NationStates Jolt Archive

Napier, Independence Day

Down Powis Drive the rabble came, many amongst the crowd brandished hurridly improvised representations of the flag born atop General Croston's tank.

http://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/tarleton_and_hesketh.jpg

No one was giving much thought to the significance of the design, that it was associated with the revolution was cause enough for emulation.

The battered old tank clattered to a halt outside the old administrative offices of the colonial government of Tarleton. Self-styled "General" Thomas Croston could be seen to wave his countrymen away from the fairly modest prefabricated structure, and gradually the jubilant crowds caught-on.

The Sherman-like piece turned its twenty-odd tons about in several jerking motions, then quite suddenly screeched forwards, ploughing through the front wall of the office. When Croston's tank became stuck half way through the building, crowds set to ripping debris from about the tracks, and soon the whole structure was ruined.

Celebrations went on, the tank firing a single practice round into the air, before Croston lead a march to the surprisingly large local Church, which he declared to be the seat of the new parliament of Tarleton ...and Hesketh.

A hush fell over the Tarletonian throng.

OOC: Well done...

Tag - Will post when his brain is operating properly

Hesketh, Tarletonian Independence Day

Here in Tarleton's rural neighbour the experience shared by residents today was quite different to that enjoyed a few miles away. "Natives" clashed with colonial immigrants unwilling to move out just because their home government had lost interest in the territory, long since stripped of its major mineral wealth.

The natives themselves were immigrants, of course. Tarleton and Hesketh had no indigenous population and had only been settled even lightly since Viking times, so it was commonly believed. However, those usually called native were the descendants of centuries-dead British pioneers, and had farmed the land for aeons.

The colonial settlers had arrived in force only over the last few generations after the British lost control of the area in one of very few colonial defeats. These relative newcomers had been brought on strength by a boom in the mining industry, sparked by discovery of copper, silver, and gold. These things had been mined with furious intensity until they were finally depleted and the second colonial power lost interest, allowing Hesketh to degenerate into poverty even more severely than had long neglected Kotterdam-administered Tarleton before its decision to break away.

No one was sure how Kotterdam would react to General Croston's assertion of local authority- the tiny garrison had been taken off guard and forced aboard a couple of old trawlers, with the words, "Don't pretend you were happy here, anyway!" Neither did anyone seem to be openly considering the reaction of Hesketh's colonial master* to the disturbance there- the fact of the settlers' resistance was trouble enough for now.

Across the muddy fields of Hesketh running battles had been fought on a small scale. They began when natives -who happen to be the majority- came out to show support for the revolution in Tarleton, with many expressing similar sentiment laced with disrespect for the colonial government. Of course many settlers found themselves in a defensive mindset, and began to block access to many of their rural estates, often appearing under arms to warn marchers off.

Now this wouldn't stand, not on such a revolutionary day as this, and many native farm hands were quick to gather their own arms, modest though they may be. Soon mobs armed with farming implements, slings, improvised petrol bombs, and some few shotguns and high-powered air rifles amongst other things were flooding into private estates to be confronted by shotgun and rifle-wielding land owners and gamekeepers.

One native already engaged by a previously out of luck reporter posted to the backwater colony stated for the colonial power's moderately interested newspaper that the first shot had been fired by one of those gamekeepers. Apparently a seventeen year old native boy with a shovel had been shot in the head by a ghillie-wearing gamekeeper, a sniper, as the interviewee put it.

From there chaos had taken hold, while in neighbouring Tarleton the revolutionaries declared independence, and unity for the two subject peoples.

*While it appears that Kotterdam is to be the colonial master involved with Tarleton, the equivalent in Hesketh is not certainly settled as yet. Whatever nation fills the role will need to have in its history some degree of conflict or else trade with the British that saw the territory come into its control. In the modern era the land is pretty much raped for its resources and then neglected and allowed to fall into poverty, resulting in today's events. So, we're interested in volunteers (there's another thread talking about it- if you search for Tarleton and Hesketh I've only posted in two threads, so it shan't be hard to find!) I suppose the requirements are that you can't be too heavy handed- the rebels are poor farmhands and such, so I'm not interested in having someone send in half a million soldiers to pacify the revolt, and you'd have to accept that your government hadn't treated Hesketh terribly well (though we're not requiring that you admit to making the SS look nice or anything).

The Governor's residence fell nowhere near as easily. While the garrison troops had long been ignored as they asked again and again for modern equipment, the Governor's men, like most Protection Unit soldiers, were green, but had their backs stiffened by some new equipment. Warned by the garrison troops, they had greeted the mob approaching the Governor's home with a pair of the new Advanced Support Weapon heavy machine guns - Just in case one of the rebels happened to be riding an elephant. The big 15.5x120mm rounds almost classified them as light cannons, and would tear through even some smaller armoured vehicles. That, combined with the troops in the residence, led to a standoff.

And that's when things began to happen.

They came by night, using the cover of darkness to mask their approach. Military force had been used to abscond with Dominion territory, and Dominion servicemen had been threatened. The first wave came by sea, Naval SWORD commandoes swarming up out of the water and across the docks of the naval station, cradling silenced H&K UMP-9 submachine guns in their hands as they moved from building to building. Fortunately, before fleeing DNS Tarleton, the garrison had disabled the Surface-to-Air missiles, so the next part was easy. A pair of Sea Python helicopters, along with a F-37A Shalakh flying escort tore in from off-shore, bundling the Governor's family, and their guards into the helicopters, and racing back to the Oberon-class cruiser loitering offshore.

As if that wasn't enough, the sound of heavy aircraft cut through the air. Dispatched almost as soon as the Governor's compound sent word of the overthrow, and flying through most of the day to arrive, a flight of C-130s began disgorging troops - The dreaded Airborne Rangers. The Airborne consisted of the finest light infantrymen the Dominion had to offer, and they began by parachuting onto the capital's only international airport. Almost a hundred troops landed on the airfield, all clad in full body armour, their wraparound HUD goggles giving them the appearance of menacing cyborgs as they advanced quickly on their objectives. To a man, these new troops carried the brand new variant of the FN-FAL in service with the Dominion - The K1A2 ASLR. Packing a powerful punch, these menacing rifles made these troops even more dangerous. One thing was clear - The Dominion was not fooling around.

Hazel Grove- Napier's old government district, Tarleton

Outside the governor's residence Croston's high-spirited supporters had halted. Some yelled for the governor to come out, others were more quiet as they hung back, gazing at the worried young men defending the compound and the modern weapons they clutched.

When the helicopters arrived to evacuate the staff, one man stepped forth waving a shotgun in the air and crying for the General's tank to open fire.

..It didn't. In fact General Croston, unable to convince the man to back down from his bloodthirsty position, ordered the troublemaker be taken for a night in the local gaol, much to the old farmer's alarm.

It worked, and he'd soon cooled down, though the next morning would see him flustered anew. A boyscout runner arrived at the police station in a state of considerable excitement, informing the constable of paratroopers landing at the airport.

The prisoner was completely forgotten as half the population seemed keen to investigate personally.

Alarmed Tarletonians who dared venture to the airport's periphery felt a considerable change to their lately high spirits when they heard that Croston had taken his tank to Hesketh to settle the revolution there. No one else wanted to confront professional soldiers, and the Kotterdam detachment was met by a wall of silence and inactivity in the tiny lowrise capital.

A few miles away, Croston's Sherman -requistioned by the rebels from a private collector who'd kept the 76.2mm gun tank in working order- was busy taking part in the over-running of Moss Farm, it's old radio proving less than open to Tarleton's efforts at communication.

(OOC:I wonder, do you have any ideas on ..past Kotterdam service weapons and such? I'm supposing the rebels likely have previous generation weapons lifted from the expulsed garrison (AK-47s or something along those line), or even older arms from the reserve, perhaps (maybe even WWII era). If not it doesn't matter, I'll just pick a few relics :) )

OOC: If no one else is involved, I'll be the colonial guy formerly in charge of Hesketh.

I have Imperialistic things around the entire pacific. Where are you?

And no nukings, I promise.

OOC: I am not entirely sure where we are- the middle of nowhere, that's for sure. A fairly miserable climate, grey most of the year, perhaps more Atlantic than Pacific, but I'm not too bothered.

Across Hesketh skirmishing continued between colonials and natives. Croston's tank had taken part in the renationalisation of two country estates, and finally the General had been contacted with news of military insertions at Tarleton.

Worried Tarletonians attempted to arrange a diplomatic meeting with the arrived troops from Kotterdam. No one was quite sure what to say- where we being confrontational and insisting that this was now our republic and that they were invading, or were we glad that they hadn't launched airstrikes and doing our best to make them see our side of things?

Many people were actually confused as to what our side did believe- hardline socialists had apparently been behind a move towards total state control of the economy, and in all the disorder the tax system had collapsed. No one knew how much who was paying and where it was going. Some villages were handing over 100% of their income under the assumption that the state was to redistribute services and goods as required, while others hadn't heard a word of capitalism's apparent abandoment and were trying to get expensive cars imported on the strength of their savings.

(OOC:I wonder, do you have any ideas on ..past Kotterdam service weapons and such? I'm supposing the rebels likely have previous generation weapons lifted from the expulsed garrison (AK-47s or something along those line), or even older arms from the reserve, perhaps (maybe even WWII era). If not it doesn't matter, I'll just pick a few relics :) )

(OOC: Likely, the rebels were able to make off with a few hundred K1A1s, essentially a licence-built variant of the FN-FAL, but lighter, and with a 30-round mag. For pistols, they'd have old Browning Hi-Power 1935s, the same pistol the Dominion has been using for decades. They might have found some FN-MAG General Purpose Machine Guns in the arsenal, and maybe even an M2QCB Heavy Machine Gun. No grenades or anti-tank weapons, though... Not from the arsenal, anyway. As far as WWII era weapons, you'll probably find some old Lee-Enfield MkIII rifles, or Lee-Enfield Number 4 rifles. You also might find some Sterling SMGs, or if you're really lucky, a DeLisle silent carbine.)

Fortunately for the crowd, the soldiers seemed more than pleased with what they'd captured. The paratroopers held the line, using their intimidating presence to hold back the mob. So far, not even a single shot had been fired, though even though they were outnumbered, it was clear the Airborne troops would get the best of the exchange if it came to that. They wore body armour, had the latest assault rifles and general purpose machine guns. They had grenades and anti-tank weapons, and as the mob watched, the situation just got worse.

Having heard reports of armoured vehicles prompted by the old Sherman, the Dominion was responding with modern hardware. They meant to hold the airport and the seaport and force the "General" to negotiate. Even muttered regrets that Croston's old tank wasn't there died away as the heavy lift aircraft taxied to a halt, the ramps coming down. No fewer than five Normandy Infantry Fighting Vehicles rolled off the aircraft... Accompanied by a pair of brand new DT-10 tanks. Even with the heavier weapons salvaged from the armoury, there was nothing on the island that could do much more than scratch those big Black Mambas. Following the heavy hardware came a quartet of Shalakh ASTOVL fighters.

Things on Tarleton were getting interesting...

(Ah, those will do nicely. I think I'm at least basically familiar with them all. Now if only you hadn't shut down our airport and seaport, and thus only direct access to the vast arsenals beyond.. :) )

Tarleton

Problems in Tarleton were getting worse the longer disorder went on. The tax system was only becoming more confused, and Croston was the only man recognisable and respected enough to hold much sway. He returned to Tarleton despite calls by Hesketh natives for his aid in the fighting there.

Hazel Grove, Napier, Tarleton

The surprisingly large local Church that Croston had made by association the republic's nerve centre hosted a low key meeting. General Thomas Croston called upon his Hesketh-born friend James Boothe- they had much to discuss.

"We have to do something about the Kotts!" Boothe was energetically insisting. "They have to understand that we're gone, that Tarleton isn't theirs to walk troops over anymore!"

"Who's we? Come on, Jamie, there's nothing Tarleton can do- it hasn't a government, hasn't a voice. Look outside!" He said, strolling across the dusty wooden floor towards the partly broken stained glass and gesticulating with some drama.

"It's anarchy! Thus far all we've done is to draw Kotterdam's attention back to a neglected colonial outpost."

"And now they're back, with tanks!"

"Quite, Jamie, quite! If anything we've made things worse.. except for those amongst us who want the Kotts back.. the recent expats.. other immigrants with designs on local influence.. on making their fortune here.

"No, we've got to organise. And that's why I asked you here at.." The slightly eccentric Croston drew out from the shiny blue of his waistcoat an old pocketwatch. "..Two AM. We're setting up elections, and you're running against me. I'm the most recognisable figure in the country.. people will either vote for me or against me. Now we can't between the pair of us dictate who may and may not run, but I can influence perceptions about who does and does not worry me. If I focus my campaign on beating this Heskether, this Boothe fellow, my detractors should be drawn to him."

Boothe frowned a little, but looked interested enough for the General to continue.

"Oh, sure there'll be other opponents, but no one with anything more than local recognition.. no one who can win without forming a coalition against me. That's where you come in. I'll make you so recognisably my opposite that no coalition against me can turn you down, and that anyone against me without a local celebrity to vote for looks to you. One of us is sure to win."

"That's all very well, but how does it help with the Kotts?"

"Well, once we've a government we're united, and we can think about acting against common foe. Heck, James, we can all agree to ignore them until they go away! If we have a democratic government the world will flock to us if they use force. Yes, this election thing means eventual independence for Tarleton under one of us two. And if you win, well, Hesketh will be more inclined to join us.. if you lose, you'll have no problem winning there and then you can join us anyway."

And so it was decided- Tarleton was to be distracted by a nice national election. Croston remained, but his tank was sent to Hesketh where it would fight for the natives as a sign of support, and Boothe even approached the Kotterdam forces at the airport, waving a white flag and asking if they'd like to send a civilian team to over-see elections.

By identifying himself as a figurehead for Kotterdam co-operation he at once polarised the population, many thinking him a peacemaker and identifying him with Kotterdam's relative prosperity while others ran to the arms of revolutionary Croston.

(OOC: Heh... :D The idea was to force Croston, no matter what he does, to deal with the Dominion.

The Black Mamba tanks were absolutely terrifying. By this point there were four of them on the airport grounds, ten of the IFVs and twice as many Airborne Rangers as before. Two of the Mambas had moved up to block the road into the airport, rolling silently but for the sound of their treads crunching the ground beneath them, and the soft hum of electric motors. The Dominion forces had met with Boothe, listening to what he had to say about the democratic elections before sending him on his way with a message. They wanted to speak with Croston. Now.

Meanwhile, at the seaport, the cruiser that had launched the helicopters that had performed the extraction at the Governor's residence had moved into the harbour, the powerful trimaran ship resting at anchor, her twin cannons pointed vaguely at the city, ready to provide fire support if neccesary. The ship's compliment of marines had been landed by helicopter, along with the troops from the Governor's residence. While a significantly less potent force than the Rangers at the airport, they were enough to hold the seaport... Especially with the big guns of the cruiser backing them up.

As the marines and army troops relieved them, the Naval SWORD operatives changed into civilian clothes, exchanging their modern weapons for those captured when they took the seaport. Armed much like the locals, and otherwise indistinguishable from the armed rebels, they slipped out of the seaport under cover of darkness, and made their way to the island's telephone exchange, ordering everyone out on "General Croston's authority", and brandishing their weapons when met with any resistance. Once they held the telephones, the powerful jammers onboard the cruiser kicked into gear.

More powerful than the island's strongest transmitter, they blanketed the city with their interference, rendering radio communication almost impossible. With the phone exchange in Dominion hands, and radios jammed, the only means of communication remaining to the rebels would be either face to face, or over the television. Now, with that done, the Dominion forces waited. It was Croston's move.

"Now, with that done, the Dominion forces waited. It was Croston's move."

-And Croston promptly fell asleep for a couple of weeks. Sorry about that, I'm back, I think.

Tarleton

Having won little obvious interest from the Dominion, Boothe handed on their request for an audience with Croston. Life in the nation was becoming ever more difficult, so he had to accept.

Fighting in Hesketh was dying down, with friendly native forces winning out across the board, but no one in Tarleton yet knew, since radio communications seemed to have gone down.

Croston had set off towards the airport before it became apparent that the telephone exchange had been taken, and of course couldn't be quickly contacted with the imformation.

Security at the airport was tight - Tighter than one would expect, even with the island's state of political unrest. Soldiers checked under Crosston's car with mirrors, and dogs sniffed it for explosives. Even with this precaution taken, and all the soldiers about, Croston was ordered out of his car, and made to choose only two guards or advisors to come with him about a hundred meters from the terminal.

Croston and his two advisors were then loaded into a Hunter Multi-Purpose Vehicle, and driven up to the terminal, where they were shepherded into the food court. There, sitting calmly at a table, eating a hamburger made at the nearby Harvey's outlet, was the Right Honourable Scott Haley, Prime Minister of the Dominion of Kotterdam. Looking up, he smiled.

"You hungry? One of the guys from the support company used to work at a Harvey's, and he taught some of the cooks how they do it back home." the Prime Minister asked. "The guys have been all over it, so supplies are pretty low, but we can probably rustle you up a Big Harv, some onion rings... Maybe a shake, though I wouldn't bet on it. Have a seat. We've got a lot to talk about."

It was no problem that Croston's party was limited, since he was only joined by three associates in the first place. One had managed to get carsick and was glad of a chance to sprawl out on the backseat of the battered old vehicle as the others were lead away.

Croston was surprised to see PM Haley here in Tarleton, but he made careful not to show it. Not that anyone seeing him for the first time would likely have been drawn to his facial expression before his elaborately wavey black hair, striking blue waistcoat, flowing black tenchcoat, polished boots, and ring-adorned velvet gloves (which were likely some manner of simulated velvet, with rings less expensive than they appeared).

His associates were less dramatic, and also less guarded, one appearing obviously taken aback by their guest..or host, depending on one's perspective, and the other frowning heavily, half recognising the Prime Minister, but not quite able to place him for a few seconds.

Croston had to accept the offer of food on behalf of his flabbergasted comrades.

Haley himself was a far more subtle man, dressed simply in a dark suit with a blue dress shirt and striped tie beneath a long, black London Fog coat. Though he had brought gloves of his own, they were leather and sat neatly on the table as he ate his meal. Nodding to one of the soldiers, he had a steward take the orders from the men and sent him off to find the food. Once the grilled hamburgers were topped properly and set before the three men from Tarleton, Haley began.

"By now, you've got to realize the situation you're in, so I won't rub your faces in it. Instead, I'm going to talk a little about the position you've put me in, General." the Prime Minister began, munching idly on an onion ring. "Armed rebellion really doesn't play well back home. My approval rating's dropped more in the past week than it has in the past year. The opposition leader wants me to let the tanks roll, and we both know that if I do that, there's nothing on this island that can stop them."

Haley took a nice big bite of his hamburger, taking the time to chew and swallow before continuing. "Now... I'm not going to do that. Not unless you make me. The last thing I want to do is order troops to fire on Dominion citizens - And for the moment, at least, you still are Dominion citizens." Taking a sip of his shake - Possibly the last strawberry shake available on the airport grounds - He collected his next words. "I think we'd both like to avoid that, really. If I sent in the Rangers, it'd be unpleasent for everyone involved."

"So here's the deal. In twelve hours, I'm going to return the telephone exchange - Which I think was captured while you were en-route. I'd return it sooner, but I thought I'd show you just the kind of thing we're capable of doing - Just in case someone under your command started thinking heroically." he explained. "In twenty four hours, I'll be ordering the Rangers out of the airport and into the streets. They'll have orders to stop any looting, or vandalism. In forty-eight hours, a team from the Dominion will set up polling stations, and in exactly one week for today, we will hold a local - Not a national, but a local referendum on Tarleton independance. That looks good for me, it works well for you. Everyone's happy."

"If things go the way I'm expecting, that vote will lead to this little island breaking away from the Dominion. If things go that way, then the best of luck to you. If you need help, you know how to contact us." he said, leaning back in his seat. "There are some conditions though. First, Hesketh isn't my turf. Whatever you do over there is your business, but on Tarleton, until next week's referendum results come in, this is Dominion territory, and I'm declaring martial law. Anyone out after curfew will be arrested. Dominion firearms laws and concealed carry laws will be respected, but anyone carrying a longarm around town will be arrested, and that damned tank of yours better not be rumbling around the streets - It plays bad on the TV at home, and makes it hard for me to run this independance thing through parliament."

"Oh, and one more thing - Twenty four hours means twenty four hours. Tommorow, when the Rangers roll out, if your people start shooting at them, the deal's off." he informed them. "If your forces start fighting my Rangers, they're going to start playing hardball, and you're not going to like the way that works out. Hell, I won't like the way that works out. I'm trying to make this as painless as possible, but if you start killing Rangers, then I can't help you. That stunt where you rammed your tank through the wall of the government building was bad enough. Boys and girls coming home in body bags will take the matter out of my hands entirely. Do we understand each other?"

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