzers need to fall back - no more than thirty miles, to the nearest city. That way, they will be protected by the little AA defense we have, until the factories in Munich finish the first fighters."
Bismarck glared at the minister, his expression changing from anger to rage to insanity. "Retreat?! Three miles away from Persepolis and you want us to retreat?!"
"Only-" the minister started to reply.
"Never!" Bismarck shouted, slamming a fist on the table. "Germany does not retreat! We do not falter!"
"Then Germany will lose," the Minister of War replied calmly, seemingly oblivious to Bismarck's outburst. He wore his dark uniform, which he had donned since the war started.
"Might I suggest, if I may, that we enlist the aid of France and Babylon? We have brought Persia to her knees - let us be magnanimous, and allow our allies to help us cut up Persia into territories?" the Minister of Trade said.
"That would take time, but it is our wisest course of action," the Foreign Minister agreed.
"I agree, the War Minister said. "If we allow our allies take the eastern cities left, it would free up men to fight."
"What? You want me to give Persia to those SPECTATORS? Where has the Babylonian Navy been? At anchor - certainly not helping Germany. We gave them back their island, and in return? They stand by while we fight Persia.
No!"
"Ah, perhaps if we told them the truth, the seriousness of the situation, they would be persuaded to send reinforcements? England - possibly even Zululand - allied with Persia? A defeated Germany? They would most certainly have to help."
"DEFEATED? Germany is not defeated until Berlin is under siege! Cowards, all of you! If we cannot control Persepolis, then no one will! If Persia will not bow to the Fatherland, then they will accept their fate! If Germany cannot have Persia, nobody will!"
The aide, realizing what he was hearing, quickly shut the door and hurried down the hall, away from the wrath of Bismarck and the terrible words he had heard.
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October 28, 1968
General Schmidt read the hastily decoded report quickly, and paused when he reached the end. He looked up at the dishevelled soldier standing in front of him, the one who had brought the message to him, then back down at the report.
A stiff breeze brought a short relief from the oppressive glare of the sun and caused the paper to ripple; the printed letters glinted with sunlight, momentarily blinding Schmidt. Winter was right on schedule in Germany; here, it seemed as if summer wasn't quite ready to relinquish its grip over the land. He blinked, both against the dust the wind had brought and the salty sweat that had fallen from his brow. The words, hastily written, were still clearly readable, and the direct orders left no room for mistake, or negotiating.
Military Directive Order 03917
3rd Corp
Top Secret
URGENT
Organize and commence general withdrawal of the 3rd Corp to a position five miles north of the Hannover River (Schmidt almost smiled at the arrogance of whoever had decided to rename the captured cities, mountains and rivers before the war was over) immediately and coordinate with 1st Corp to set up a defensive perimeter against possible English strike.
All troops and equipment must in place 5 miles north of Hannover by the 3rd of November and maintain position there. No troops are to be allowed to cross the Hannover. Radio blackout in effect from Nov. 3rd to the 5th for all ; radio transmissions to resume at 1200 hours on the 5th. All troops are to be in quarters at 0100 on the 4th, and remain so until 0200.
He didn't bother to reread the last paragraph, a 'personal message from Bismarck to all the brave Germans fighting for their homes'.
Hannover? Schmidt folded the report and tucked it into his breast pocket. Withdraw nearly forty miles? When they were right on the outskirts of Persepolis? It didn't make sense - if Berlin would just provide air cover, send him more men and equipment, and if that idiot Kregel wasn't stuck in those marshes...it was all a matter of 'ifs'.
What was this business about radio blackouts? They want us to coordinate a defense against an English attack, and do so without radio?
He gazed at the rolling hills to the north, dotted with short stubby trees and surmounted by a tall, lone mountain peak in the distance. Thirty miles beyond that edifice lay the murky waters of the Hannover. That was where they had to be in seven days. He intended to make it there in half that time, even with the injured and the nearly disabled Panzers. The sooner he was there, the sooner he would be able to find out what all this was about. He dismissed the lieutenant, who had been standing at attention while Schmidt had studied the message.
Something tugged at the back of his mind, something he could almost remember. Almost.
Persepolis
"Look!" the black haired boy shouted. They're leaving! The Germans are going!"
At first, only silence greeted his announcement, and he frowned at that. Then, slowly, his companion stood up and took the boys binoculars from him and looked out at the charred plains.
"The-the Germans are leaving!" he cried, grabbing for his radio set. He quickly announced the news to the other men on duty, and soon the entire district was filled with cries of joy, astonishment, doubt and fear. Rumors spread as quickly as the news. An army from England was marching on Berlin; Babylon and France had come to the aid of Persia; the Germans had been fed up with Persia and were going to burn the entire country down; the generals had defected and a coup de'tat was going to overthrow Bismarck; Xerxes had capitulated to Germany. As the German army slowly disappeared, so did any semblence of order. Soldiers and civilians, both armed against the German attack that seemed imminent, broke into celebration, their posts abandoned.
Only the boy remained, watching in silence as the German Panzers slowly disappeared along with the last rays of sunlight.
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29-06-2002 06:43
I am sorry. If I do continue this story, it may be some time before I post more to it. I will more than likely start a new story from scratch. Thanks to johncmcleod for the positive feedback.
Hey c'mon! Finish the story!! 
Keep em comin!
Attachment: 
Keep going. Want it longer, more fighting. 
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