NationStates Jolt Archive

[OOC - I posted this first in International Incidents, but I don't know where it should go - basically it's just introducing my new nation the Free Land of Rashann which at least in the beginning will be in huge trouble in becoming free of a totalitarian former regime and later have to rebuild a shattered economy and infrastructure. Offers of covert aid and/or development aid to the Free Republic would be very welcome]

Rashannese State Television reports that "anarcho-capitalist terrorists" in the pay of unspecified foreign governments were behind the distrubances that forced all radio and television channels off the air yesterday. Jarod Hesarich, the vice-chairman of the Rashannese United Workers Party has declared that the nation is calm, but a curfew has been imposed for the safety of the citizens of the Soviet Republic.

Foreign news crews are included in that curfew but from our hotel in the capital Igorislav we have heard gunfire although the streets immediately surrounding the hotel are free of any trouble. In the western city of Maryseport a radio station is reportedly in rebel hands and a "Free Republic of Rash'ann" has been proclaimed. Persistant rumours state that the island of Tenobia, home of the main prison that holds political prisoners is also in control of "The Free Republic" and that Walton Aberyaller, son of former Prime Minister Rickard Aberyaller is leading the revolution.

It is too early to say if the attempted revolution will succeed but it seems doubtful unless the rebellion in Maryseport is supported by foreign covert aid.

Background on Rash'ann
Rash'ann has been a troubled nation since the War of Liberation 138 years ago that first united Rash'ann. The communities of the country have always been been fierce rivals with each other when they have not had an external enemy to face and that internal weakness has led to a number of invaders in their history.

Following the death of Father of the Nation, Jonell Horacik in 1872 decades of weak governments and periodic military rule left Rash'ann divided into four parts. In 1969 a communist coup brought the UWP to power in Northern Rash'ann by 1987, the North has brought the old three parts (Western, Southern and Old Rash'ann) under their control and the country slid into international isolation.

http://www.andydowland.com/rash'ann.jpg

Would said revolution be open to assistance from foreign nations?

In Maryseport, the largest city of Western Rash'ann, a local station of the Rashannese State Radio service is in the hands of a group calling itself the Free Republic of Rash'ann. The unidentified woman making the broadcasts has said that the Free Republic holds eight blocks of downtown Maryseport, defended by troops from a nearby barracks who joined the protesters. There are reports of soldiers being sent from further flung parts of the Soviet Republic to quell the rebellion and the woman pleads with the international community to support the uprising. There was an mostly forgotten United Nations resolution passed when the (Northern) Rashannese Soviet Republic invaded the (Western) Rashannese Confederation in 1987 so there is a pretext however slight for assistance.

Space

The KMAV-998x were the newest in the line of Imitoran Spy Satallites. New computer upgrades, and a modular recording data base allowed them to now not only take pictures and images such as the proverbial newspaper headline from xyz miles up, but now came with new features. All the KMAVs had the ability to send live images, but it had been on a time delay, one new image every seven seconds. These newest could send live video with no need for a ground transmitter, and hold images in a database to be put together as film later on. Further, the video only had a short time delay, just under one full second, so when you saw it on your screen, it was as close as it could be, next to actually being there.

And this particular KMAV was doing just that, sending live video to the Imitoran State Department. The images were from the new uprising, showing the violence in the streets of Rashann. However, the were also using their other new ability, and transmitting the actual radio waves from the Free Republic broadcast. While Imitora had always had the ability to intercept open waves, it had once required a seperate satalitte. A small cadre had gathered around the large video screen, listening to the broadcast.

"What are they?"
"Are we supporting them?"
"Whats going on?"

Questions rang out through the room, and were soon silenced by the audible opening, and closing , of a heavy steel door. The man who walked through was dressed in formal military atire, the tried and true casual blues of the Imitoran Air Force. Lt. Col. Aurto Hodge, Imitoran Air Force, was the head of the State Department's Space Survailiance Program, which tied in closely with the ICIAs own survailiance program. He held a small breifcase in one hand, the other hand free, and waved to silence the rest of the room. He walked with clear distinction over to one of the computers, and from the briefcase, he produced a small flashdrive. He plugged it into the nearest server, pressed a button, and downloaded the entire day's events from Rashann to the drive.

"Whose in charge of communications?" he asked, his voice thick with an educated Spanish accent.

A man wearing a dress shirt with rolled up sleaves and a hastely tied tie waved. "That would be me."

"I need you to get us a frequency fix on that radio station, also, any other names you can get off the air. See if you can get in contact with them. Someone named John is gonna be over soon from ICIA. Work with him."

"Yessir," the State agent responded.

With that, Arturo moved out of the room, and onto more important locations.
+
[size=1]Presidential Mansion
Northampton, Imitora[/i]

President Thomas 'Hoot' Gibbson sat behind a rather ornate oak desk, one that he found all too ornate. He had just managed to somehow secure a second term in office, and unfortunately, this wouldn't be one of the peacefull terms he had managed to secure the first time around. He already had operations in the Tarlachian theatre, and had dispatched a number of units from the Naval Special Warefare Office to Nebulasia to secure a hostage situation. Further, he had to prepare a funeral speech, and organize a fund raising dinner. Life as usual.

His hands were gliding over a keyboard, typing up a speech for said fund raising dinner, when he heard the all to familiar two knocks at his door. Everyone else knocked three times. Sinclair only knocked twice. "Come in," he said, not looking away from the computer screen. Sinclair had barely entered the room when Hoot spoke again. "What group is asking for our help this time?" His voice was almost fatigued. When he looked, up, he was suprised to see Arturo accompaning his Minister of State.

"Hey, Arturo, good to see ya again!" Hoot smiled, pushing away from his computer. "What brings ya to this side of the river?"

"Uprising, Mr. President, little place called Rashann."

"Damnit, Arty, we worked together for ten years. Call me Hoot. Whats the news Sinclair?"

Donald Sinclair, Minister of Foreign Affairs, sat across from Hoot, and Arturo next to Donald. "Well, same reason I've been in here for the past three days. Another uprising, another cause, some more troops or money sent. This time its the good guys. The group is the Free Republic of Rash'ann, described by local news outlets as 'anarcho-capitalist terrorists.' Seems they have started a nice little uprising over there, and currently hold some land with help from troops. Fun situation."

"They hold eight blocks in their biggest city, and a handfull of troops are siding with the rebels. We can't get any names from the intercepted broadcasts, but our boys from The Company have pressed some palms, and have at least one name. Abryaller, Walton, son of the former Prime Minister. We think he is leading the group, or at least thats what they are saying." The Company was the nickname around Imitoran government officials for the ICIA. "It looks like a good start, Hoot, but they could always use help," Arturo added.

"Well," Hoot asked, looking at the two men.

"We are spread pretty thin, Mr. President, but I think we could support a battle group, and maybe some, how would you say it, advisors to the Free Republic," Sinclair chimed in. Hoot glanced over to the Air Force man.

"Its a good cause sir. I was in a meeting with the big dogs in military command earlier today, and they say that our current forces in Tarlachia can handle themselves well enough. You know how I feel about this cause." Arturo's home nation had once been held by a more dictatorial government. Imitora, then in the Allied Powers Alliance, had worked with fello nation Liberty Fighters, and freed Arturo's small home land. He had imigratted to Imitora, and hadn't left since then.

"Right, well, let me get in contact with Adm. Chaffin, and J. Buck, and work something out. Arturo, chill here till they get here, I want your input dropped in. Thanks for the words Donald, I'll get in touch with ya later."

Sinclair nodded, and left the room. Only a few hours later, Arturo, Adm. Christen 'Fireball' Chaffin of the Imitoran Navy and Johnathan 'J. Buck' Reynolds of the ICIA, and President Gibbson left the room, having made their final decison.
+
It had been four hours since the decison had been made, and the Robert Fortier Carrier Battle Group was at full steam in the open waters, blazing their way towards Rashann. Upon arrival, they would try to make contact with the rebels in order to make the best location to leave one of their deadlier cargos, Military Advisors from the Imitora Centeral Intelligence Agency. Military Advisors was the PC speak for ICIA Special Operators, men who had no connection to the Imitoran Military and were trained in the art of insurgency.

Pasvisav - Dragon's Spine District, Old Rash'ann

Suk Balacun very gently and carefully twisted the tuning dial of his radio in an attempt to make the female voice on the radio more distinct. It was difficult, but there was no mistaking the words.

"This is the Free Republic of Rash'ann, the Free Republic of Rash'ann. Here is the news. Thousands of people in Maryseport have risen up to overthrow the oppression of the Soviet regime. Troops that were sent to imprison us from Surgail Barracks have joined the people. The Peoples Army should not attack the people's will, the Peoples Commissars should follow the people not lead them."

"What's that you're doing?" asked the blonde woman in a dressing gown that came in from the bathroom down the hallway.

"Listening to this uprising, Marlene, you ought to hear what they they just said about Peoples Commissars, that they should follow not lead." Suk replied with a teasing grin.

Teasing his Peoples Commissar wife could have landed him in a re-education camp or worse, but Marlene took it well, "I can follow every one else in the village. But you will have to do exactly what I say."

... fade to black ...

[OOC - will post more later]

Igorislav: Capital District, Northern Rash'ann

Chairman Ashlev Krallman, the wily old fox of the Rashannese United Workers Party eyed the glass of expensive foreign cognac and the report on his desk with equal suspicion, eventually deciding to push the folder away and reach for the glass and the bottle too for good measure.

"But Sir, this is a very important - there are reports of a battle group approaching the Guardian Isles." The eager and smartly dressed aide said, still standing at attention.

Ashlev growled at the younger gentleman. "I knew your grandfather, we faced arrest and imprisonment for our beliefs and he would know that at a time like this cognac is very important as well, yes."

Leo, the aide, nodded, allowing the chairman to wallow in memory of lost comrades for a moment and then pressed. "Can I give you the report Sir.". Getting a grunt of what he hoped was approval, the young man started.

"As you know the trouble started after a goal scored by PAC Igorislav against Maryseport Dragons. We thought it was just the usual hooliganism until we had reports that 17 other cities were also rioting. It was at this point that we lost communication with the re-education centre on Tenobia. We're still not sure what happened there. Here in Igorislav, rioters got to the TV station and forced it off the air temporarily, in other cities the rebels hold areas of property."

"Well, get the troops in to crack some heads. That's what we normally do." The gruff Chairman pointed out.

"That was of course our first step, but some of the troops held votes, some deciding to remain in barracks and some to actually assist the rebels. Currently half of our army is tied up making sure that the other half of the army doesn't cause trouble. We're stretched thin and with the Imitoran Battle
Group steaming this way, we could have a problem on our hands. Then there's the seccessionists, there in lies a perfect solution."

"How so." Ashlev leaned forward, clearly interested in a solution.

Leo grinned and moved back to a map on the wall which covered Rash'ann and the surrounding area, producing one of those Imitoran made laser pointers to demonstrate. "In the constitution Rash'ann belongs to the people, Every citizen belongs to a local soviet, that soviet sends someone to the district soviet, then the regional soviet and the National Soviet next door. Every soviet, from the region to the local can secede from the one above, sending their delegate to another soviet instead."

"I fail to see the point of it except those cartographers hate the shifting borders. Explain." Ashlev wanted the young man to come to the point.

"A couple of hours ago the village of Pasvisav, it's in the mountains in Old Rash'ann elected to leave the Soviet Republic and join the Free Republic. It was so sweet, the old lady that chairs that Soviet rang in to tell us. I say let them go, here's my idea."

"One, the Free Republic will be too small and weak to do anything, especially with bit of the republic across the whole of Rash'ann."

"Two, we can show the world we're not oppressors, we respect the right of citizens to make up their mind. The Imidorans can't have any justification for invading then."

"Three we insist on the rebels standing down in those areas that have not voted to secede and the army should be back on our side."

"Would you want me to arrange a meeting with the Imidoran ambassador Sir?" With another grunt from the Chair, Leo was gone. In his haste he was not sure if the Imidorans had an embassy in Igorislav, but if there was, he would get the ambassador here.

The brisk, cool sea air filled Adm. David Clagget's lungs, the scent of salt water and cool air filling him. He had been born and raised on the Imitoran coastline, and always loved the sea. He listened intently over the sound of roaring engines and activity on the deck of the tri-maran carrier below him, instead focusing on the slaping noise of the waves against the massive grey slab sides of the ship. He then turned to watch as one of three F/A-18H Yellow Jackets rocketed off the deck, pulling up into the sky. The two seater version of the ultra-versatile fighter bomber met up with its compatriots, and the slid into an easy formation as the disapeared into the sky.

The fog rolling off the sea kept visability low at this level, but up in the sky, the fighters had no problem seeing where they were going. On the ocean surface, however, the ships used GPS and computer navigation systems to co-ordinate their movement. According to all the numbers, they were sitting a mere fifteen miles off the coast of Tenobia, moving at a slow thirteen knots. He drifted off, letting his mind wander back to his days as a young Ensign at the Imitoran Naval Accademy, comanding a small trawler off the Imitoran coast for his training, remembering the foggy days as such. The heavy whir of twin rotor blades snapped him back to reality, and he watched a two black painted MV-22Is came to a hover over the deck of his ship, moving into land. He had a meeting to get to.
+
High over Rashann, the three Yellow Jackets moved gracefully through the sky. They were armed lightly, a few air to air missiles and air to ground missiles kept them safe, but they weren't on an attack run. They had other missions. The lead fighter in the group was on a recon run, the onboard cammera snapping and filming away, getting better veiws of the terrain. The fun stuff, however, went to the other two.

Once they were feet dry over Rashann, the dropped altitude, settling at 1500 feet. Once they hit low level, the pilots disengaged the Athena MOD active anti-radar system. The Athena system was designed to block, passively bypass, redirect, or one of many other options, any radar system pointed at the fighter. With the deactivation of the system, the two fighters could be picked up by any radar scans, and activation of the attack radars on the fighters would send out even more waves. This was done as well. In a mock Wild Weasel mission, the two Yellow Jackets were testing and probing the radar and air defense screen, seeing exactly what the government forces could toss up, should push come to shove.
+
"Well, I don't exactly see the need for an ICIA presence on the ship, considering you boys could just hole up with the 22nd on the troop carrier. But thats not my choice, so what do you want." Clagget's greeting was informal, and borderline dis-inviting, to the ICIA operations leader that had just landed with 50 other insurgency operation specialists.

"We just need to get incontact with the resistance leader, who ever is in charge on their side. Let them know we are here, and we're gonna help. All we really need for you to do on your side is make sure my birds can get it without getting blown to all hell. After that, we use your comms ship as an amplifier, but you'll never need to deal with us again. Capiche?"

Clagget sighed. Ryan Cole was one of those Intell Ass Holes who thought that the position came with a liscense to be a dick. He was the type of guy who didn't think he could kick anyone's ass, knew everything, and was untouchable, no. He knew he could kick anyone's ass, knew everything, and was untouchable. But then again, with a record as impressive as his in insurgency and counter insurgency operations, it was expected. He had been there, done that, and gone back for the reunion.

"Listen Cole," the Battle Group commander all but barked, "I don't give two shits who the fuck you are with. When you use my shit, you play by my rules. I'm not gonna let you Company Cowboys get my men killed. Don't worry about your damn birds, if you pilots are worth their wings, you'll be fine going in. I have two birds up right now testing the shield. Until we have a need for you and your boys, I wan't you to stay the hell out of our way. Capiche?"

Cole just smiled and nodded. "Fine by me brother."
+-+
OOC: I don't think you would have an embassy for us in your nation, seeing as that we have had no formal contact before, and I skipped the whole diplomatic route. Your best bet would to have Ashlev contact the battle group through an open diplomatic channel, as all high level officers in the Imitoran military are authorized to act as ambasadors. Also, how would one go about contacting the Free Republic movement? Would I be better off just landing the ICIA boys on the beach, or would it be more prudent to have contact made first?