The Baghdad Incident

[unscratchedfoot]

So when does this story continue? I hope soon. I remember your Mexican story which was the last story I ever voted for on the vote thing.

[Lycurgus]

As you will see there has been a 'slight delay' in continuing this story, but I thought that I might as well finish it. Feedback is always appreciated. I should perhaps mention that there are some rather gory scenes of battle in this story.


The sirens droned on into the night as people ran for cover, desperate to find shelter before the bombs began falling. The menancing hum of aeroplane engines could already be heard in the distance and the people knew what awaited them. Militia stood guard at the entrance to the shelters, making sure that some sort of order was kept, but even they had a look of fear on their faces. The shelters were fit to bursting, the town council hadn't had time to build more and many of the shelters they had provided were delapitated, from the last war with the Persians four decades earlier. The subvia stations were crowded with a fearful populace desperate for shelter from the oncoming rain of fire; the underground trains had been stopped, some of them not making it to a subvia station and having to wait in dark tunnels with their scared passengers wondering when the bombs would fall.
Many cried out as the first bombs hit the town, the earth shook as explosion after explosion ripped through the centre of the town. In the shelters and subvia stations the people prayed to the gods for deliverance as plaster and masonry crumbled from above. The roar of the bombs was deafening, drowning out the wail of the sirens and permeating the entire town.
On the rooftops the valiant men of the V Cohort, XXXII Legion manned the anti-aircraft guns, vainly firing round after round at the swift jets speeding above. The men of the II Century, V Cohort, XXXII Legion were manning the town's meagre missile defenses, loosening off the few missiles they had left in a desperate attempt to stop the onslought from the skies. The men knew it was hopeless, the Korean bombers had bombed the town of Trajanarea for the past two weeks and they had only managed to shoot down seven of them. Appeals for air cover ha dbeen rejected by the Imperial Defence Ministry because of the intense battle for the skies over Persia and in North Africa; Trajanarea was simply too unimportant it seemed.
As the frightened populace huddled beneath the streets a lone Korean missile hit the shelter on the corner of Lucian Piazza. The missile managed to hit the air vent and searing hot flames were soon charging towards the people inside. A wave of heat was all that the Romans beside the air pump inside the shelter felt before their skin melted from their bones and their organs burst under the intense heat. Those further inside the crowded shelter had little more time as the wall of fire tore through them, engulfing their clothes and hair before searing their skin off. Perhaps fortunately for thos einside, the explosion also brought the roof crashing down, killing many instantly. Those who were still alive desperately tried to crawl to the exit, thick black smoke choking them and intense heat ripping their bodies apart. None emerged alive.

"This can't go on!" Legate Marcus Commidius bellowed as his fist came crashing down on the desk sending maps and papers flying into the air.
"Legate, I understand your situation, but ..." Senator Petronius started, but was cut off by the Legate.
"I don't think you do Senator! Last night a Korean missile hit one of the shelters in Trajanarea, more than two hundred people were killed!"
"That is regretable of course, but what would you have me do?" the Senator asked.
"Give us some fighters, even a squadronw ould be enough to deter the Koreans from attacking so frequently; the people of this region need a rest from this constant bombing."
"You know that we cannot devert any resources, no matter how small from the Persian theatre; the Koreans have already overrun most of the Persian defences and it is all we can do to stop them from crossing the border into our own territory."
"Senator," the Legate said in a calmer tone, "if we do not have some form of air protection soon then this region will not be able to defend itself from invasion."
"The Koreans have no units in position to invade your region Legate and neither the Greeks nor the Mongols have sufficient or powerful enough armour to defeat the XLII, XLIII and LI Armoured Legions," the Senator replied.
"That is true Senator, but with Koreana ir support they will not need superior armour, eithe rin terms of quality or quantity."
The Senator sighed, "Very well, I will transfer three missile batteries to your region, but that is all we can spare."
"Thre emissile batteries is not nearly enough to ..." it was the Legate's turn to be cut off.
"Legate," the Senator snapped, "I have made my decision and you will receive three missile batteries, is that clear?"
"Yes Senator," the Legate answered, "Hail the Imperator".
"Hail the Imperator," the Senator replied raising his hand before the video connection was terminated and the screen in front of the Legate went blank.

"Consul," Legate Metilius began, "I have received word that a Korean battle group has been spotted in the Pacific, it looks a sif they are heading towards Poseidon's Cove, there is only a small detachment of ships to defend the base and very little air cover."
"That is a serious diversion of resources they are making," the Consul said.
"It is sir, but if Poseidon's Cove should fall into enemy hands it would give them an almost free hand in the South Pacific and they would almsot certainly be able to take our colonies there without too much effort."
"Do we have a battle group we cans end?" the Consul asked Senator Petronius.
"In short, no," the Senator answered, "all our ships are committed to protecting the Canal, the Pillars of Hercules and ensuring that our sea links with the American colonies stay open; we also have significant commitments in the the Carthaginian theatre, especially West Africa where we have been providing support for Carthaginian forces attacking Babyloanian coastal towns."
"I want you to gather any ships you can, take every ship that is not absolutely vital and send them to the Pacific," the Consul commanded.
"Consul," Legate Metilius said, "it is not just the Pacific, we have reliable intelligence that the Koreans are preparing for an assault on Persepolis by air."
"Persepolis is thirty miles beyond their front line, they would risk an airborne attack, would they?" the Consul asked the legate.
"I'm not sure sir, the fighting has been very difficult on both sides over the last two weeks, both ourselves and the Korenas have taken heavy casualties and the Koreans know that if they don't make a breakthrough soon we will be able to deploy superior forces to them in the area, making a a victory very much more doubtful."
Senator Petronius joined in, "I think the legate is correct, the Koreans have to make a breakthrough soon or they risk putting themselve son the defensive."
"Very well," the Consul replied, "divert CIII and LXXV Legions to Persepolis and increase the number of missile batteries in the city."

"Legate!" the young militus cried out as he stared at his radar screen.
"What is it?" the legate asked as he strode across the bridge of the ship towards the radar station.
"Sir," the militus answered, "I have three aircraft on an intercept course, it looks like they have fired missiles."
"Sound battle stations!" the legate ordered.
"Intercept in two minutes," the radar operator shouted over the wail of the klaxons.
"Prepare countermeasures," the egate ordered turning to face the primus militus in charge of weapons.
"Yes sir," the man answered as he pushed various buttons on his console and readied the ship's response.

"Intercept in thirty seconds," the primus militus informed the legate.
"Fire!" the legate ordered. A roar of white light and flame filled the night sky as the first of the ship's Neptune missiles was released towards the incoming missiles. Another two Neptunes were soon in the air and the the Roman bridge crew waited for word from the primus militus of their fate.
"Two enemy missiles down," the primus militus informed everyone, "but the third is still in the air."
"Hard to starboard!" the legate screamed at the helmsman. As the ship lurched to stardboard the primus militus released the ship's last line of defence, fragmentation devices designed to cause an enemy missile to explode before hitting the ship.
The incoming missile tore threw the cold sea air towards the Roman ship, clouds of shrapnel lay in its path, but onwards the missile flew. "Countermeasures have failed!" the primus militus exclaimed, his fear now surfacing.
"All hands brace for impa ..." the legate's command was drowned out by an almighty crash as the missile slammed into the side of the ship. A blinding flash of light ran through the ship, temporarily blinding those unfortunate enough to gaze upon it. The ship lurched forwards sending crewmen crashing into walls and through doors, then suddenly the ship rocked backwards, sending those who had managed to steady themselves back to the deck. The noise of the klaxons resonated throughout the ship and thick black smoke billowed through the cramped corridors and decks, covering crewmen desperately trying to reach the upper decks and causing them to splutter and choke. Fire had by now broken out, swiftly spreading along the ship, intense waves of heat thwarting those attempting to get close enough to tackle the blaze with extinguishers or hoses.
The legate clambered back to his feet and stumbled across to the intercom, an unconscious crewman was slumped next to it, blood pouring from his head. The legate shouted into the intercom for the ship's engineer, but there was no answer
In engineering water was rapidly filling the compartment; the crew had tried forcing the seals shut, but the water pressure was too great as more and more flooded in. Desperate men made for the exits, seeking the relative safety of the decks above. Everywhere fire was spreading, heat and smoke making some decks no go areas.
On the bridge the legate screamed into the ship's communication system the order to abandon ship before looking around to see who needed help. Three of the bridge crew lay on the deck or draped over consoles, unconscious from the initial blast. The legate ordered the remaining bridge crew to help their comrades out onto the deck to the life boats, he was going to try and get a signal to Fleet Command.
The decks were now filling with men all seeking the lifeboats, some were preparing them as others tried their best to attend to the wounded. Suddenly they all looked up, as they heard the roar of a jet engine, in time to see tracers heading towards them. As the Romans dived for cover cannon rounds tore up the deck of the ship, many didn't manage to make it to cover in time and were cut down like blades of grass. Screams filled the air as the enemy jets circled again and another round of their cannons ruptured the frail bodies of the Roman sailors. Men were slipping on the streams of blood now running over the deck as they tried to take some sort of cover, but it was no use. The cannon rounds continued to slam into the deck, catching fleeing sailors, puncturing their organs and cracking their bones.
The legate dived for cover as the bridge exploded in a hail of cannon rounds. Shards of glass tore through the bride like needles, peppering the last of the fleeing bridge crew. The primus militus fell to the deck, long, sharp shards sticking from the back of his head and his back, his blue uniform turning a deep crimson as his blood seeped from his wounds. The legate looked on in horror, paralyzed for a moment before he crawled over to the primus militus, but it was too late, on eof the shards had hit him with such force that it had pierced his skull and gone straight into his brain, the man was dead.
Pulling himself up the legate scrambled over to the weapons station, the ship still had power and the missile system was still functioning. Frantically pressing the relevant buttons and enetering commands the legate turned to look out of his shattered bridge as an enemy jet thundred past; the legate paused for a moment as he watched the jet come about and start to bear down on his ship once more before pushing gently with his finger at the red button on the console.
The deck outside was a scene of complete carnage with body parts strewn across the deck where they had been blown off by the cannon rounds. Blood covered everything and everyone, bits of organs and shards of bone stuck the remaining crew and the stench of death hung in the air. The traumatised crew huddled behind whatever shelter they could find as the screech of the klaxons and the screams of the dying resonate din their ears. As they cowered in terror they saw a bright flash and then there was a tremendous whooshing sound, as they looked around them many saw a lone missile thunder from the front of the ship and arc its way towards an incoming enemy jet.
The jet swerved back and forth to avoid the Roman missile, but its attempts were in vain as the missile drew closer and closer until a ball of fire erupted where the jet had just been. The crew cheered as the plumes of fire and smoke trailed down towards the sea, suddenly lit up by the ball of light above. The other two jets swerved around to the ship again as two more missiles slipped from their housings and charged towards their targets. The crew stood and watched the two trails of white fire burning through the sky as they crept nearer the two enemy planes; the night seemed suddnely still as they watched the enemy jets sway back and forth, turn, duck, climb and dive in an effort to escape their doom. The dance could not last forever, however, and first one and then both the jets exploded like fireworks, sending bright flaming debris into the night before hitting the cold waves.
On the bridge the legate slumped down at the console, pain shotting through his leg. Looking down he saw a jagged piece of glass sticking out from his thigh; pulling it from his flesh and wrapping his handkerchief around the wound he staggered out onto the deck to see to his men.

"Primus Legate Hispania Maximus we have just received a communication from the I.R.S.Neptune's Fist," the optio announced to the head of the Roman Navy, who was at that moment poring over battle plans.
"Go ahead," the primus legate ordered.
"Sir, it has come under heavy attack from three Korean fighter jets and has taken heavy casualties; the ship is currently taking on water and requires immediate assistance, they have already put out a mayday signal."

[Paddy]

thank you for this

[Lycurgus]

“Were is the Neptune’s Fist now?” the primus legate asked the optio.
“Eighty miles off the coast of Britannia, the Korean jets must have been operating out of Mongol bases” the optio replied.
“Are the Britons aware of the attack?” the primus legate asked.
“We can’t be sure, but they must have seen both our vessel and the Korean jets on radar sir” the optio answered.
“Do we have any ships in the area?”
“The nearest ship is the Marius Sarcinarium, a transport ship.”
“How far is it?”
“More than forty miles sir.”
“Divert it immediately.”
“Yes sir, but …”
“Yes? Is there a problem optio?”
“There is sir, we have reliable information from I.R.S. Tridentifer that a Mongol warship is in the area, the Tridentifer was following them for several days, but they lost them.”
“Class?”
“It’s the Kublai sir” the optio sighed.
“WHAT?!” the primus legate bellowed, “the Kublai?”
“Yes sir, it must have slipped out of port without us detecting.”
“OBVIOUSLY!” the primus legate’s anger was apparent, “I want every ship we have in the area to converge on the Kublai, we aren’t going to let the pride of the Mongol navy get away!”

“Legate we have word that the Koreans have begun their attack, reports are coming in of paratroops landing at Persepolis” Optio Iulius Boetius reported to his commanding officer, Primus Legate Flavius Flavian Scipio Africanus Germanicus Mesopotamia Osroene Maximus.
“Send word to CIII Legion to move up to the city and reinforce the defenders, LXXX and XC Legions are to engage any enemy forces attempting flanking moves, X, XXII, LIX and LXXXI Legions are to remain in reserve.”
“Yes Legate.”

“Take aim!” the optio ordered the legionaries positioned on the roof of the old Persian Imperial Palace. The soldiers levelled their rifles and prepared to squeeze their triggers. “FIRE!” A volley of fire erupted from the rooftop, little specks of light arced upwards towards the descending Koreans. All across the city a hail of gunfire lit up the night sky, Koreans floating down on their parachutes felt hot metal tear through their bodies, there was nothing they could do but drift towards the ground screaming in agony.
The drone of planes resonated overhead as the Roman defenders sprayed the sky with machine gun fire, desperately trying to kill as many of the enemy as possible. Korean and Roman fighters tore at one another, missiles streaking across the heavens, explosions lighting up the defenders below. Still the Korean transports droned on, wave after wave of men threw themselves from the planes, clutching at their machine guns. As they got closer to the ground the paratroopers started spraying bullets at the city beneath their feet.
Suddenly the sound of machinegun fire was interrupted by a monumental explosion, flames crashed upwards and the Romans turned to see Korean missiles slam into the centre of the city. A wave of Korean jets came smashing towards the Imperial Palace, their cannons spitting death towards the Roman defenders on the roof. As the Romans lay on the roof, hoping that the sandbags would soak up the Korean shells, two missiles impacted the side of the palace. It was like watching a house of cards collapse as the building fell apart. A lucky few managed to escape, but most of the Romans inside were smashed to pieces by falling debris or crushed to death as the walls came tumbling down.

“Legate,” the optio started, “Korean jets have hit the Imperial Palace, we have heavy casualties; we have reports from IV Cohort, XXXIX Legion of heavy attacks from Korean troops in the old quarter; I, and III Cohorts, XXI Legion have been wiped out, Korean troops are shelling the Communication Centre with mortar fire and missile battery VII has been destroyed.”
“Intensify anti-aircraft fire and send in XII Armoured to the old quarter” the primus legate ordered.

“FIRE!” the centurion screamed at his men as he himself blasted away with his pistol at the advancing Korean troops. The Koreans were shooting back, bullets thudded into the Romans, some blocked by flak jackets, others ripping through flesh and spilling blood. The Roman soldiers of II Century, II Cohort, V Legion were holed up in a small warehouse, they had been forced to abandon their position by heavy Korean attacks and were now trying to hold their ground. It wasn’t easy, bullets were slamming into the walls of the warehouse as the Romans inside shot back from the windows. Occasionally a Korean bullet would find its mark and another Roman soldier would slump to the ground. The Centurion in charge was holding his arm tightly, trying to ignore the pain of the wound where a Korean soldier had stabbed him. “Centurion, we can’t hold them” the optio said.
“We can’t retreat optio, we must hold our position, the rest of the cohort has either been killed or fled, we are all that stands between them and the river.”
“We are down to fifty two men sir.”
“Just keep firing, throw everything we have at them!” The optio nodded and returned to his position at the window, his pistol cracking off another couple of shots. Suddenly the door to burst open and a group of Korean soldiers came running in firing their machine guns.” Four Romans were killed instantly, the rest managed to either dive for cover or return fire. The Koreans gyrated as the Romans pumped their bodies full of bullets, so fierce was the hail that their screams just came out as gurgles; blood seeped from the shattered bodies, they were dead before they hit the ground. Behind them another group of Koreans stood, they fired their machine guns into the warehouse, but the Romans were prepared now and they didn’t hit a thing. The Roman response was swift, more blood flowed as more Koreans died.
A small thud caused the Romans to turn their attention to the floor; a small metal canister was rolling along towards the back wall of the warehouse …