NationStates Jolt Archive

Oliver looked out the window, the stary night horizon broken by teh view of one of the many extinct volcanos that dotted Imitora's surface. The island nation, part rainforest, part temperate forest, and part desert, was an ecological wonder. Oliver scratched his chin, a light laire of fuzz coating it. He needed to shave. "How are we doing," he asked an aide, standing behind him.

"Well, sir," he made the point to call him sir, "everythign is fine. The people accepted the military take over, not much in the way of fightining it. Crime has been non existant since the take over, tanks in parking lots do that. Economically, things couldn't be better. The market closed up, and IMI has pulled in enough from the investors so that the FCS project should go off without a hitch. The only major problem we've had is at the universities. But when have college students not protested?"

"Since I took office," Oliver said, resting his hand on the hilt of the saber on his hip. The dim light reflected off the medals on his chest, making them seem brighter, almost glowing. The crisp blue Admiral's uniform emited an aire of power. He smiled, almost evily
___

Imitora Technical University, Luddock, Imitora

The chants were repetative, as were all chants. The words rang out strong on the campus, the hot, stale air not stopping the students. After all, if they didn't like the weather, then they wouldn't have come here.

All the students were different, and very few shared the same view, but all wanted the same result. Oliver out of office. They really didn't care who replaced him, but the result would be worth it.

An older student, possibly a graduate student, climbed to a podium, where he spoke from a megaphone. "No more oppresion! No more secret police hunting down disenters! We wante freedom!" he shouted, his voice rising above the crowd, only to be drowned out by their shouts of approval. However, soon, another noise was heard.

It was the sound of a large dieseal engine, followed by more. The students looked on, in awe and fear, as their rally was surounded by military vehicles. Two of the Imitoran M1A4s, and several HMMWVs, with their .50 caliber mounted machine guns, covered the crowd. Troops poured from three two ton trucks, and they to surounded the crowd. A man wearing fatigues and carrying a megaphone climbed to the hood of one of the two ton trucks, slinging his CAR-21 over his shoulder.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is an unauthorized protest. You are to cease and desist, and return to your form of dwellings imidiately. Any other actions will result in your arrest. Any attemptent to resist arrest will be met with force. You have 10 minutes to begin an ordearly movement back to your rooms." He then placed the megaphone down, and unslung his CAR-21, holding it in a ready posistion in front of him.

The students stood quiet for several seconds. The leader of teh protest stood strong, and shouted into his mega phone in response. "Hell no we wont go!"

As the chant travlled through the crowd, the soldiers slowly began to move in, rifles ready, handcuffs and quick cuffs in hand.

A stone flew through the air. Followed by another. And another. The students tossed stones and rocks at the moving troops, and most of the stones went unnoticed. However, a glass bottle that cam next did not. The bottle smashed into a soldiers face, breaking, and sending glass shards into his eyes.

The soldiers opened fire, followed by the men maning .50 caliber machine guns on the HMMWV, and then the .50 caliber machine guns and coaxial mounted 7.62mm miniguns mounted on the M1A4s. The students fell under the onslaught of bullets, the rounds ripping into them. Male and female alike, they were slaughterd. Bodies littered the field. Ashely Attaway, a young freshman, looked on in horror. She had been watching the protest from a distance, and now she sat in her black Toyota Matrix, a graduation gift, stunned at teh brutality of the troops. She watched as several ambulances showed up, and the soldiers left. She waited in the Toyota, not sure what to do.

Later reports would show that all 279 protesting students had been killed.

I remember having problems with university students before, best thing to do is to kill any and all protestors as soon as they crop up, that will kill of their urge to rebel rather quickly.


http://arcticnightfall.com/sailormoon/images/sub/characters/mn_lady.jpg
The Black Empress Helena Cocytus-Black
Seek Freedom and become captive of your desires, Seek discipline and find your liberty.
The Divine Imperial State of Axackal II

OOC-I'm going to go ahead and confuse everyone in the APTO by saying that this'll be happening after the meeting is over. Just because I need my Pres.
IC-"Jesus, there was no way of not seeing this coming. Military dictatorships always equal overuse of force. Those are f*cking college students down there, and what do they do? Gun them down..."
Corinth hated this guy. She could see why the college students had protested in the first place.
"Shall I file a protest, ma'am?"
"No, we wait and see what happens. Get the SSA to do whatever it can with what it has."

Ashley hesitantly picked up her cellphone. Her hand shook with fear. How could this happen? Imitora was peaceful. Now protests, and killings. It was horrible. She dialed a number she had called a few times before. A family friend, whom she had, unadmitidly, a crush on. He was 7 years older than she was, but she still felt comfortable with him, like he was a brother, or maybe a very close cousin.

"Robert? Its Ashely. Have you heard what happened yet? Yeah. I saw it. No, dont worry. I'm fine, really. No, I'm...ok. Ok, I'll be over in a few hours. Bye." She hung up, and shifted the car into reverse. Slowly she backed out of her spot, and then shifted into drive, heading towards the interstate.
____

"Please, come over. Dont worry, you wont be any burden to me. You'll be safer here. Ok, I'll see you then." Robert hung up his phone, and looked back at the TV. 279 Dead. College students. 279 Dead college students, he thought. "Christ," he muttered, as the helicopter overflew the field, showing the true carnage. Imitora news agencies, both public and private, had never had a problem showing uncut, unedited footage.

He scratched his scruffy chin, and walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a gallon jug of milk, and began drinking it straight. He had some more calls to make.

It wasn't long before the footage was shown on Agrigentian Newstations and websites. All over the country the imagery was imbedded into the hearts and minds of the citizenry.

It was watched and reviewed by the Presidents staff, as well as the Senator's.

ooc: tagged.

Ashley pulled up in front of Robert's small house. It wasn't big, as only one person lived there. She got out of the car, and started walking towards the house, when the front door open. She tore off into a run, as Robert stepped out of the house, wearing a pair of sweats and a 'Imitora Colonial Marine Corp, Pain is Temporary, Pride is Forever' tshirt. He held a mug of hot chocalate, having sworn to cut back on the coffee intake.

He placed down the ceramic cup, and opened his arms up to Ashley. She litteraly jumped into them, throwing her own arms around him. "Don't worry, you'll be safe here," he said, hugging her as she cried into him.

He led her into the house, where empty pizza boxes and food containers sat on the floor, along with heaps of dirty laundry. Another man, dressed similarly, sat on a couch, watching Samurai Jack, sipping a cup of coffee. "Hey Ding, this is my friend Ashley," he said, nodding to the man. He nodded to the brunette, and she nodded back.

"Pleasure," he said, nonchalauntly, holding up the coffee mug. "How are the calls going?"

"Good. I got a few of your friends, and a few of mine."
_____

Oliver watched teh news reports with intrest. More unrest. So be it, he thought. He shifted, allowing his hand to grasp the hilt of the saber. He removed his hand, picking up a phone. "This is Oliver. Same response. Yes."

He looked back ou the window towards the setting sun, and smiled again. Full military control of the nation was now his.

OOC: I hate being logged in as a puppet, and forgetting it...

Just as Iansislean anti-Imitorianism cools off this has to happen! thought P.M. Hiresh Dhawan, slapping his forehead in dismay upon reading the gruesome reports pouring out of Imitora. Opening fire on protestors, their own countrymen?! That's just the sort of thing the Hun would do!

(in other words, tag ;))

OOC: Wait till he calls all military personel...including the King's (futre/present/past/whatever) wife.

EDIT: DAMNIT!

Further OOC: Off for a bit. When I get back, I'll have a cool long post.

OOC: Wait till he calls all military personel...including the King's (futre/present/past/whatever) wife.

EDIT: DAMNIT!

(oh...that'd not be good, not good at all! Er, would Lt. Chaffin care for a commission in the Royal Iansislean Flying Corps? Perhaps as a Squadron Commander?)

OOC: Unless your up for bringing in F4Us...I dunno...
IC:

"Sir, reports of more disenters. This time quiet ones. Posting anti-Oliver posters around the towns and cities. What should we do about it?"

Oliver sat at teh desk, reading a memo on world reaction to the masacres. He really didn't care what the world thought. His response was teh same it had been for the college protest. Action. "I want the 8th Batallion's Military Suppresion Unit on this. Speaking out is not an option for the people. Peace and unity over democracy and all. You may leave now," he said, in a commanding tone.
____

Within hours, houses across the nation were sacked. People were pulled from their homes and families, tossed into the backs of trucks, and never seen again. Those who resisted were shot. Their bodies would be left for the family to deal with. There was even talk about charging the families for the bullets used to kill the resisters.
____

John sat quietly, sipping the coffe, and fliping through teh international section of the paper. He read about the Menelamacari discoveries, and of course the daily dose of the Omzian invasion. However, when he got to the 'Imitora' section, he just about passed out. The coffee cup fell from his hand, shatering on the floor of the Noropian palace. It wasn't as much the shooting of the students that suprised him, but the name

He knew the name all to well. Hell, he had worked with the man for five years. Now he was in power. He grabbed for a phone.

"Yes, this is Duke John, I need to talk to King James, imidiately."

{OOC: "Will you accept the charges of your next child, five point eight million generals, your house, your title of Duke, your land holdings, and you soul....)
____

Christin looked at the computer screen, her face flushed and devoid of color. She looked at the words, they were there in black and white, plane as day. She stiffled a tear. She wanted to pretend that she had never seen it, but she couldn't.

[code:1:29d34c2ec9]
Lt. Christin Chafin, Imitora Navy Blue Water Operations

As per executive order #1344332, you are required to report to your post at NAS Stecens to re assume command of your unit, VFA-145 Black Knights. Your unit will be tasked with the protection of Imitoran harbors in times of war and peace. Failure to respond swiftly to any of these orders will result in a military court martial, charges of going absent without leave, and due to your status as an Imitoran and Deazemani citizen, defection. The punishment for defection, as you know, is a minimum life time imprisonment term, with possibility of execution. You are aloted three days to satisfy any problems or dates you may have. Respectfully,

Admiral Dean Winslow, Second in Command, Imitora Navy
[/code:1:29d34c2ec9]

(Well, I could always change the designation of the MPAF-6 "Colt" to F4U...maybe she wouldn't notice :))

James looked up from his wedding preperations as Quintin walked in. "A call for you, sire. From the Duke of Chateau."

"John?" asked the High King, arching an eyebrow. He hadn't heard from him...man, must have been Jeff's welcome home party! He took the handpiece. "Hello, John? It's good to hear from you again! I trust that you and Lizzie will be able attend my..." His voice trailed off as John related whatever bit of news he had.

"Adjudant?"

"Yessir?"

"Cancel the student exchange program with Imitora."

"At once, sir."

"James, you remeber Oliver dont you? He was the one that tried to have Lines offed. I dunno how he got into power, but he did. We gotta figure out a way to get him out."

OOC: Slutbum Wallah...LOL!

"The Secretary of Defense?" asked James, remembering the incident. "Of course I do; is he the one behind all those reports coming out of Imitora?"

"Well, of course I agree he needs to be removed from power, but how is a little more tricky. It's not as if we could just take Diomedes and bombard a fort again. (Not to mention that the modern HIMS Diomedes displaces more than 70,000 tons and has a broadside weight of about 33,400 lbs ;) ... just a little more than the c 10,000 tons and c. 1,000 lbs of the old one.) Also, Parliament's never been big on intervention in sovereign nations' affiars. What do you think we ought to do?"

John didn't reply. He now realised that there was nothing he could do. "I dont know James. I dont know."
___

Christin walked into the room, looking for James. She had let the tears flow now, hoping that James would know what to do.

"Right. I'll bring it up with P.M. Dhawan and get back to you as soon as possible." James hung up the phone as sat back at his desk.

He looked up as Christin and stood up to greet her. "Hey, love..." He paused at the look on her face. "What's wrong?"

She sniffled, wipping a tear away. She held out her hand, in it a printout of the email she had been sent. "They're making me go back," she said. She walked closer to James and hugged him.

(darn it!)

"Go back?" he asked, embracing her while he took the paper and read over it. "No! They can't do that to you! I won't let them!"

"I...I dont have a choice. I have three days before I have to report," she said, looking down at the floor. She didn't want to go, God knows what they would make her do. There had to be a way for her to not have to go, but she didn't know what it was.

(at the Third World Conference)

Javin looked up from his seat as he surfed the international news sites on his laptop.

Imitorans firing on student protestors? Who in the hell is running that place now??

He thought about calling Giovanni to find out the lowdown, but decided against it, cause he knew he'd get a call if he was needed. He sat back and prepared for the next speaker.

In the Office of the First Speaker :

"This is very sad news. We must keep a close eye on our relations with Imitora.."

"I...I dont have a choice. I have three days before I have to report," she said, looking down at the floor. She didn't want to go, God knows what they would make her do. There had to be a way for her to not have to go, but she didn't know what it was.

(sorry it took so long to respond to this...between a bit of a cold and several pressing assignments, I'm having a hard time getting on NS as much as I'd like (of course, that's constantly, which may be a bit impractical ;)).)

James led her over to the couch and sat down. "Ok, don't worry, I'm sure we can do something." He leaned back, wrapping her arm around her. In the various branches of the Iansislean armed services, desertion was still an offense punishable by firing squad -- and somehow, he didn't think Imitora would have a much more liberal policy. "O.k., I've got it - you're a member of the Daezemani nobility...what I do is make you a baroness or viscountess or something here in Iansisle, and then I call a Cruinniú for ... some issue or another. You'd have to remain here to attend! It's not the best idea," he added, still speaking quickly, "but deliberations will take some time, especially if it's a commonwealth-wide issue. What do you think?"

"I...I guess," Christin said. She didnt know if it would work, after all, the Imitoran Navy can be hard on officers, but hopefully this would settle the problem. After all, the Military couldn't force nobility to do things, could they?

James snapped his fingers. "I've got it! What the cruinniú can discuss is the potential start of an officer exchange program between Iansisle and Imitora as a way, of, er, repairing the damages that has been done in our nations' relationship. Now, all I need to do is call up that Oliver bloke...no, I'll have Richard do it! It'd sound better coming from the First Sea Lord, after all.

"I'll speak to him as soon as I can...in the meantime, let's see what I can do. I can't think of any existing peerages that need a new overlord, so we'll have to come up with one. How about one of the new baronies I'm creating in Dianatran...the Barony of Chaffin, for instance? We'd have to have a ceremony, of course, and hammer everything out -" he checked his watch, as if that would help "-but we've had that sort of thing accomplished in much less than three days."

"Yeah, I guess it would work," Christin said, perking up. She hugged James, knowing that everythgin would be ok.

(somehow, I don't think everythings going to be ok. Anyhoo, I have to run off to latin...back in about an hour!)

OOC: If ok is a carrier battle group, then it will be, lol! Have fun.

(sorry it took so long to respond to this...between a bit of a cold and several pressing assignments, I'm having a hard time getting on NS as much as I'd like (of course, that's constantly, which may be a bit impractical ;)).)

(Damn it! So you're the one I caught this bug from! New definition for computer virus I guess ;) )

Outside Presidential Mansion, Croton, Imitora

Giovanni shifted slowly, adjusting his sight on the window. He peered through the 5x scope mounted on the silenced M4. He flipped off the safety, sighting in the head of the man through the window. He wasn't sure if it was Oliver or not, but it would be one less man who stood between him and the final goal of freedom. His finger gently squeezed around the trigger, when he heard the 'click' of a weapon from behind him.

"Drop it," the voice from behind him said. Giovanni froze. "We got ourselves a breech, section four, over," the man said, obviously into a radio. Giovanni rolled to the side slowly, then all off the sudden quickly, bringing up his custom made Beretta. However, he was to slow, and four 6.8mm rounds pierced his chest, killing him instantly
-------
"I have a shot, let me take it," the girl whispered harshly, flipping the safty on her bolt action rifle to the 'off' posistion. "Its a clear shot, I can drop him from here!"

"No joy Angel, even if they did just blast the six, we gotta get outa here. Wont do us any good to be around when the big guns go off," the spotter, armed with an M21 said, grabbing the blonde by the back of her collar. "We're out!"

She sighed, and reluctantly, but quickly, stood, and brought the rifle to a ready posistion, following her spotter out of their hidding spot.
_______

Robert sat back in teh big leather recliner. "They haven't called yet. You got his number?" he asked the man sitting on a couch.

He looked at his watch. Giovanni was supposed to call three hours ago. "Nah, he's probablly already dead or cought. I don't think it'll do us any good to call."

"Always the pessimist, Ding."

"No, just a realist."

Robert chuckled, but was soon cut off by a 'breaking' new bullitin. Apearently, someone was cought trying to break on to the grounds of the Presidential Mansion, armed with a rifle. "Well, Ding. Looks like you were right. So whose next on the call list?"

"They never did find Hoot's body..."
_______

In the officer's ward, several young men, all wearing flight suits, stood around a map. "So hows it look?" one of the men asked. He looked younger than the rest of the group, and probably was.

"Well, as long as we follow the path shown here, and avoid the radar reaches. I mean, our fighters dont have Athena or Spartan, so its gonna be hard. I bet we can pull it off if we have a place to go to." The older pilot sighed. "Not that it woud matter much if we did get away. But its always worth a try."

ooc: Sorry I can't post, kinda busy with the DT wars, the invasion of my homeland, and this war in Japann. I'll try to keep an eye on this thread tho.

Robert flipped through the listof numbers, and found one that looked particularly intresting. "You ever hear this name Ding? Javin Katana?"

"Sounds familiar. Ring it up"

Robert dialed the number. "Uh, Javin? This is Robert Fortier, I have a proposition for you."

"Yes Sir, Mr. Fortier, what can I do for you," Javin asked.

Holy crap, this phone's not supposed to ring unless the s--- hits the fan.

"Well, Mr. Katana, as you no doubt have seen the news, there are certain, situation in Imitora which need handling. Your assistance would be greatly appriciated,if it could be loaned out," Robert said, hoping to God that the encryption set up on his sat phone was working.

"Yes sir, I believe I can be there ASAP. With 'lumberjack' 'out to lunch' I understand.

"I'll need helicopter dust-off at our hotel in 15, not enough room for planes to land. Make sure they have my gear with me this time, I'll say my goodbyes.

"I don't think they'll miss me here," he whispered into the phone. "Copy, out sir," he added as he hung up the phone.

Robert hung up the phone. "Hey Ding, any chance of us getting one of those Nighthawks out to," he looked down at the little piece of paper, "Tanha Burung?"

Ding looked up. "Well, we still have that one we left in Iansisle, I'm sure it could make the hop."

"Right, call up Bear, see if he can get it there. And we're using home grown stuff this time around."

"Right," Chavez replied, grabbing his own cell phone.

Robert waited at the deserted field looking off into the distance. He knew he wouldnt be able to hear the Nighthawk, and it would be a while till he saw it. He had never met this Javin kid, but he sounded like one squared away individual. He looked over his shoulder at the Toyota 4Runner, and sighed. This woulda been easier if we had an aircraft he thought.