NationStates Jolt Archive

This is the start of my return to the RP scene here on Nationstates. I've been out for nearly a year, so no doubt I'll be very rusty. Any comments and participation is welcome, of course.
I should point out that Pablicosta has been living under a corrupt left wing government for 2 years now, one which demands total independence from the rest of the World. This is the story of revolution, the start of which is in a basement within the capitol, Pablicosta.

As the sun slipped past the horizon at the end of 1st street, Pablicosta City, 3 young men sat around a round table. They looked as every Class 3 Pablicostan looked these days, the green work overalls, a duffel bag, black and a cap, black. All provided by the state.
You never see a Class 3 Citizen smile, the only people who smile are the Class 6 Citizens and The Chancellor. Society was supposed to be classless and unified under the left wing Elite Party. As that very thought passed through Hans's mind he let out a small chuckle, everything was supposed to be so good he thought as he watched his warm breath rising through the cold air.
The man sitting across from Hans lifted his head and put his hand to his forehead, and in his hoarse tone said "They won't come you know Hans, it's a pipe dream. You know it as well as I".

"Henry, they'll be here, I promise you. They heard the call, and they'll be here. Soon. Here-" said Hans, an optimistic, almost naive pip to his voice, "take some more vodka, I don't want it." Even though it was illegal to consume alcohol in Pablicosta, the group had managed to procure some from a party of border smugglers. Henry had taken the glass of vodka and as he prepared to take a sip of the vile stuff, he wiped some of the yellow grime from the window beside him. No light came into the basement room, but he could make out one of the huge government advertising boards by the street outside. The slogan was written in letters 10ft high and it read:

"NO ALCOHOL, NO PROBLEM"

Next to it was an empty noose. As Henry took his long awaited sip, the third man piped up;

"You best enjoy that Henry my boy, the boys who got it for us were blown up by a border patrol this morning".

Boris was notorious for knowing almost everything that happened in the huge country, and even this demoralizing comment amused the other 2 plotters quite a lot. Just as the minor furore died down there was a loud banging at the door.

"It's them! We're done for! Damnit Hans! Damnit!" yelled Henry as he stood abruptly, a little too abruptly in fact as his head thundered into one of the concrete beams supporting the floor above them. He fell back to his seat, his eyes slightly glazed, and stayed there. Without him, Hans and Boris picked up 2 pistols from the table, placing Henry's out of sight on the floor as they approached the door.

"Ready?" asked Boris tentatively, "if it isn't friendly, it's been an honour knowing you"

"It is friendly Boris, it has to be them" Hans said confidently as he took up his place on the wall beside the door, his pistol drawn and loaded. Just in case he told himself. Boris had his gun concealed, but was no less ready to fire should the door be hiding the Inquisitors or worse. He pulled the door open quickly and violently and was immediately by 5 men bursting in, each holding a rifle and wearing the standard Class 3 uniforms.

"Bloody hell" whispered Boris "It's really happening. Bloody hell!".

"Comrades" shouted one of the new arrivals as he closed the door and looked round the room, "shall we get started?".

To be continued...Dun dun dunnnn

NS writers block has set in already...

-------------------------------------------------- Evening, January 11th

"Do you have the letter?" Asked Hans, looking eagerly at one of the new arrivals. He received no response. "Comrade? Comrade Dawson?" he asked again, reaching out to touch Dawson's shoulder.
Dawson took a large step back and engaged Hans in a stare, "Of course we have the letter Hans, if you just shut up and sit down we can get ready!" his voice grew towards a shout as he continued to glare at Hans, who backed away and took his seat. A few minutes had passed since Henry had put himself into a daze and by now he was back to his vodka.

"So" started Boris, his voice carrying from his position at the door, "We're really ready?". Again, the question was aimed at Comrade Dawson.

"We're really ready young Boris, in 2 hours it begins." Everyone in the room glanced around to see the ticking clock mounted on the wall, 22:00.

-------------------------------------------------- Midnight, January 11th

The door closed behind the last member of the group as they left the basement together, each wearing their standard Class 3 uniform covered by a black overcoat which concealed a DC5 Semi-Automatic machine gun. This was war now, and the revolutionists would strike the first blow.
They walked through the back streets, even though the whole city was deserted after curfew, toward the faceless building at the end of 1st street. The National Communication Center was home to PNS, the only TV station allowed to broadcast since The Changes, and tonight it, along with many other targets across the nation would be attacked. Hundreds of Revolutionary Fighters had received the letter calling them to arms, together, for Pablicosta and Pablicostan's.

Within minutes the fighters could see the NCC across a junction, it's front door closed and locked. That was good though, they had no intention of using the front door, or any door for that matter. Beneath them was the city cable line, which ran directly into the signal room where they would start the assault.
Dropping down into the cable line was easy, and they quickly found themselves making their way along the cable itself toward the light which emanated from the signal room. Once they pushed through the man hole cover they would begin the assault proper, no mercy, no prisoners. Inside there should be 35 employees and 7 security guards, but you could be never sure in these times; 7 guards could become 20 soldiers very quickly.
"Heave!" urged Henry as he and one of the other men pushed up against the cover while the others waited to pounce upwards and get stuck in. The anticipation was building and every few seconds a Fighter would check his weapon was loaded and that he was absolutely ready.

Every man here was ready to die for the cause. None would die today.

They broke through into the signal room on the 3rd try and light poured into the cable line, but already 2 fighters had cleared the tunnel and opened fire on the 2 operators sat in the room. There were no screams as both of the operators heads split almost in 2 and crashed onto the panel in front of them. Soon all the men were gathered in the signal room, standing by the door ready to advance.