NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Pantera volunteered for this, it has all been cleared with him.

In the town of Blaze, Southern Pantera, dissent had been stirring among youth. They opposed the government, and saw it as corrupt and oppressive. However, in the town of only 30,000, they didn't think they could make much of a difference in their nation. But when Ben Stragnos, a prominent politician in the area, toured through the area, the Panteran Liberation Front, a group of poor High School students, decided to strike.

The mayor of Blaze had extended his hand to Stragnos, when he was shot twice by a PLF member located within the crowd. The man forced his way through the crowd, shooting and killing a bystander.

As Stragnos was rushed away from the scene of the mayor's assassination, a bomb attached to his car exploded before he neared the vehicle. Stragnos was then forced at gunpoint to enter a black van, and was then evacuated from the area.

A grenade was then thrown at a group of police, killing four officers and wounding three others.

Stragnos is listed as 'kidnapped'. A ransom letter has been obained bvy the Blaze police force, demanding $16 million U.S. for Stragnos' release.

The make of the pistol used to assassinate the mayor is that of a Galdanian ZK-53, and several of the kidnappers were heard speaking a Slavic language, possibly Galdanian.
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The Galdanian government has denied any involvement in the attack.

The Lord Reaver, upon hearing of the attack and abduction of Ben Stragnos, a prominent commoner in the South, ordered that the city of Blaze be secured by Reavers of nearby Sunspear.

Less than an hour after the attack, the city of Blaze has been placed under the protection of the Lord Reaver's own banners, and had been declared under His Justice. For sixty miles in any direction the roads have been closed and Reaver ships patrol the coastline, seizing any and all vessels unfortunate enough to blunder into the search area. The entire city and is holdings are under lock and key.

As the traffic slowly grinds to a stop, teams of Reavers sweep through the city, searching for the offending parties and the missing politician.

When reached for comment, Bastien the Bronze said only,"There will be no escape, and there will be no ransom. Kill him, cowards, and I shall torture you for years, within sight of your loved ones who will suffer the same fate. To the ends of eternity I shall hound you, however, should you choose to surrender yourselves and Stragnos, I will allow you safe passage to a nation of your desire, unharmed. There will be no further negotiations. Surrender, or condemn all that you love to the flames. The roads and seas are closed, my pilots scream through the skies, and even now legions of my Reavers scour the city for you. Do not delude yourselves with thoughts of escape. There is no hope."

OOC:*shudders* remind me never to make you mad, Pantera.

Closing on Pantera, twenty-four Jackal Stealth Fighters moved to engage the Panteran airforce. They were unmarked, and black as the night.
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Within the town, the PLF were huddled in a shed with Stragnos. They heard men down the street...

The six in the shed with Stragnos readied their rifles, while the bomb strapped to Stragnos' chest stayed wired to the PLF leader's hand.

High above the Panteran mainland a patrol screams through the night sky. One of many strafing patrols that scour Panteran airspace.

Reaver command, this is Warwind Zero, on patrol abo... I've got multiple strange readings, Command... Unclear as of yet... I've got... Reaver command! Command, we have unidentifieds closing fast! Moving to intercept... Multiples, I repeat multiple craft...

Encroaching vessels, this is restricted airspace. Return to international air and identify yourselves or be destroyed. I repeat, identify yourselves or be destroyed!

As the pilots challenge reaches the incoming jets the call to battle sounds across southern Pantera and almost immediately half of the warrior nation is prepared for battle. Dozens of jets lift off from Sunspear, Resin and a score of other cities, filling the air with eyes and ears. If these invaders thought to catch them unawares, they had much to learn about Pantera.

Encroaching vessels, this is restricted airspace. Return to international air and identify yourselves or be destroyed. I repeat, identify yourselves or be destroyed!

The challenge is sent once more as the now thick cloud of Reaver fighters converges on the incoming aircraft.

The anonymous jets quickly gained altitude and circled about, flying away from Pantera at nearly Mach 5. One of them released something from under it's wing. The device was designed to jam transmissions, radar, and radio-controlled missiles. The Jackals moved back to their base in the South Pacific at top speed.

Command, they've jammed most of us. Disappeared heading southeast, orders?

Remain in Panteran space, Warwind. Do not persue at this moment.

ALL PILOTS: We are now at full alert. Nothing moves in these skies but our own wings.


And with that the persuing fighters break off and return, skirting the edge of Panteran claimed territory in the event of a return.

*******************

In Blaze, Reaver forces have surrounded the shed and are demanding surrender,"There is no escape, cowards. Release Stragnos, submit yourselves, and by the Gods you have my word no harm will come to you. Continue in this error and the Lord Reaver has vowed to make you watch as your families are flayed alive, one after the other, and when they are all dead and drained, you will be boiled alive in the blood of those you once held dear. SURRENDER, or condemn your families face this horror and a thousand more. You have one minute!"

Roughly a dozen armored Reavers creep ever closer to the shed, wary of a trap, but eager for en end to this fiasco.

The shed burst open, and PLF members screamed 'Get away!' and 'Bomb!'. Their hands were in the air, with no weapons in them, and they dove to the ground, and the shed exploded, with Stragos and more determined PLF members being blown apart within the metal framework of the building.

With a roar the encircling Reavers rush forward, slamming into the surviving PLF members who stare about, dazed from the explosion. Swiftly and brutally the soldiers bind and remove them, whispering of the horrors to come.

A swift search of the area gained the Reavers a Galdanian ZK-53 pistol, a few burnt pieces of communist literature and numerous prisoners. The prisoners were by far the most valuable, and with a contingent of Crimson Priests in the sweeping force, they would soon tell all they knew.

One hour later...

The Priest was an old one, his forked beard long and died a brilliant red. Wrinkled and spotted, he still carried himself straight, and his dark brown eyes, almost black, missed nothing.

Before him were three of the taken prisoners, more had been taken, wounded and otherwise, but he would get to them. Bound they were, and naked, their heads tied to the timbers upon which they had been nailed.

The Priest, his face placid reaches onto the table before him and slowly chooses an instrument, a paper-thin, cruelly hooked blade about the length of his forearm. Placing the blade on his small brazier, he blows on the coals silently, his eyes alight with the glow of the coals, never halting in their survey of the bound men.

"Now my good men, the Gods have seen fit to allow me to be your Questioner. I am a purger of filth from the souls of men such as yourselves. When I ask a question, you will respond politely, and in a timely fashion. If you do not, I will show you the meaning of -horror-, am I understood?" One of the men grunts a reply, the second attempts to
beg for for mercy and a the last spits at the old Priests feet, and growls in a heavy Slavic accent,"Eat shit old man, you'll have nothing from me. The People will triumph, know that! Liberation!"

The man continues shouting for a moment, but quiets as the Priest takes up his blade, now glowing a rich, fiery orange. Stepping forward, the old man smiles and in a conversational tone begins to question,"Where are your cohorts in this folly? How many? Who supplied you with the explosives? Was there foreign influence involved?

The man cursed and railed at the Priest, but soon the old man tired of his abuse and befan his 'Questioning'...

When the poor fool's screams finally die away, he hangs limp, jabbering incoherently and jerking at the bolts which hold his arms to the timbers. The stench of shit and burning flesh mingle sourly in the air, along with the musky scent of swear and fear wafting off of the remaining two prisoners.