Raiders of the Sea of Sand

[Greywall]

The blistering sun held high above, burning everything with its relentless heat. Three men in uniforms were bound and tied up in the burning sand looking around at their captors, desert raiders of Diria, tribal sand lords and clansmen that remained in the vast deserts of Diria alone and wanting nothing to do with the outside world. A hot breeze blew as one of the men began making fear filled demands, "I want to speak to a Dirian Federation officer...you're part of the defense of this nation yes? I want accommodations! I am an Imperial officer of the Abbadoni House!...WHERE IS YOUR OFFICER!?" 

Silence. Just the breeze answered. 

One of the dark clothed figures slowly approached, at least 20 of them surrounded the three men, but this one walked forth and in a deep dry raspy voice said, "You want the...Feeederrration?" he said in a curious tone, struggling to say the word Federation. His accent was thick, old Sohili, he still tried to communicate to the upset Abbadoni, "You've come here, with your armies, unwelcomed, uninvited, and hostile. We took you out. Into La Muait. You came. You lost. You are here now." The Fennec's features could be seen as they removed the face covering of their outfit, scars and old eyes on a greyed face. "Your men. 100 of at least. Now dampen the sands with their blood." The Fennec smiled, "You will not suffer such an...easy fate." 

The Abbadoni began breathing rapidly, "You fucking! Animal pig dog fox fuckin asshole kill us and be done!" the Fennec pulled a knife out and walked over, the Abbadoni braced himself for death and....nothing. the ropes binding them were cut. "We take your water, your boots, your clothes you keep. But the rest we take." The Fennec lazily pointed all around with his knife, "Anywhere you go...desert. There, desert. There, desert. Even there," he stared right into the eyes "we thank you for the ammunition and rifles, water even. But you will need more than luck in La Muait." 

The Fennec's began to move leaving the Abbadoni behind, the officer kept shouting "You can't do this to us! Diria cannot do this to prisoners!" the Fennec who spoke turned and said "What's a Diria?" he smiled and covered his face to join his kin as they trekked back into the desert leaving the Abbadoni to wander the burning sands barefoot looking for sanctuary. 

They would not find any. 

[Greywall]

Aliz Sha-Sasaud, that's the name he was given at birth when his mother and father greeted the young Dirian Fennec to the world, inside a traditional desert yurt among his people. Aliz learned about the world they were in was a harsh one, hot and brutal it gave little mercy to those who didn't earn it. Diria was a tough country to grow up in, particularly for the rural tribes in the desert. Aliz's father was the tribal leader and before then his grandfather, great grand mother and so on.

Aliz was now the leader of his tribe, escorting them across the vast desert as they looked for a new place to hold up their women and children before a new raid was conducted. Lately the tribes of Diria had been stirred to a new cause, fighting the foreign invaders. Abbadoni troops were trying their damndest to hold the desert, the vast quantities of oil were desperately needed to feed the SU war machine. And in order to ship that oil, they had to trespass the tribal lands.

As the new encampment was built, Aliz took his warriors out to scope for Abbadoni and it didn't take long. A long convoy of trucks, mechanized infantry and trucks carrying armed troops all protecting several oil tankers primed and ready to be sent to Galra to the North. Aliz chambered a round in his .308 rifle before nodding to his people.

"Let us greet them"

[KyferLegs (Diria)]

---

"Shoot!" Another comrade down the line squeezed the trigger of their AT rifle; it was a part of the trade-in exchange for allowing the Dirians access to their land. The loud thud rang against the air, kicking up dirt and sending the user noticeably back. The sizeable combustive round went straight through the lead truck's cabin at an angle, only to finish its trajectory into the engine bay with a firey detonation. From a distance, the shooter could see the windows besmeared in red as the truck came to a disorderly stop while in flames. Quickly, the convoy followed short, trucks slamming on their breaks as troops got out, only to be cut down by the chaotic fire of Aliz and his nomad compatriots.

---

The Dirian southwest was always an enigma compared to the East and North corners of the Federation. The origins of its admission into the Dirian Confederation, then Federation, were known facts relating to wartime necessities and geopolitics. Still, the topic of its near and then thwarted succession has always been a controversial reality. Shawistan harbored its own distinctive culture, akin to the cultures of Abbadon and Shaum Shella, than Sohil or the Eastern States, with the local Shawistani language even able to be understood by the southern foreign nations, in contrast to the East having very different vocabulary. Regardless, the relationships with Abbadon and Shaum Shella were never marked by fondness even before the present era of Shawistan statehood. During the period of Shawi Sultans, the southerners were seen as rivals and competition over trade and local resources, and Shawistan was the master of its regional chessboard. With the fall of the Shawistan Sultunate, the modern-day residents of Shawistan still, if asked, see themselves as superior, unlike their historic southern adversary stuck in the past. Still, the new position Shawistan found itself forced its focus away from the outside powers and instead moved inwards. Shawistan urbanized, focused on its infrastructure, and monopolized its region as the Dirian gateway West, and the past became the past.

Now, Shawistan had a conventional society similar to the East, and in stark contrast to its direct southern neighbors, it was better off than Abbadon and Shaum Shella. Yet, it was still remote from the East, keeping its unique architecture and traditional culture vibrant, with only a narrow link of roadways and railways that held the two interconnected pairs together. However, upon the connection, the two sides of Diria grew, and the Federation's experiment defied all expectations. It was natural for the rivalry beyond just Shawistan to fester in the minds of the surpassed neighbors of Abbadon and Shaum Shella. Caught by surprise, especially by the underestimated Sultunates of the South being seen by the Dirian Government as nothing significant, the blow of them striking the Dirian underbelly and occupying the most influential lands and cities of old Shawistan that held the old, forgotten rivalry for centuries was humiliating, as did it whiplash the memories of those in Shawistan.

However, the upset of the status quo forced unlikely bonds. Unexpectedly, the other group, who had endured centuries of collective hatred and contempt, came to a lull. Nomads, minorities whose lands had already shrunk and diminished, had found an unstable peace, forced by their inability to resist the empowering Dirian Government. Yet, with another more significant threat, the Nomads, already desperate to defend their homes, found themselves in the same boat with the Shawistanis, who now had a new perspective of the other side. It was only beneficial to both sides to set aside their differences and take back what was theirs and their pride, and both the residents and nomads acted upon their initiatives to take revenge.

The Nardrac Sea and ports bordering such, as decades before during the revolt, would undoubtedly be crucial in surviving the storm that was Diria's desperate defense, especially with the help of the Commonwealth of Nations and expected UKUG aid that would come through the renewed western lifeline. Similarly, due to the East being deadlocked and Verak's attention being forced towards Amali, and at the same time, Galra being forced to turn to Reseria and Koi, there was a new breathing room to prepare. The initial shock and surprise were over; now was the time to prepare to strike. Abbadon and Shaum Shella were the most fragile Sovereign Union members around Diria. Abbadon, having failed in its invasion of Lusatia, the Dirians observed with satisfaction and consideration as their enemy floundered. The chance to break their occupation was too big to pass; with the Dirian's intensive reserves being called up in full and the male population mobilizing rapidly, the argument and consideration of low supplies were weighted. If a counterattack succeeded, and better yet, Abbadon and Shaum Shella were forced out of the war, Diria wouldn't be wholly encircled, and the Commonwealth of Nations and Entente would arrive in support. Regardless, with ambition came preparation, and now more battalions were funneled across the Trans-Nardras railway and roadways, and their time would arrive soon.

---

The locomotive rhythmically chugged, its drive rod and wheels working to their limit as the train and its rolling stock raced across the railway within Miriyad toward the west. Behind the main engine and the black-stained coal car were carriages upon carriages. Some were your standard passager layouts; others were cattle cars converted to harbor troops. Nonetheless, the layout worked, and usually, the trip had enough stops, breaks, or small comforts that it never became bleak. However, one couldn't deny the luxury of a weighted bed that the officers had, at least those with the power to decide wars, such as General Leonio Fahas. It could argued it was reimbursement for the task ahead and its requirement for the level of contemplation and emphasis necessitated. Regardless, there would be a counterattack, and the task or plan was already on paper, maps, and documents, but the resources for such was an ongoing problem. Despite that, one could reason that Diria had already turned around the front against Abbadon and Shaum Shella. Yet, at least from Fahas's perspective, the matter of frontlines was so convoluted that nobody truly understood the conditions of winning. For all he cared, the deserts in Shawistan were pointless, as the ones north with their oil were the true prized to behold. On the other hand, the ports were the golden ticket to winning the current theater. Though, with every maneuver, every victory, or defeat memorized or imagined in his head, Fahas couldn't help but pity those farther down the moving train and what would happen to Diria beyond if what was ahead of them all failed. Weighting the scale of his actions, and with no grand battleplan map or trustworthy individual to offer a perspective of the news he conveyed, he instead journaled upon the brittle pages before him, writing suppressed thoughts he'd never say aloud.

"I imagine aid will only arrive once the Dirian flag flies over Koshn and perhaps even Al-Madina. Opening up the bombed-out ports and ensuring ships can enter freely is another story, a question an army man such as myself can't answer. Yet, how much can we delegate our relief and salvation to foreigners? Will they genuinely come to our aid, or are we a distraction, a mere bump in the road so that they can buy themselves respite? Likewise, the entire scheme on our side, this eminent counterattack, is tormented with desperation and rashness. I can't help but reflect upon the staff meetings in Solis and my fellow compatriots around those grandiloquent wood tables, historic sculptures, and the murals of the bygone Dalidan Khanate. We all pretended this would be simple, but it's painless to feel cozy when the lives you offer to the reaper are but arrows and pins on a map. Alas, I do believe we all know the cost of defeat, not just the officers, but the moderate man, the common soldier. The desperation, our desperation, comes with an explanation, which may be why it becomes so austere in professional appearances or formal dialogue. In this manner, in our present reality, there will be no mercy or respite for the invader until victory; I merely agonize over how much we will lose of ourselves, morality, and our principles in the doing of this crusade, and will the deaths of our sons' and daughters' not be in vain? I suppose a perspective such as that is moot when this very well could be our last chance, for there will be no tomorrow for any of us if we fail.

---

Total Number of Dirian Personnel on The Front:

50,000 Standard Infantry Regiment
30,000 Heavy Infantry Regiment
1,000 Special Infantry Battalion
25 Elite Guard Platoon
750 Dragoon Infantry Squadron
250 Carabineer Infantry Squadron
250 Bicycle Infantry Squadron
240 Field Artillery Battery
130 Howitzer Artillery Battery
250 Mortar Artillery Battery
3 Siege Artillery Battery
1,500 Light Motorized Regiment
2,500 Standard Motorized Regiment
10 Armored Car Section

---

[Greywall]

General Musari Mousaad was in charge of the Abbadoni military operations in Western Diria and by extension in charge of the Shaum Shelan forces too. He was facing a horrid situation as the failure to take Nowa Lusatia left him in a weakened position and the raids from the desert tribes were crippling his supply runs. He was slowly being cut off from Galran and Veraki support. To make matters worse, the Dirian military was starting to form itself into a significant threat. If he could not retain control it meant the Dirian coast would be free to ship fuel and support to the greater war effort. 

His forces were ordered to consolidate in occupied Southwestern Diria, he needed to push the desert foxes out once and for all or face defeat. 


Abbadoni Royal Army

54,000 standard infantry
35,000 heavy infantry
9,000 carabineers 
250 field guns
65 Abbadoni light tanks
20 Veraki landships
25 Veraki tankettes
55 Veraki armored cars

Shaum Shelan Army

60,000 light infantry
20,000 standard infantry
100 carabineer (camel riflemen)
200 field artillery
35 Abbadoni light tanks


55 light biplanes 
20 Veraki interceptors

Operating for both nations as part of a Veraki aerial expedition force. 

25 light biplanes (actual Abbadoni airforce) 




The first move General Mousaad made was sending scouts, carabineers to ride and find the Dirians. He was utterly blind otherwise, locals refused to help, Verak was no help here. Galra practically only protected their own lines to keep Dirian oil pumping from northern wells into the Galran war machine pounding Reseria. In the hot sands of Diria, the soft underbelly of the SU was exposed. 

[KyferLegs (Diria)]

---

Ain Stabilya was an extraordinarily isolated village for its size; its primary cause of growth, or even existence, was a community for the workers and their families employed by the Dirian petroleum industry. In this case, the Dirian-Nardras Petroleum Company founded the town in early 1926 based on the new Federation policies and the subsequent work volunteer programs. However, unlike others similar in history, Ain Stabilya would garner another purpose: a rest stop for the long journey across the constantly functioning and expanding Trans-Nardras Railway. Nowadays, Ain Stabilya has two contrasts: the relatively humble housing units and small local businesses that existed in areas, then the persistent and sprawling marshaling yards of inbound and outgoing trains and their haul. However, once again, Ain Stabilya would find itself in another purposeful position: a staging ground. From this spot, the Dirians would prepare and thrust themselves into the looming storm. Quickly, whatever the Army could muster, Ain Stabilya's marshaling yards would receive. Dirian watchtowers and anti-air gun nests were deployed upon the foundations of humbling beginnings. Something big was afoot, and everyone knew it.

The Dirians, regardless, had to prepare. Offensive action couldn't just spontaneously happen, especially considering the situation of supplies and resources, which the Army had less of by the month. However, Diria had waited long enough for a respite, and sitting idly by for salvation would only result in the same unacceptable conclusion: defeat. Across the entire world, Diria witnessed the thrashing and failures handed to the CoN by the Sovereign Union. Marrlan, in their struggle and the enemies at their gates, Roskana was now forced out of the war and had become a conduit for Grinvel troops. Subsequently, the invasions by Galra within Touli escalated, and Koi received the support the Dirians couldn't get due to the blockade. No, Diria would have to act, and despite the odds, despite the risks, this was their chance to defeat the odds and give the world hope. Ironic as it was, there was one fact, one measure of consistency Diria had consistently pioneered and endured upon: It was the miracle not yet lost.

The attack and hopeful liberation of the West would consist of three Army groups. A, B, and C. A was the largest, consisting of the bulk and some of the best the Dirian Army could muster in the West. Army Group A would advance along the occupied sections of the Trans-Nardras Railway, liberating surrounding villages if applicable. Army Group B was flanking action, and they'd move to the southern town of Kuri to organize and advance west with endeavored swiftness. From there, they'd liberate any towns occupied, push southwest into Shaum Shella, and put pressure on local railways, supplies, and ultimately, the western half of the Trans-Nardras Railway with Army Group A. Finally, group C was diversionary, and they'd move north to Ain Bgourt to organize and advance northwest. From there, they'd liberate occupied towns and villages while moving towards the coast, putting pressure on the northern flanks of Abbadoni and Shaum Shellan lines. The Army and its leadership would build upon and organize the plan, code phrased as 'Shipment' internally, to prevent the SU from realizing, interpreting, or predicting the counterattack. Still, for now, the Dirians would probe the frontlines, sending dragoons and employing small groups of nomads to act as scouts and informants for weaknesses within their enemy's lines or if the enemy had any plans. At the same time, reinforcements from the east would arrive and be categorized into the army groups they'd be assigned to.

---

"The Shipment"
Destination A ~ Army Group A
Destination B ~ Army Group B
Destination C ~ Army Group C

---

Aliz Sha-Sasaud glimpsed into the sky, his brown eyes staring at the whispy clouds across the bright blue. In the corner of his eyes, the Dirian flag, its bright colors, fluttering annoyingly in the desert wind. He wanted to scoff. Hell, he wanted to rip it down and set it on fire. However, he'd have to make do it with, as the old proverb said, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend.' He loved his home and family more than he hated the Federation or the competing Darasae. For all he knew, for the sake of his land, he had to put his hatred aside and fight the claim they all shared.

Aliz looked down and stared into the not-so-far distance, the unfamiliar or uncomfortable structures hugging closely to the fences that quartered off the railyard. His right ear twitched, and then he turned, pivoting on his ankle and spooking the Dirian Staff Sergeant, who was still a couple of feet away. "What?" Aliz barked out, quickly approaching the Staff Sergeant despite their disparity in height. The Staff Sergeant hastily handed the fox a note with a map printed on its backside and a few Liras clipped in a nice roll as if he was avoiding a rabid dog. Then, the Staff Sergeant walked past the fox and vanished into the mass of rolling stock around them.

Aliz looked down at the note from a Lieutenant or his handler. It addressed him in a nearly toxic pleasantry about his recent work massacring the enemy and how he was getting extra Liras. Meanwhile, the note advised about upcoming 'movements' and told him to be aware of more friendly forces in his area. He scoffed, flipped the note, and looked at the map on the note's back with some surprise. They were sending him and his party south, closer to the border. He couldn't help but grin, the toothy impression coming off wicked as he thought of possibilities while pocketing the Liras and note.

---

Southwest Front Reinforcements:

100,000 Light Infantry

---

---

[Greywall]

The reports were bad, Dirians...thousands of them. Mousaad was looking at a defensive campaign instead of launching an offensive. His forces began digging in, more scouts were sent to find and keep an eye on the Dirians while scout aircraft prepared themselves to fly out and map out where they could coordinate an aerial assault to bleed down the Dirians somehow. 

Mousaad sent his report back to Abbadon, he made sure to emphasize the heavy need for reinforcements from Galra and Verak. The Galrans were not interested in committing more troops into Diria, holding to what they held and Verak was refusing to admit it was struggling in the urban East. That meant Abbadon and Shaum Shela were alone. 

At least for a moment. 

One nation did respond, Mestria, or at least the Northern Mestrians did. The fat grotesque grubs who ruled over the Northern states offered an astonishing 800,000 Rohka soldiers in exchange for as much oil and fuel Abbadon and Shaum Shela could send as well as hundreds of Abbadoni tanks and cars. The grubs wanted to break Southern lines and the only way to do that was to use armored units, if they broke the Southern trench lines in Mestria they would be able to allow Verak to build airbases to bomb Kumosenkan. 

It was a fair deal, Mousaad would get a massive horde to break Diria once and for all, Mestria would be won for the SU and airstrikes could hit Kumosenkan. The deal was struck, 800,000 mindless Rohka soldiers would be assembled and sent into the northern desert while Abbadon and Shaum Shela sent oil and vehicles to the Mestrian peninsula. 

It would take another season before he received his horde, so Mousaad had to survive until then. 

Abbadoni infantry manning a wall as reports of Dirian activity skyrockets

[KyferLegs (Diria)]

---

With preparations for a counteroffensive well underway, the Dirian top generals and army brass agreed that, realistically, their best expectancy was to push the southern sultanates out of Diria proper and, from there, judge the situation. If the Shawistani ports were liberated and the west's ocean trade reopened by the Entente's efforts, they could resupply the army with the aid of their allies. Any future offensives could be fully furnished rather than desperate or at least limited in their scope, giving more room for error and greater operational capacity. Regardless, numbers, speed, shock, and awe would be everything in the upcoming months of combat. Fortunately, each army group or "destination" would arrive en masse at their rally points, alongside 100,000 light infantry recently shipped in from the east and more coming. Finally, with Dirian numbers swelling as they were, many nomads, often in contact with Dirian leadership, began using the escalation of activity to advance their campaigns within occupied lands, providing more distractions within said zones.

Nevertheless, as more reports of Abbadoni or Shaum Shellan scouts and planes filtered through the ranks to the region's commanding officers, the Dirian army was ordered to act with extreme prejudice against the enemy's attempts to acquire information. Similarly, for the Dirian special forces, primarily saboteurs and its scouts, as they'd often be at the front or within enemy lines, their primary objective became to hunt or capture enemy leaders or scouts and guard all information about the larger army's current movements, positions, and their goals. Similarly, nomads and raiders, at this point many operating more as mercenaries for hire for the Dirians, would be given large rewards and compensation for bringing proof of hunting down enemy leaders, scout teams, or even grounded enemy aircraft if possible. Likewise, said enemy aircraft would be targeted to the best of all the Dirian abilities, with machine gunners supplied with hastily assembled or supplied anti-air sights and other meaningful defensive works strengthened in their number and supply. Thus, if said scout planes came too close, they would be fired at, often inaccurately, but enough that soldiers or gun emplacements feasibly scored some hits.

Still, the time was arriving for Diria to 'transport the shipment' to its destination. Infantry divisions around the clock were being trained and cycled through drills. Artillery regiments in certain infantry divisions, raging in their arsenals from howitzers to mortars, were readily given new supplies of shells predominantly focused on Shipments A and B, whose guns would be shrouded mainly by tarps to mask them from aircraft and the sun above. Similarly, commanders pre-designate targets to aim their artillery in believed enemy defensive positions using input provided by scouts or nomads. At the same time, some heavy infantry and most of the motorized forces focused on destination A path would be allocated more anti-tank or improvised offensive weaponry, like fire bombs and grenade bundles. Yet, alongside this allocation, most of the servicepeople of the front were to be fed at breakfast and dinner with an assortment of cultural and traditional holiday foods and sweets, though often consisting of what was available. Mainly, there would be communitarian dishes of fatteh, nihari, kebab, and pilaf. Complimentary confections of kahk, qurabiya, marzipan, and boeber. Then, the expected features of rations, though elevated in quality, are mainly beloved pita bread and rich Dirian coffee.

---

General Leonio Fahas stared at the documents before him, hurriedly signing off on paperwork placed on the dusty desk because he sat in a tent. At the same time, his headquarters was being refurbished, or at least, it was being put together slowly due to all the activities and other priorities. He didn't mind it; instead, when the tent's entry would blow open, swirling in the sand, he'd brush the built-up sand aside; it made him feel more valuable and akin to what those below him experienced. However, his basking within the monotonous calm of doing official paperwork for the beast that was the bureaucracy of the Dirian Army was cut short as another officer stepped inside his tent to salute, the sudden gust of air grabbing Fahas's attention long before the officer's voice and snap to attention did. Fahas put his pen down on the paper and communicated curtly. "At ease. What is it?"

The Mednusai officer relaxed, breaking off his salute while his mandibles twitched when he began to speak swiftly. "The staff you called for are here, sir."

Fahas nodded dismissively but now spoke more understanding because he knew this was a pre-planned intrusion. "Alright, let them in; you're dismissed for now."

The Mednusai officer nodded and said thankful and short. "Sir." Then, they left the tent, only for nearly a dozen different shapes, sizes, and species of officers of various ranks, positions, and detachments to enter the tent. If enemies knew this meeting was happening, they could quickly incapacitate the Dirian chain of command. However, considering how far from the front they were, said concern was unheard of.

Thus, Fahas stood up as all the officers snapped to attention, saluted, and articulated their professional sirs, to which Fahas responded with a simple at ease as he made his way to the front of his desk, leaning and sitting against it as it somewhat sunk into the sand underneath the tent's tarped floor. "I'm going to be brief. You aren't fools; reading the writing in the sand doesn't take a genius, and most of you have already been fully briefed on your assignments. We will be attacking soon, and I need you all to be at your best and conscious of what's ahead." He crossed his arms, scrutinizing the officers' reactions in front of him. Most were unsurprised, but some were eager, and some worried. Regardless of such, he continued with his point. "However, before we continue about strategy, and with that bandage being ripped off for you if it is new news, I'd like to remind you that giving out any details to anyone outside of this tent at the current operation's readiness can and will have severe ramifications, and if you're discovered doing such, you will be dealt with accordingly."

Before Fahas could continue fully, another voice arose from the middle of the group of officers. "Permission to speak, sir." Fahas glanced at the person, a Zarou major, and once Fahas documented the individual in his mind, he permitted them to speak. The Zarou's voice and accent were heavy from rural Egris; regardless, they were palpable in their concern and passion. "What about the men? They know something will happen; they have the right to be prepared for such."

Fahas nodded and laughed, causing some concern for the Zarou major as the officers awkwardly glanced at each other. Fahas stood back up and walked closer to the officers. "You'd be correct, but we can't jeopardize anything, be it an inebriated Sergeant's joke or a Colonel's slip of the tongue. Nevertheless, I want all the men to be prudent of the arduous journey ahead. So, we'll feed them well, which should bolster their spirits and keep them occupied. That gives you time to prepare for the day-day, which you'll know momentarily. Anyway, if there are no more questions, we'll move on to strategy, which I hope you all studied beforehand." In response, the officers in the room remained silent, and after a few seconds, Fahas loudly boasted. "Good."

---

Southwest Front Reinforcements:

20,000 Light Infantry Regiment

---

A Dirian Army photographer's photo of Dirian quartermaster services using a truck to provide soldiers with their rations, including complementary pilaf, coffee, chocolate, and cigarettes.

---