NationStates Jolt Archive

Outpost 'Betty', Northern Morrdh

Private Lynch yawned and then quickly hugged himself again as he felt the cold air slip in through his greatcoat as he stretched. The warmth, as ever, took many painfully slow minutes before the young Private could stop shivering from the frosty night. The first taste of Spring was in the air but it would be another couple of months until summer uniform could be donned without freezing to death.

It was also a few more hours until his watch was over Lynch grimly noted.

For a moment he swore he saw movement beyond the oil-lamp's glow, his training kicked in as he unslung his rifle and slowly crept forwards. He was about to call out a challenge until he heard low whistles overhead, glancing up he never saw the sharpshooter's muzzle flash or his bullet.

It didn't matter as the first mortar rounds fell upon the small, remote outpost...

Northern Command, Nordstradt

"Alright, alright I'm coming." Major Lochlan grumbled as he dragged himself out of bed and went to answer the insistent knocking on his door. He was greeted by a worried looking aide who quickly spoke. "S-sir, theres a problem."

"Does the General know yet?" Lochlan asked as he quickly grabbed his jacket and pulled on a pair of boots as the aide answered. "Not yet he doesn't...we didn't think it was a good time to tell him."

Rather you didn't want to face the Old Man when he's nursing a hangover, Lochlan bitterly thought. Sighing he replied. "Right, how bad is it lad?"

"Very bad, most of our outposts have fallen and the wires have been cut as well as our radios being knocked out. We're having to rely on runners sir, but they've been falling prey to sharpshooters."

"Blast! Any word from the southern fort at Briggs Cliff?"

"Yes sir, we received a transmission half an hour ago that they were under attack. We started getting reports from some of our other outposts coming under attack shortly afterwards."

"Who the bally hells attacking us?"

"We don't know sir."

"Dammit! Guess I'll go and wake the General then..."

"Best of Morrdh sir."

General Grismund was already awake and in a foul mood that wasn't helped by a night of hard drinking, Lochlan had faced this situation before and simply saluted. "Sir!"

The General didn't see the Major's salute, or perhaps just ignored it, as he spoke. "What in th'blasted hells is bloody happening Major?!"

"We're under assualt sir, enemy size and idenity remains unkown."

"Why th'hell aren't we hittin' 'em back?"

"The lines have been cut...we're having to rely on runners. A number of outposts have fallen and we've had word that Briggs Cliff to the south is under attack."

"Ah hell..."

"Orders sir?"

"Hmm...give the word for all reamining units to converge on Northern Command and see if ye can get some of 'em tankers down ta the Cliff."

[OOC: Cut it short, after I realized I would never finish, otherwise.]


Money, power & war
Daví San Jíernard knew of the coming revolution. He was a Macabee businessman who had found his wealth in the once heavily subsidized petrol industry. His company, although small relative to other energy giants, was protected by Imperial decree and managed to make massive profits off government contracts. Unfortunately, Emperor Fedor I’s post-war “libertarianization” of the Imperial market ended these subsidies and broke what could best be described as an energy cartel. As a result, Daví found himself without the stimulus necessary to keep his company alive and he had to look elsewhere to revive his profits (he simply couldn’t compete with the lower prices offered by larger competitors). Daví quickly found a place within the ranks of the Knights of Pir-Sar and using his new connections he was quickly pointed towards Morrdh. Morrdh was, supposedly, a great opening for a new Macabee petrol cartel, as it seemed that a new government was willing to allow for this monopolization to happen in return for money, weapons and even human support. Apparently, Daví San Jíernard found the costs as justified given the “guarantee” of artificially high prices and a virtual monopoly of the petroleum supplies in Morrdh (even if they were relatively minor, they could still garner an important profit if sales were guaranteed). Of course, all of this speculation lied on the foundations that Daví would have a permanent client in the form of the new revolutionary government in Morrdh (or whatever became of it). And so, Daví found himself in the northern fringes of Morrdh, preparing for his future.

He stood, watching the plains below him; along Daví was Morrdhian rebel “general” Arthur Comglast. For now, Arthur Comglast was nothing more than a warlord. This would soon change, as Daví San Jíernard had given Comglast and his group of “soldiers” massive amounts of funding from his own private pockets (in the form of saved oil profits, totaling nearly one billion Ríokmarks) and access to large loans from friendly banking institutions (mostly from outside of the Second Empire). All in all, Comglast was able to raise a fairly powerful rebel army, and it was being used in conjunction with other rebel forces to engage Morrdhian military positions along the northern frontiers. Daví and Arthur were merely chatting. They were talking about their futures. Arthur seemed intent on divulging to Daví his military plans, and Daví had little interest in the bellicose topic. Instead, he was more interested on Arthur Comglast’s logistics. Daví was there to score his first major contract. General Comglast’s troops were still an ad hoc military force and hardly mechanized, but they had some forms of motorization and with their new funding it seemed as if they would be getting even heavier vehicles. All of this would require fuel, and fuel was still necessary to run the rebellion’s infrastructure. Daví San Jíerard was looking forward to becoming the premier petrol supplier to the rebel forces. He had already invested in the construction of oil rigs off the coast of Morrdh, and had ordered his sales team to reroute the sale of pumped petrol (from sources off the coast of what used-to-be Guffingford) to Morrdh.

http://bbsnews.net/bbsn_images_2005_summer/oil_platform.jpg

Fortunately for him, he was not risking much. Daví was not alone in Morrdh, and he was not going to be the only Macabee businessman to profit from this energy agreement. The Knights of Pir-Sar had sent others to the country. They would be tasked not only with setting up a clandestine export contract with the rebels, but securing lucrative contracts with the existing government, as well. The Knights were not businessmen interested in free-market capitalism; they were mercantilist to their bitter core. They were known, already, for partaking in violent terrorist activity. In the Empire they had caused the deaths of thousands, as they blew bombs and gunned down rival businessmen on the streets of once peaceful Imperial cities. However, their reign of terror in the Empire had ended quickly, as the government and private security cracked down on their movement. It soon became simply too costly to continue operating in a country which evidently would not budge on its “libertarianization” policies. So, they turned elsewhere, including the Imperial province of Theohuanacu, and now Morrdh. Their ambitions were to take advantage of government corruption to establish an economy based on corporate welfare and legalized monopoly. They were going to use government to cheat the population out of its money. War torn countries made perfect targets since their promises of guaranteed petroleum seemed especially beneficial to those governments supporting armies. Governments needed petroleum, especially if these petroleum sources were seemingly stable. And so, Morrdh was the perfect target.

Daví smiled at General Comglast and said, “Have you reviewed the contract?”

The Morrdhian general looked back, a bit perturbed, and replied, “Always talking about money, you Macabees. Is that the only thing you care about?”

The businessman smiled gently and answered, “Money is to me, as war is to you. I apologize, but my interests lay hardly in your war, other than the fact that it presents me with an excellent opportunity to serve you.”

“What makes you better than your competitors?” The general inquired. He didn’t seem completely ready to bend to Daví’s will.

But the Macabee replied swiftly, “Your petrol is guaranteed, and most importantly most of it will be drilled here, meaning that you will get an instantaneous flow of black gold. No other oil company can promise you this, because few oil companies will take the risk to drill a country that is about to be engulfed in war.”

“What if the drills here are destroyed?”

“That’s why we have our own drills, elsewhere. You and your army are offering the best terms, so the flow of petrol is guaranteed as long as you continue to offer the best price. This guarantee cannot be replicated by anybody else.”

General Comglast looked away, thinking to himself for a minute. He did not really care about Mr. San Jíerard and his petroleum contract, as long as he got the petroleum needed to fight his rebellion, but there were other things that were necessary, as well. To that extent he asked Daví the next logically question, “What about everything else?”

The Macabee smiled and retorted, “General, as previously agreed, you will have the funding necessary to buy the finest weapons on the market. Let’s not forget about the black market either. By making friends with me, you are making friends with an entire network of willing and able entrepreneurs. No other man can offer you what I can. I will provide you with whatever necessary to win.”

General Comglast nodded and replied, “For the time being, consider the contract yours. I will get you our current petrol requirements and give you, also, a list of other things we will need … especially in the way of weapons. Get those oil rigs up as soon as possible, because it may take us some time to capture a port city.”

Daví shook his head and cut the general off, “Don’t worry about the port. We will get your petrol to you.” The Macabee had some tricks on his sleeve (albeit expensive tricks) to get petroleum off ships and onto the shores of Morrdh. The main problem was turning it into refined gasoline, but the contract guaranteed Daví profit, which would allow him to stack and purchase the necessary refineries in-country. It was all a very complicated procedure, and would take a number of months, but Daví would be able to get gasoline in other fashions for the time being (buying petrol for cheap off the market and selling it to the rebels for many times as much). In the end, the soundness of the business was almost irrelevant when costs would truly be covered by a government (in this case, the rebels). Although Daví was paying for the resources and capital out of his own pocket, the basic monopoly on sales that would be granted to him would allow him to base prices on production costs, as opposed to on supply and demand, allowing him to cover any losses. Besides, he could satiate the rebel’s needs of weapons and reduce his costs for providing the petroleum, while not necessarily reducing prices. This was the nature of mercantilism.

The Macabee looked away for a second, and then said, “As far as your weapons are concerned, consider them already here.”

With that, he shook hands with General Comglast and walked away, towards his waiting automobile. His business with the rebels was done for the time being. It was time to focus on empire building, now. Daví San Jíernard could hardly believe that he was back in business.

Feeding the warfare state
The large cargo ship slipped out of Macabea City almost unnoticed. Not that it mattered; shipping was never regulated anymore. Under these conditions a black market would thrive. But a black market in the Empire was almost impossible, since almost everything had been legalized! Normally, the SS Cazíer would be carrying consumer or industrial goods to far-off countries, in the region or outside. The large ship had made hundreds of trips by now, and her hull was becoming old. Soon enough, she would be replaced, but for the time being it was cost-efficient to patch her up and keep her going. But, this time the Cazíer was not carrying goods for any normal type of consumer. Her hull was full to the brim with weapons, purchased on credit by the Knights of Pir-Sar. Assault rifles, anti-tank missiles, machine guns, grenades, body armor, et cetera. Everything needed to equip a small army worth of small-arms was contained in that ship. Her destination was Morrdh. The arms companies of the Empire had found a new client, after the near dissolution of the military-industrial complex with the planned demobilization of the Fuermak. The Empire’s military industry would be fueled by other states. But, the SS Cazíer was only the beginning. The truth behind this single ship was only that it stood for the opening of the flood-gates. The Empire’s military-industrial complex, looking for profit, was about to turn Morrdh into a bloody battlefield. Both sides would be taxed, as they were both looking for weapons.

http://www.mcgill.ca/files/maritimelaw/CargoShip3b.JPG

In reality, it was all a game. Companies were playing games with human lives. But, that was the nature of war. Wars turned powerful companies into addicts. Their drug of choice was ordnance. This cost money, and to fund these purchases warmongering nations borrowed or created money. Ultimately, the consequence was economic failure, but for the armaments companies it mattered little – they got the money they were looking for; they would simply be paid in the most stable currency. It was truly an inhumane participation of the Macabee military-industrial complex, but if not them it would have been someone else. This is just the reality of war. Nobody likes to hear the cold, hard truth.

As the day wore on the situation became ever bleaker as each new unit arrived at Nordstardt, the lines of men and motor trucks looked pitiful...the obvious lack of tanks amongst the retreating columns was painfully clear. Lochlan had the job of debriefing the surviving officers as they arrived, though they only managed to confirm what wasn't a very pretty picture. There was talk of weapons used by the rebels, 'autoguns' that were far superior to the Morridane bolt-actions rifles and of garrisons being gassed.

Though it was a sapper that gave him the worse news.

Despite the Royal Morridane Engineers' best efforts, the rebels had managed to capture some stores and a couple of depots intact before they could be blown up. The captured tanks and armoured cars had been put to good use by the rebels in overrunning the nearby airfields and in harassing the retreating soldiers. The few artillery tractors and their charges that managed to get through gave him little hope and he simply ordered the drivers onwards towards the southern fort.

He assembled a small team of sappers, ordered them to gather as many satchel charges as they could whilst he went to find the General. As expected he found the General in the Operations Room pouring over a large map of Nordstradt's defenses and the local area. Several red markers showed sizable rebels approaching the city almost on all sides, these markers were moved once every few minutes as radio operators recorded new updates (a number of wireless sets had been upset in rely to re-establish an ad-hoc communications network). There were a few blue markers that showed friendly Morridane forces, despite one or two holding their positions in a last-stand rearguard action, most were slowly being pushed back by the incoming tide of red.

"The damn buggers are bloody trying ta outflank us..." General Grismund spoke as he took a puff from a pipe that he rested in his hand on the map table's edge. "No doubt they're trying fer the pass and the fort at Briggs Cliff thus cutting us off from our only bloody lifeline ta the south...Bastards!"

"I've sent as many artillery units as I could down to the Cliff sir...that should give 'em something to think about."

"Aye...til they unleash that bloody gas of theirs!"

"Perahps, though we do have another problem in the shape of 'Project Waterwell' sir. I've assembled a squad of men and detailed 'em with finding as many demolition charges as they can get their hands on."

"So why ye botherin' me 'bouts it Major?"

"It falls under your direct command sir and should the Project be discovered it would be problematic for us and cause the government to lose face both with the Morridane public and on the diplomatic front..."

"Very well Major, do what you must."

"Thank you sir." Lochlan replied saluting. "It shall be dealt with."

General Grismund returned the salute and said. "And Major..."

"Sir?"

"I'm giving the order for an evacuation of all military personnel from Nordstardt, see to it that Commander Whitman brings down the bridge at Stonewall Ridge best way he can."

"Yes sir."