NationStates Jolt Archive

Slavery had always been a way of life for the citizens of Barretta. Even before the new government had come to power, and the communist Russians had controlled the land, the people had owned slaves. The people could not even recall the time where the hardest labor had to be done by those who owned the land. Though Barrettans had heard of or visited other nations that condemned slavery, they did not view their lifestyle is improper. After all, it was only the criminals and the inferior that were slaves anyway.

However, among the slaves, there were ones who remembered, or at least thought they did. They knew that the labor camp guards had gotten lazy, had grown fat and ignorant. So they met, and talked. Larger and larger groups formed, until finally, the levee broke.

Close to midnight a night later, one lone slave ran across the fields of the camp, screaming and yelling. Guards, startled and still drowsy, weren't sure exactly what to do. However, as the slave reached the fences, other prisoners, who the guards had not seen, appeared in the towers. They used boards, pipes, and whatever weapons they could to subdue their captors. Soon the prison was in their hands, and experienced burglers went to work breaking into the armory vault.

This was a scene repeated across the Barrettan north, as almost every other camp was torn apart by the slaves inside. After they had entered the vaults, they removed whatever riot gear they could, and set off for the nearest national guard armory. The Barrettan police attempted to block off roads and set traps for the slaves, but they were quickly overrun, as they had no experience in dealing with large mobs. As these rebellious slaves captured armories and met up with one another, they started to form into regular military units. Some of the the slaves had been enlisted in the military before they had committed whatever crime it was that had put them in chains. As they ravaged town after town, the cabinet of the Grand Duke met to discuss this most serious matter.

"Ladies and gentlemen, at the risk of sounding cliche, these slaves must be put down quickly and without mercy." stated Minster of Defense Dmitri Mann.
"We will do no such thing," countered Minster of Labor Vladimir Scholz. "We cannot afford such a loss of production. It would cripple us for years to come." The room was split almost down the middle on how to deal with this threat, so they did the worst thing a council could do in a time of peril: nothing. The army was not released to fight the slaves, and the police were being slaughtered by the weapons stolen from armories across the north.

Eventually, something had to be done. Aurel Constantin Ilie entered a meeting of the High Council and demanded action from the ministers, or he would have their resignations and their heads. After the Grand Duke stepped in for the first time since the beginning of his reign, a decision was made. Tanks and APCs rolled out of their sheds, and soldiers packed up their belongings and prepared for the march north. Unfortunately, by this time the slaves were well prepared for any incursions by the Barrettan military, and each attack was stopped and then repulsed. Casualties were stacking up against Barretta, and they had nothing to show for it. While they had the more advanced gear, the slaves were not fighting in a regular manner. Assassinations and quick strikes against depots were devastating the Barretta governments ability to put down this rebellion.

Through the words of one Barrettan soldier, "They took his eyes! Oh God, they took his eyes! He was on point, and they snuck up on him and gouged out his eyes. Then they opened fire on us. We couldn't do anything to help him. He lay there and bled to death on the ground in front of the depot, screaming for his mother, and we couldn't do a thing. 23 of us died that night, and we never found a single enemy body."

After the destruction of an entire regiment of motorized rifle troops during the storming of a village, the High Council of Barretta has sent out a general appeal for aid from the free world. The fate of our nation will be decided by your reaction. Please aid us in the destruction of the rebels.

(OOC: Any nation is welcome to apply for entrance to this RP. We will need some to help out the slaves though, so if you can see their side of the matter, go for it. However, since this is a small nation, it can't turn into WWXI or whatever. So limit the troops or aid you send.)

Nikolae Geoana studied the remains of the town from the turret of his new T-90 main battle tank. When the slaves had reached the town, they demanded immediate unconditional surrender from the inhabitants. The village aldermen had refused them, so the rebels had pounded the inhabitants into dust with captured artillery. By the time the army had reached them, the rebels had disappeared, and the village and its people were smoking craters.
"Damn these good-for-nothing heathens," said Nikolae. "They capture a town of innocents and murder every living person. And for what? To try to make a point? No, these people are animals, and they don't deserve to live." He beat the palm of his hand into the turret of his tank. "Move out," he yelled back to his column, "we're heading to the next town." Not twenty feet from him, hidden in the brush, a rebel scout smiled and slipped back to his radio to call for reinforcements.

Back in the Barrettan capital of Barantha, the Minister of Commerce, Franz Neff, was entering his Mercedes. He slid into the back seat, and leaned forward towards his driver to see how things were going. What he didn't see was the man that slipped into the seat next to him before the door closed. Even before Franz could turn to look at the man, he caught the glint of steel out of the corner of his eye. He didn't turn, but instead tried to whisper to his driver to call for help. But as the driver turned, the man in the back seat put two bullets into the back of the drivers head, spraying blood all over the front windshield. The man then turned to Franz and looked him straight in the eye. He said, "No man will suffer in hell as much as you and your comrades," and shot the minister through the eye. The man then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a remote control, just like one you would see next to any TV in Barretta. He said a soft prayer, and pushed the power button. Underneath the car, a small reciever caught this signal, and sent a pulse of electricity to the clump of Semtex that was attached to the bottom of the gas tank. The resulting explosion blew out windows for 10 blocks in every direction, and flattened the block closest to ground zero.

As night closed on the Barrettan tank column, Nikolae Geoana and his crew propped themselves up against their tank and prepared for a long night. They knew from experience that the slaves preferred to use the cover of night to shield their operations. Nikolae had appealed to his superiors for night-vision equipment, but he had been denied. So as everyone else settled down for a short night's sleep, the sentries plodded off to their positions.
A few hours later, one of Nikolae's crew, awakened by nature's call, walked out into the woods. He stood facing a bush, and started to empty himself. He was just thinking to himself that he might finally have a decent sleep when all of a sudden, a stream of curses flew from the bush, and RPG shot past him and into a nearby BMP, and he found himself staring down the barrel of an AK-47. The man holding the weapon pulled the trigger, the firing pin clicked, and he knew no more.

Meanwhile, chaos was erupting in the Barrettan camp. RPGs were crashing into vehicles, destroying many of the BMPs, but for the most part just scratching the paint on the more heavily-armored T-90s. The infantry that was supposed to protect the tanks from an ambush just like this were milling around in confusion, only a few had dropped into firing positions and had started to shoot back at the slaves. Nikolae was startled by the attack, but quickly recovered, and hopped into his tank with what was left of his crew. The turret of his T-90 swiveled and quickly targeted a rebel RPG crew in the nearby brush. A HE shell was loaded, and Nikolae yelled, "Shoot!" The shell came tearing out of the muzzle of the cannon, and the RPG team was annihilated. He then popped the hatch of his tank and began to cut loose with the mounted .50 caliber machine gun. As he swung the gun around, he viewed the perfect picture of pandemonium. Barrettan soldiers were shooting at eachother as much as the enemy, anti-tank rockets were whipping back and forth, hitting trees, tanks, and men alike, and trucks and APCs were burning brightly all around. Nickolae cut ten to fifteen rebels to ribbons before he realized that the enemy had retreated into the darkness. "Get me a damage report," he yelled "and find out how many of those bastards we killed."

When the final reports came in, close to morning, Nikolae was so furious that he tore the paper to shreds, and had to be restrained from hitting the messenger. Out of 300 men, 20 tanks, 40 BMPs, and 60 trucks, he had lost 48 men, 1 tank with another missing a tread, 7 BMPs and 18 trucks. Enemy casualties could not be discerned. The slaves had removed as many casualties as they could, leaving only 7 dead behind. These kinds of losses could not be sustained. Barretta would soon collapse under pressure like this.

"They cannot win using guerrilas alone, eventually the Barraten military will crush them"

"I have failed to see such a result and the Barretan Army has been trying to suppress the slaves for days."

The ministers continued to bicker over whether or not the slave guerilla movement could succeed, Hart let his eyes lazily glide over to the corner, where an unusually queit Richard Manmph sat. The Minister of Foreign Affairs had been arguing passionately over the last few days that the Federal Republic had more important things to deal with, why he was being so quiet eluded the Chancellor.

Turning his eyes back to the Ministers of the Navy and Army he noticed a messenger in an Army uniform standing queitly at the door, his Army aide, Lieutenant Koska.

"Yes, Lieutenant, what is it?" Hart said above the din, and the two ministers suddenly quieted down at the unexpected words of the Chancellor.

The Lieutenant took a tentative step in, not without reason, it had barely been two months since the Army Minister Yonami had tried to blackmail him into convincing Hart that the Champion Project was vital. Looking back at the unmasked hatred on Yonami's face, Hart could hardly blame the young man for the slight stumble in his gait. He let a small sigh escape his lips, complacent buearacracy had overtaken the Republic, how he longed for the days of his childhood when his father had held this same position. Back then, with an upstart Imperial Tortuga, and an ever embroiled Canadian Principality both near the coasts of the Republic, these kind of troubles would never be allowed, but now.....

By now the Lieutenant had reached the relative safety of the Chancellor's side, conveniently on the side of the table opposite Yonami, but Hart wouldn't put it past Yonami to charge across the table, his temper was widely known and the topic of Senate humor. He looked up at the Lieutenant, "Yes?"

"Admiral Cartwright reports that the monitoring ship Meneleaus has signalled Port Royal that Barretan news and intelligence sources point that the Barretan Army may have suffered a string of catastrophic attacks including military ambushes and a large explosion in their capitol city."

Hart nodded queitly, Yonami jumped at this point to push his idea of intervention, putting aside his dislike of Koska for a moment to return to pushing his ideas. The words of course flowed around Hart, it was the same arguments repeated back and forth, crisis after crisis, he doubted anyone remembered how to issue orders for military action anymore.

"Perhap Minister Yonami is right, the Republic has always aided those seeking liberation in the past, no matter how bad their crimes are these people can not be expected to go into bondage against their will to work for others."

Even before the Foreign Minister was done speaking Hart could sense the surprise of the entire room that he had broken his silence, and in support of Yonami's approach no less. He noticed the Naval minister shrink in his seat now, it was a widely held belief that if the Foreign Minister spoke on a subject, that was the same course the President would take, and Hart had to admit that more often than not it seemed true. And if the President said it was so, without the backing of the Chancellor or Supreme Justice there was little hope of stopping something. But looking at the Foreign Affairs Minister now, Hart could see the strain on his face, barely noticeable but there, and the quiet reluctance his posture let away.

"Minister Manmph, we in the Senate have always observed you to be a wise and cautious advisor, and it is no secret you hold the President's ear, and have a better understanding of foreign affairs then anyone present, but is it truly your belief that we should intervene on behalf of the slaves, or is it simply what would be prudent for the Republic?" Hart finished, he would adjourn this meeting shortly, there was little else to be gained.

Studying Manmph he could notice the strain grow, Manmph quickly trying to cover it up as deep intellectual thought. For a moment he held that gaze into no where, seemingly deep in his thought, but Hart who had known Manmph for many years, could spot the act across the room, the slight strain on his temples betrayed that Manmph was in fact thinking of something personal... and odd time for him to be considering personal matters.

Sternly nodded after several seconds, he finally spoke up.

"Sir Chancellor, I believe this is both the right thing to do and the most prudent, the Republic can not sit back in splendid isolation anymore and pretend the world does not exist, just becuase the Canadians and Tortugans are no longer threats does not mean we are immune to ripples in our pond. Our fathers were not afraid to aid those in need, and neither should we."

Hart let the moment sit for awhile, saw the Naval Minister's body crumple in it's seat, the argument was beyond lost.

"Very well, this meeting is adjourned, tommorow I will meet with the President to discuss the situation over with him, thank you all for your input, I don't doubt you all await a similar meeting with the President, good afternoon gentlemen." With that Hart stood up, barely remembering his aide Lt. Koska was in his way, and barely avoiding an embarrasing collision, he made his way out of the room.

Once in the doorway he stopped, Koska following him came to a halt beside him, both men gazing at the Foreign Minister. Something was not right with him, try as he might to cover up his concerns, his unusually long delay at leaving the table indicated a measure of regret. Hart darted his eyes around at the various other ministers leaving, then turned to Koska. His aide no longer held the nervous posture he had moments before around Yonami, in fact he no longer held the humble posture of an aid to a Chancellor.

"Was that to your satisfaction"

Koska shot a sardonic glance at Hart. "Quick thinking with delaying Cartwrights' message, it would have been a bit odd for your aide to be at your side the entire meeting"

"At least you picked the right time to enter, though you missed an hour of harangues from every side on the issue."

"If I ever feel left out, I'll just tune in the news, the same thing except all day."

"So, what did you think?"

Koska looked back at the Foreign Minister, who's back now faced them, he was leaving, no doubt to talk with the President before his meeting with the other ministers.

"Something is not right with him."

For a minute Hart just looked at Koska, surely that was not it.

"Some brilliant tactician you are, I deduced that myself, hell, Yonami could've guessed it if he had invested any interest in it."

Koska shot his eyes back at Hart, a flicker of annoyance darting through them, a flicker Hart noted, that had been there far too often. But Koska was far too controlled to let it control him.

"He's been spending a lot of time checking his messages at the Executive Building, he goes down there every hour or so, while most in that building only check in every week or so."

"And?" Hart asked, surely Koska was worth his title.

"What? You think I broke several Federal laws and risked court martial to check his fan mail?

Hart held his gaze, surely Koska had.... Hart looked at the eyes again, expectation, he was also tiring of Koska's games.

"Did you pose as a postman or the receptionist?"

Koska seemed to regard him for a second, disappointed Hart had not fell into his game, at the same time a respect that Hart had been paying close enough attention, and for a breif second, Hart suspected, a flicker of threat.

"Neither," Koska said at last. "I mailed you a package that conveniently got sent to the Executive Building and not the Senate, when I presented my case to the receptionist she was very understanding, went and got the package. Of course, since it had been marked to be sent back to the Post Office, it had not been scanned, so she called the guard over to check it out before she could release it. I told her there was another package that was attached to it, she went in back to search, with both distracted I casually dumped his mail record from the Executive computer to the Senate Records."

"You what! If he catches on and checks that is going to..."

"Relax" Koska interjected. "It was deposited in the mialbox of A.A. Stephens, a janitor in the Great Hall."

"And one I haven't heard of."

"Very good, he doesn't exist, if they track it, and I know Capitol Security, they will believe he was a insurgent from Padmasa or Czechingrad or any other nation, and just increase their security and re-organize it, which after how easily I did this, it really needs to be."

Hart let the silence sit for a moment, Koska had taken far too many risks, if Capitol Security was more clever then Koska thought. Hart brushed the ideas away, nothing could be done about it, but he would be watching Koska closer from now on.

Koska spoke into the silence.

"Well, as I said, I have secured his mail, and it's nothing but the regular requests for audiences and so forth. Whatever he is getting it is in code in seemingly innocent letters or he is using another account."

"You realize that would implicate more people in this problem then we would like?"

"You brought me in to seep out the mole you believe is in the Council, now we may finally have a lead that is not coldand your worrying about people's loyalties, it's a bit beyond that I think."

Hart glared at Koska, that remark had been made with far too much contempt.

"Fine, follow him, track him, hell interregate him for all I care, but tread carefully, this mole has Security on edge, and if you act too brash they may believe it is you."

Hart did not wait for Koska to respond, he walked away, feeling the Lieutenant's gaze on his back. It was far too late to be second-guessing things....


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

Two Days later the first merchant ships set sail from Port Royal and Formosa boudn for Berrata, they contained munitions and arms, the beginning of material to be sent to the slaves in the North to maintain their freedom, and not the end of it.

The Barrettan High Council met the next day, minus one member. Commerce Minister Franz Neff had been killed by a rebel assassin right outside of his office, and the surrounding area had been leveled. Poloce were still trying to figure out who killed him, and where they came from. Security was extremely tight at this meeting, with armed guards standing outside the conference room doors, and patrols sweeping the building constantly to look for suspicious activity.

"We need help, and that is the bottom line," said Ivan Vorsten, Minister of Justice. "There is no way that we can hold back the slaves for much longer. They have captured many weapons from our military, and we suspect there is foreign aid coming in disguised as regular merchant shipping. We must call on our allies."
"We cannot show our weakness like that," replied Defense Minister Dmitri Mann. "If we make a general call for allies, the rebels will know that now is the time to strike. Even now I am forced to admit that if they were to attack in force now, the capital would fall within a week." Eyes widened, and many of the the council gasped.
"Then we must call for help now," said the Minister of Labor Vladimir Scholz. "This is no time to worry about whether or not the slaves will discern our plight. I call for a vote now, to decide for an appeal for military aid from our allies."
The vote was taken. The Minister of Labor's proposition passed, but barely. Of the nine ministers present, only five agreed with Vladimir, the rest abstained or agreed witht the Defense Minister.

That same hour, a message went out from Barretta, appealing to its allies:
"Allies, friends and aquaintances of Barretta, we come to you in an hour of great need. Our rehabilitation program of life-long servitude has turned on us after so many peaceful years, and now it seeks to rip us apart. We beg of you, please come to our aid, for surely otherwise we will fall. We ask in the name of our alliances: Procco, Ravea, Gosselandia, McQuaide, Magdha, your help is needed now. We ask any nation who would help us, now is the time. Thank you."

(bump)