NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This takes place in Holy panooly/Guffingford's Earth. Comments and input are welcome.

Admiral Anders Berger stood in the headquarters of the Antigone class battleship; the fleet under his control was approximately ten kilometers away from Libyan soil. In a matter of minutes they would be in range of the city of Tobruk where they would begin their assault. Berger folded his arms across his chest, this would not be an overly difficult task, and the Libyans would be crushed by the superior technology of the Zarbians.

Zarbia was hungry for land again; they had plans to carve out an empire in North Africa, allowing for more access to the Mediterranean. After leaving the former colonies of Angola, Zambia, and Tanzania to an ally, the global territory controlled by Zarbia had been reduced to west Egypt.

Let's face it, thought Berger, Egypt is pretty shitty. If you're not near the coast, you're fucked.

The fleet was now almost five kilometers away; it was time to begin the aerial assault.

From one of the carriers accompanying the fleet came a squadron (12) of MMA-C1 Albatross bombers, heading straight for Tobruk. Accompanied by another squadron of MMA-A2 Hawks, they would target major military compounds and SAM sites. Tobruk was not as large as other coastal cities; there would be a small military presence and little to worry about. The bombers began their barrage of cruise missiles, reducing buildings to rubble.

Berger watched as his ship came within one kilometer of the Libyan mainland, now the fleet would add to the attack. The battleships and destroyers opened up with cruise missiles, the projectiles screaming towards Tobruk. The Zarbians had been ordered to minimize civilian casualties; military structures had been mainly targeted.

Now the transport boats were being loaded up, Zarbian troops would storm the beach and take the city. Resistance had been virtually non-existent; the city appeared to completely lack any aerial or naval support.

Admiral Berger smiled, Tobruk had been easy and Zarbian forces from Egypt would establish a camp here before the fleet headed to Benghazi. Libya would soon be under Zarbian control.

Lieutenant Boris Brodin advanced past the destroyed house, an AN-94 in his arms. After the conquering of Tobruk, the Zarbians had launched an offensive against the city of Benghazi. A brief bombing had knocked out large sectors of the military presence and a deployment of troops had followed. Coming ashore in small transport boats, Brodin and his regiment had charged onto the beach, killing the resistance meeting them at the city limits.

The attack had strengthened the will of the Libyans, they were fighting like cornered animals. Already five Zarbians had been killed while three were wounded.

Brodin fired his assault rifle at a group of soldiers taking cover behind a car. He quickly moved into the doorway of a bombed out home, two soldiers joined him, both firing their weapons at the Libyans. One of the soldiers took up a grenade in his hand, pulled the pin out, and threw it at the car. One of the enemy realized what had happened and tried to get away but it was too late, the grenade exploded in the middle of the men.

The lieutenant craned his neck around the doorway to look at where the Libyans had been. Positive that they had been dealt with he rushed towards the vehicle, staying low.

The remaining soldiers would be dealt with soon enough, Brodin expected Benghazi to fall before the day was done.

Brodin grunted as the medics pulled the bullet out of his arm and quickly bandaged it. He had been hit by a local policeman in the last hour of the attack on the city. The Libyans had put up a good fight but in the end they had surrendered to the invading Zarbians. The loss of life had not been very large but it was certainly enough to end the battle.

A group of twenty Libyans were seated on the ground, their arms and legs bound while their mouths were gagged. They would be kept here in a POW camp and perhaps later executed as an example to rebellious locals.

Colonel Victor Ivanovich sat on a wide step jutting out of a tall building. He was going over plans for the next attack in Libya. So far two cities had been taken easily and with few casualties. He smiled as two soldiers waved a Zarbian flag and planted it into the earth.

Victory was near...

You have four and twenty hours to cease hostilities against the soveriegn nation of Libya or the armed forces of the glourious state of Momanguise will intervine in an act of warfare against said nation of Zarbia. Halt this madness, lest your soldiers perish on the field of battle, for our wrath shall be terrible.

Madam Calymath,
Chair of the Privy Council,
Gaurdian of the Peace,
Warden of Momanguise.

We wonder why it is so difficult for Momanguise to stay out of affairs that do not concern them. Nothing will stop Zarbia from building her North African empire, the might of our armed forces will stop all those that try.

-The Junta

Admiral Berger was nervous but at the same time his stomach panged with excitement. It was time to test the newly purchased weapons; Tripoli would be the proving ground. Tripoli, compared to other Libyan cities, had a larger military presence and would fight back.

The massive battleship plowed its way through the rough seawater, coming closer and closer to the capital city. Berger was immediately reminded of the earlier assault on Tobruk as his fleet came within mere kilometers of the land. Two squadrons of Albatross bombers and Hawk fighters left their carrier, streaking towards the city to engage the resistance. Any enemy aircraft were taken care of while the bombers tore up airfields, halting any further conflict in the skies.

From a second carrier, two more squadrons of Hawks took off and followed their brothers to Tripoli. There was something different about these fighters however. These Hawks were armed with VX tipped missiles, a biochemical nightmare.

New orders received this morning commanded the taking of Tripoli by any means necessary. Berger planned to obey these orders, no matter what the cost.

The final assault began now, one squadron started firing the MLAM missiles, the chemical warheads would wreak death among the Libyans below. As the missiles came into contact with solid objects, they would explode and unleash the nerve gas within.

Berger wiped his brow with a handkerchief. It was not pretty, but someone had to do it.

-SID 8 Headquarters: Schultaria Prime, Schultaria Prime

Looking at a holovideo of the Zarbian campaign, Central Director Schultz was obviously not pleased with the situation before him; while a constellation of Schultarian Kehmnar observation satellites were making passes over Libya, dozens of SID agents scrambled to pull up character profiles and tactical situation reports streaming in from Zarbia. Even though successes in trying to decipher Zarbian transmissions through brute force was more difficult than expected, the image data already collected was evidence enough for the wary head of state. "Tell me," replied Schultz, sighing as the painful footage continued to be streamed throughout the room, "in your best analysis, what does the SID think of this current move from Zarbia if anything at all."

"At the present time Mr. Director," one female intelligence director noted, "our information is less than precise, but we do believe that this is not a final step by Zarbia."

"Understandable," nodded Elliot as he prepared a cup of coffee for himself. It had been painful enough for him to ask for a declaration of war against the "universal opposition in Tanzania" as the press had put it so bluntly. Even though the casualties on the Schultarian side were infinitely small compared to the majority of Schultaria Prime's closest alliance members, specifically Schultaria's direct allies of Vastiva and Nova Hope, they were large enough to shock the population into caution. This caution had hurt Elliot's approval ratings; while not buy much, it was still enough for him to consider alternatives when the resources were available. However, Zarbia's naked aggression had killed any hope of a diplomatic settlement well before the world had a chance to react. Polishing off his cup he inquired frankly, "Well, what's the current threat condition of Zarbia to the safety and security of Schultarian development?"

"In the Nations proper of Islandia Schultaria and Schultaria Prime, the threat level has been raised from threat level 3 to level 4; as for our development presence in Tanzania, the level has been raised from 7 to 9. Zarbia's acknowledgement of possessing bio-toxic weaponry and their willingness to use such devices, as seen from the footage in Tripoli, demonstrates to us that Schultaria should be on its guard."

"Thank you and I'll take that into consideration with my fellow directors..."

-----

OOC: A long TAG and possible post of involvement; given that our nation sees this imperialism as unwarranted and unsubstantiated, Schultaria might become involved more directly if they see it as a staging point for an extended central African campaign.

Colonel Pyetrov walked through a narrow street in Tripoli, him and his men equipped with gas masks and AN-94's. No resistance had been left alive in this section of the city, bodies lay on the ground; gassed to death. This was the last major battle planned for Libya, the president as well as the prime minister had been targeted in the attack, they were assumed dead. Special plans were being prepared for Colonel al-Qaddafi, a grand execution would be in order.

The city would have to be decontaminated and cleared of the dead before it could be properly used. The first step in the North African Campaign had been completed with minimal casualties on the Zarbian side. Reinforcements from west Egypt would be poured into Libya and a main base set up in Benghazi for the present time.

General Niel Franz stepped off of the ship and onto the dock in the city of Benghazi. Waiting for him was a personal guard of twelve soldiers, armed with assault rifles. As the general approached the men, they saluted him and their leader greeted Franz warmly.

"Welcome to Libya, sir. Your trip went well?"

"Quite well." replied Franz as he observed his surroundings. Most of the buildings on this side of town were heavily damaged by Zarbian bombing. Rebuilding would not begin for another two weeks and so the troops here would have to get used to it.

The general began to move towards the black vehicle that would take him to his estate. Supposedly the home had belonged to Colonel al-Qaddafi, the leader of the revolution. Though the colonel had mainly stayed in his compound in Tripoli, this building had been kept in case of emergencies. As Franz walked, the soldiers followed him.

"As you may have heard sir, our men have already begun decontaminating Tripoli, they say that it will be completely ready in about a year." piped the young captain.

Franz nodded, "A long wait, but in the end it will be worth it. Thank you, soldier." He shook the captain's hand and climbed into the car.

The young soldier watched as the general and his motorcade faded into the distance, heading towards the new estate.

BUMP.

The year is in NS time, so by about Monday Tripoli will be decontaminated. :)