The Wrong Side of the Border

[Auileria]

West Timira Strait (OOC: in absence of an official name)
1911 (0011 UTC), 9 March 2022

Cdr. Rhinehart looked up from his book when the PA system turned on.
"Commander to the bridge. Commander to the bridge please."

He took a few seconds to read the rest of his sentence and collect himself and then reached for his coat and cap, leaving the book on his desk.
As he walked the corridors towards the bow, he felt the engines quiet down. His gait quickened.

Putting on his cap at the last moment, he climbed the last ladder to Northerly's command bridge.

"Commander on deck," Lt. Mayner announced. The present officers and sailors stood to attention.
"As you were. What's up Mayner?"

"We spotted a lifeboat sir. Bearing nine-two. I'm bringing her about."

Rhinehart picked up a set of binoculars and scanned the horizon.
"There, sir." One of the sailors on spotting duty pointed.
He adjusted his view and found the lifeboat. Regular flashes were coming off it in their direction.

"I've got it from here."
As Mayner announced the change of command to the ship, Rhinehart put down the binoculars and moved to the middle. "Bring us closer."
"Sir, yes sir."

When Northerly was close, she cut her engines and drifted alongside.
Rhinehart picked up the microphone of the PA system and nodded at one of the officers at the controls, who turned a switch. When Rhinehart spoke, his voice echoed over the waters of the Timira Strait.

"This is Commander Rhinehart on the SMS Northerly. We're picking you up. When aboard, you'll follow the directions of our officers exactly. For everyone's safety, you will be searched for weapons upon boarding."

"What are they doing?" Mayner stood at the front of the bridge, looking down at the life boat at starboard below. The twenty or so passengers all had their hands on their head.

Rhinehart frowned. "They don't look like military." All were in civilian clothing with no apparent markings. He stood contemplating the mystery for a few moments more and then decided. "Lieutenant, you have the helm."
He went for the exit and headed towards the deck, where a rope ladder was being lowered down the side.

The moment they were helped up the last bit of the rope ladder by sailors, the first passengers put their hands back on their head. They looked around at the crew as if they expected to be assaulted by them at any moment.

One of them was saying something. Rhinehart had to step closer to hear.
"Kapitulera. Vi kapitulera."
The chant was soon picked up by others and grew louder. "Kapitulera. Kapitulera. Vi kapitulera. Serun-der. Vi serun-der."

Rhinehart did not need the murmur behind him to understand.
"They're Olbraskians."

In that instant, Cdr. Rhinehart knew there would be trouble. Trouble far beyond their humble patrol frigate.

He grabbed the nearest sailor. "Call Lt. Mayner. Tell her I need to speak to Naval Operations and it can't wait 'til after supper."
"Sir, yes sir." The sailor wasted no time in speeding to the nearest intercom phone.

[Auileria]

2237 (0337 UTC), 9 March 2022

SMS Northerly cut through the water, tailing the cargo ship 40 miles ahead of it. Once they'd picked it up on the active radar, it had been easy to keep a read on it and shadow its course.

After some stunted questioning it had become clear that the Olbraskians were the crew of a civilian ship taken over by pirates. Rather than deal with them, the pirates had put them in a lifeboat and left them behind. The captain and first lieutenant were still on board and were being held hostage. Rhinehart had allowed one who spoke their language the most on the bridge to help them identify their vessel from the handful of reads they had on the radar, after which he'd been sent back to the quarters where they were confined for now. They'd received orders from Naval Command to keep an eye on the vessel, and nothing more. They'd been keeping lazy pace for the better part of two hours now.

SMS Gale was making best possible speed to take over from Northerly so they could return to port and deliver the civilians to harbour authorities. What would happen to them then who knew?

~~

2358 (0458 UTC)

"Commander Rhinehart, when you arrive at base you're to hand the prisoners over to the Altbruk Royal Guard detachment waiting."

Rhinehart clenched his fist against his side, a sign that his superior in Naval Command and the commander of SMS Gale fortunately could not see throgh the three-way radio connection.

"With all due respect, sir, they're not our prisoners."

He exchanged a look with Mayner. What the hell were they thinking up there? Surely they would return these people to their country and families as soon as humanly possible.

"Regardless. These are your orders."
"Understood, sir."

~~

0828 (1328 UTC), 10 March 2022

An hour after sunrise, SMS Gale suddenly increased it engine power. It had just gotten its orders: catch up with the hijacked vessel and take it by force. The heli crew started prepping the NH70 on the stern of the ship for take-off. The crew was put on high alert.

The frigate had no trouble catching up with the Handerson, a medium-size container ship, and within no time she was keeping pace out of range of small arms fire. After refusing to surrender when ordered to through the megaphone in three different languages, SMS Gale turned its 76mm gun for a warning shot across the bow. Meanwhile, the helicopter sat on the rear deck, ready to take off. This last chance at a peaceful resolution too was ignored.

The next shots came a few minutes later overhead, drawing the attention away from the rear as the helicopter soared past. On its second pass, the marines inside had chosen their targets. The bangs of assault rifle fire were barely audible over the splashes of another round of fire from the 76mm. Three of the pirates went down. One of the pirates was hit while already running away and tripped. He didn't get up. Before the pirates could reorganise, the helicopter lowered down two of the marines under support fire from above. Once the full marine squad had been lowered on the deck and was making its way up the deck, the battle was practically already lost for the pirates. In a last ditch effort, one of the pirates used the captain as a human shield. Once they realised they were surrounded and though they surrendered and let themselves be cuffed with plastic tie-rip-like restraints.

~~

1207 (1707 UTC)

SMS Gale turned at the head of the Altbruk harbour, breaking formation with the handerson. A tug boat was already coming forward to guide the commercial ship into port, where coast guard could secure it. Gale would continue on to its own military dock.

[Auileria]

-----
- Diplomatic Communique
- FROM: Olbrask, Presidential Office
-----
The Olbraskian government is shocked by the acts of piracy perpetrated by the Auily rebels on Olbraskian citizens and property. We are saddened by such an act of war that is in clear violation of the truce this government so graciously agreed to to prevent further bloodshed. We demand that the rebels return the hijacked vessel to its crew, and release said crew from being held hostage. If the rebels refuse this offer for a peaceful resolution we will be forced to consider other means to end this unlawful aggression against our citizens.
-----

[Auileria]

Village of Wane, 6km from the Auileria-Olbrask border
1519, 11 March 2022

The sight of military convoys was by no means a new one for the people of Wane but it had been a while since they'd seen them in these numbers. Dozens of trucks pcked with soldiers drive through the main street, joined by IFV's, artillery pieces loaded on flat trailers and even a few tanks. These columns had been heading for the border since this morning.

Officially, a 10km strip along the border was under Code Orange: prepare to evacuate. Many older inhabitants had not bothered to pack. This had happened before. Nothing ever came of it. Why bother? Their energy was better spent trying to convince the frightened younger ones of the same.

~~

Lorenz-line, Auileria-Olbrask border
Command Post G

Lt. Gen. Lichter heard someone approach. He lowered the binoculars and turned to see his radio man Pvt. Strassmann approach. The kid was barely twenty. Lichter knew part of why he picked the young ones, even if he didn't admit to it. It kept them off the front lines. Just in case.
Strassmann saluted. "The commander of the 16th for you, sir." He held out the radio to him.

The primary message was that the 16th Combined Infantry Division was in position. While he listened to the report, Lichter put the binoculars back to his eyes and stared across the layers off defenses to the other side. There was constant movement there. If you looked carefully you could see the Olbrask flag on the shoulders of soldiers patrolling the hills. Further back were the emplacements. A little to the left, a machine gun nest was setting up.
"Yeah, alright Armin. Not much time to chat I'm afraid." He grimaced. his friend and subordinate was a talker. "Report back in an hour."
"Will do Arthur. Sir."

"Sir if I may, what are you looking for exactly?"
Lichter broke away from his binoculars only to shake his head at the kid.
"Just studying the enemy line, private. What's it you think I'm looking for? Babes?"
"No, sir. I would never ... Excuse me sir."
Lichter was already back to scanning. "It's alright, Strassman." He rolled his eyes behind the lenses. "Why did you ask?"
"Well, don't we have scouts and lookouts to do that for you?@
"Yes."

The quiet that followed was nice. Wind whistled through the wooden and concrete structures of Section G. Occasionally it picked up and he could hear the creaking of the flag pole, only challenged for loudness by the flapping of its flag. Unfortunately, the calm didn't last long
"So is this it? Are we going to fight?"
Lichter sighed. "I hope not."
He could hear from the crackling of dirt behind him that Strassman had more on his mind.
"Yes, private?"
"I apologise sir, with all due respect, but you didn't answer my question."
"Ah." He studied the lines a little bit longer and then laid it aside.

"Come here." He beckoned the soldier to the edge of the command post, where they had a good view of both sides of the line. "What do you see?"
"Eh ..." Strassman looked down around and then uncomfortably at Lichter. "Soldiers digging in. Patrolling across the border. I'm not sure, sir ..."
"You see two armies preparing for battle. I see communication. Olbrask sends in a division, we send in one of our own. They send in another, we bring in a tank batallion. What you're looking at down there is a staring match. Who blinks first."
"We're not blinking, are we?"
For the first time the general smiled. "I sure as hell ain't, kid."
"How long are gonna be here? Not blinking."
"As long as 3rd Army Command and the Chiefs say we stay."
"So eh ... Do you think we'll give back their ship?"
"Not my department, private. You'll have to ask His Majesty the King."
"But ..."
He turned away. Nothing much interesting was going on anyway. "Between you and me, kid, I expect something or another will be arranged. We give them their damn ship back, they back off on the rhetoric for a while. You know, a quiet deal. Them lot stop cracking their knuckles at us." he gestured with the binoculars to the other side. "And we can all go home."

"So we're not going to war?" The kid sounded relieved.
"Hmm." Lichter gave him a pat on the shoulder before turning away. "Keep your weapon clean, private."