NationStates Jolt Archive

HMS Ardent

Major General Lord Nigel Clifton stood at razor sharp attention on the bridge of the massive assault ship HMS Ardent, which was the base of operations for the first colony of the Commonwealth in former Jacksonton territory. Clifton came from English royalty that had resettled on the subtropical islands. Upon independence, the Clifton family had remained behind in New Britain and became some of the first members of the former House of Lords. After the First Russian Revolt, the House of Lords was abolished, which left the Clifton estate with mere land grants, and no official role in government. However, a sense of duty to the state pushed Clifton’s more immediate ancestors into the Royal Navy and Royal Marines. And that was a tradition that Clifton continued to serve proudly.

At 6’2” Clifton was physically imposing, he was physically fit due to his young age of 35 – which was in and of itself an abnormality given his heritage, though he had proven quite capable of command. His blond hair and bright blue eyes belayed the cold and unforgiving commander he could be during times of war, yet they fit perfectly with his warm and loving domestic matter at home with his wife and children. Educated at the Philadelphia Royal Marine Academy, he had graduated with top marks at an accelerated pace. And so after several conflicts involving the civil unrest of the past decade, Clifton had risen quickly to the point where he now stood to be the senior military commander in the soon-to-be-organized Verdant Archipelago Territories.

His assignment had come from the information provided by the government of Jacksonton regarding the native vegetation, which was considered quite dangerous by Jacksontonians. According to estimates provided by the intelligence officials with the Ministry of Defence, the Jacksontonians underestimated the strength and resilience of these creatures, but even so, Clifton had still ordered heavy munitions in order to clear the initial landing sites. That was because Clifton inherently distrusted the intelligence officials with the MoD, and tended to believe the locals, as they knew the lay of the land far better than anyone stuck thousands of kilometers away in the Commonwealth ever could. It was for that reason he had called for his two advisors dispatched by the viceroy of Jacksonton.

The three advisors stood behind the impeccable-looking Clifton. Dr. James Winston, much like Clifton, found himself riding high upon long legs – giving him an incomparable height compared to the remaining two. Winston was the botanist onboard, accompanying the mission to identify and provide expert advice on the various types of flora likely to be encountered upon landing. Winston carried a long machete in addition to broad smile and scarred face; of course the smile hid the disdain all three held for what they saw as the rather arrogant approach by the Commonwealth at attempting to subdue species that had remained independent and dominant for nearly one and a half centuries.

Dr. Charles Carstairs was tiny in comparison to the two men, being rather small. Clifton had noticed the man’s shy behaviour, as if intimidated by the sheer difference in sizes of the rest of the party. However, he also doubted it could be traced to something as inane and artificial; he left the trait instead to some sort of systemic problem in Carstairs’ character. Although he did attempt to make up for it by wielding, along with Winston, a large machete.

Lastly, Clifton had the company of a similar man, another member of the armed services, though he was from Jacksonton and not the Commonwealth. This was Lieutenant Anuj Whitehall, one of the Ghurkas garrisoned in Jacksonton, the most formal of Jacksonton’s fighting forces. He too was tall and carried a machete. In the hold was Winston’s other weapon, a very nice elephant gun that the ship’s captain had forbidden let out of the cargo hold. Consequently, Clifton was storing it in his officer for the gentleman, hoping that such nice favours would eventually be returned.

It had taken some time, but finally the large transport aircraft, which had taken off from stopovers at RAF McKenzie, located a few thousand kilometers out from the Verdant Archipelago Territories, and refueled in flight were nearing their targets. Clifton’s arm moved from behind his back to a small phone that ran direct to the flight control deck. “Flight, this is Ground. ETA on Jungle Boogie Flight?”

“ETA: five minutes.”

Clifton expressed his thanks and then moved away from the board and found another phone, this time to his close-air-support units onboard the HMS Victory, which while out of immediate combat range, had maintained a close enough proximity to dump aircraft munitions upon the landing site. “Jungle Fever, this is Jungle leader actual. Launch first wave.”

On the ship-long flight deck, sections of the hangar deck rose above on elevators, bring forward the Raptor fighters. Relatively small, the Raptors were designed for dog-fighting and CAS bombing roles. They featured forward swept wings and smaller canards. With the thrust vectoring nozzles on the engines, and tilt-able exhaust vents, the Raptor was a full functional V/STOL fighter with a combat radius of several hundred kilometers, giving plenty of time to launch all their munitions.

Clifton looked at the large LCD without moving his head, watching the blips converge, then separate as the cargo aircraft took the lead. The Ardent was anchored several hundred meters off the largest island in a large, deep harbour that would serve excellent for shipping and for basing. Unfortunately it was filled with a rather deadly jellyfish that had claimed the life of one Marine who went overboard by accident attempting to retrieve a basketball. With that and the tenuous situation on the land, Clifton wanted precautions – and rather large ones he was about to show to his advisors.

“Gentlemen, if you’ll look off to the starboard you’ll see in the distance four spots. These are the aircraft that will be carrying our deforestation weapons. Each plane will be carrying two 8,000 kg – or 17+ thousand pound – bombs that will effectively level entire sections of forests. These air-dropped explosives have a lethal-kill range of over 350 meters – or roughly 1200 feet – inside their much larger blast damage. This means that we will be dropping eight such weapons in a tight perimeter – we have estimated with your help that the lethal kill range will be the maximum extent of all damage and so we are dropping them in a tight perimeter to provide a large cleared field.

“Following these aircraft will be two fighter aircraft, which will drop fuel-air-explosives and smaller unguided rockets upon any flora that still remains. In effect, I am aiming to if not obliterate, then to char to death any living plant within the lethal kill range. After all the bombings are complete, you will accompany me and my men to the beach where we will establish a perimeter and establish the first colony of the Commonwealth. And so if you’ll turn your heads to port, you can watch as the bombing begins.

And as if on cue magnificently large explosions began to rock the inland shores of the island, throwing up their own large plumes of dirt, dust, and rock, all the while the ship rocked with each successive concussive blast that aimed to rip apart the above ground structure of all the plants. And as the dust settled the silent sound of a supersonic jet became audible, though it was soon drowned out by the large snap of the compression wave that accompanied the supersonic speeds and the built up pressure. The sky was lit in dancing flames of death that descended upon the target zone while small orange and red streak reached from under-wing pods carrying small unguided rockets, designed to hit an remaining plants – be them alive or in large accumulations of dead mass.

Clifton waited until the dust began to settle and then turned to face the three men. “Gentlemen, phase one of my plan has been engaged. Are you all ready to accompany me?” The men nodded their heads in agreement, and Clifton led them down to the waiting boats, where he picked up one of the older submachine guns still maintained in the ship’s armoury. He’d have preferred his new pulse rifle, but they reportedly would have a substantial less impact on these plants as compared to any human foes, but nonetheless, he turned back for his rifle at the last moment. He now felt more complete.

The landing craft were all air-cushioned and so they sped along the distance between the Ardent and the shoreline, where they raced onto the beach and opened their gates. Several dozen men were already assembled, poking and prodding at the dead wood. Clifton motioned for his advisors to make their way over to a small tent that was being setup. “Gentlemen, this will be our base camp for the next few days. Supplies and provisions are around, and I suggest we get to work before the sun sets. So now that we’ve cleared this area, what’s next?”

Lieutenant Whitehall winced as he stepped gingerly through the wreckage of the bombsite. There were men picking through the dead vegetation. With their bare hands! “Sir, I strongly suggest you give orders for your troops not to touch any of the plants directly. Many are corrosive. Others have extremely fast-setting sap that can glue you to them. A very few can deploy a rather potent nerve-toxin… And that is not to mention any animals that might have been disturbed by the explosions.”

“The lad’s right,” replied Carstairs as he chewed on a massive cigar he pulled out of his back pocket. “T’isn’t a lady’s social, your boys could get badly hurt if they continue like this, eh James?”

The enormous man guffawed. “Too damn right. I noticed you’re people staring at my face and hands. I’m extremely lucky to be only marked this much, considering the bloody stupid risks I took when I was a boy, and even I wouldn’t sift through dead vegetation like this. Got to burn it. All of it, or as much as you can. Also, break out the axes and shovels, or blasting charges if you have them, and start digging a perimeter trench. Most of this island seems to be covered in Mesh Vine, and it has a communal root system, like grass. Which means that even though you’ve thoroughly blasted it, it’s still alive beneath the ground. If, however, you manage to cut it off entirely from the rest of the root system, it will die. Eventually. It takes quite a while, and during that time, you’ll need to deal with it spouting up in the oddest places. Now… OY! YOU LOT! COME HAVE A LOOK AT THIS! Good. Now, I’m going to demonstrate why you don’t just go picking bits of plant up. You see this branch? Give me your bayonet lad. Thanks. Now, watch as I cut into it… the sap flows out immediately, engulfing the blade, and then it sets. Like mortar, but much faster. If you accidently broke one of these branches with your hand, you’d have the stick stuck to you until you got a medic to cut it off for you. The resin doesn’t actually come off, ever. It will fall off as your skin dies. Here’s your knife back son. Sorry about that. Now… here is lesson two. You see this cactus looking thing here that survived the blast? I’m going to tap the far side of it with this stick…” phutphutphutphutphutphutphut “and watch as it sprays that area with spines. If you were there, you’d ‘ave been turned into a pincushion, wouldn’t you. It’s even better than that, because these spines are poisonous. Now, since this is a little fellow, they won’t actually kill you, but they’ll make you swell like a balloon. I know, it’s happened to me. So now you know… don’t play with the bloody plants!”

“Serioiusly sir,” piped up Anuj, “You simply must burn as much as you can. These plants that were pointed out are very common and you will suffer many casualties if you continue like this.”

* * *

The jungle was shocked. Well, not really shocked, since it wasn’t sentient. But it did notice the damage that had been done. The automatic repair initiatives had already been started… damaged bits of the vines secreted resin to seal the damage. Critically damaged root systems were intentionally cut off and left to die. New growth started beneath the pile of shredded vegetation, even as ravious microbes began digging into the feast that had been left for them. The jungle began slowly extending vines into the newly empty area. It knew that the empty area would be high in nutrients… well it didn’t know that, but the subroutines stated that it must investigate any damaged areas for new resources and potential threats. With any luck, the threats would become resources given enough time

Clifton merely nodded at the suggestions of his advisors. Ultimately, it was on his shoulders that the mission go off without a hitch – or at least the big noticeable kind – to show the Jacksontonians that the Commonwealth was quite adept at learning and adapting to new situations. He knew some of his junior officers were not thrilled about foreigners giving out orders – he could see it on the faces some of his aides gathered round the command post. With his legs remaining perfectly still, he turned to face his chief of staff. “Artie, relay the orders from our guests to the commanders and all the men. I have no desire to lose men so early into this reclamation project.”

Clifton stood in silence as several privates dropped their rifles for flamethrowers, which they turned upon the fallen plant material. Further off in the distance a heavy-duty bulldozer had begun tearing a giant ditch into the ground in an effort to cut off the root structure of the cleared base from the forest. Although he kept his eyes on his men, he could at times swear that he saw something move out in the depths of the forest. On second thought, he probably had given all the information the botanist had provided him; but, still, the concept of trees killing people was difficult to digest.

Finally, he turned to his companions. “Gentlemen, for now I take it that we have it reasonably under control, especially given our new attentions to the matters you have pointed out. That being the case, I’d like to extend the offer to join me for my afternoon tea back at the water’s edge. I’m having some supplies shipped ashore, and some light foodstuffs are fortunately among them.”

Clifton indeed smiled at this small comfort from home. Back in the academies, he had never allowed himself the traditional vices of alcohol or drugs – for both the ramifications on his mind and body and the fear of the weekly tests. Instead, he had settled upon tea, which was originally his family’s main profession. To this day, his younger brother William maintained a tea plantation on one of the few rural islands in the Commonwealth. And while of English descent, he had grown quite fond of the Oriental variations of green tea, which made sense to Clifton given the proximity of mainland Asia to the Commonwealth.

Clifton led the man back to the sands where small clear blue waves lapped against the soft sand. “Gentlemen, relish these pristine though deadly waters of yours. With the industrialization, and then post-industrialization due to come your way in the coming decades, well… your environment will suffer.” Clifton bent down and picked up a clump of wet sand. “Unfortunately for my nation, we learned that lesson the hard way.” Clifton turned to face the men, placing the sand back in its hole, and then stood. He walked them over to the small table and chairs setup with a fire burning in a container, over which hung a pot of water.

“You see, gentlemen, the Commonwealth of Azazia is a mighty and powerful state. There are… well I think fourteen or fifteen republics as it now stands, not to mention the dependencies and the colonies. We’re fortunate enough to promote free-trade between all these territories – and as you may or may not know, free-trade allows for easier transference of capital, and thus economic development. In addition, with the powerful Royal Navy,” upon mentioning he pointed out to the assault ship and frigates at anchor in the harbour, “we have the ability to secure our trade routes and insure the transference of commodities and services across great oceans. Although a member of the Royal Marines, I make no bones about it, the Royal Navy is the most important asset of the Commonwealth. If it falters, the whole empire could fall. Fortunately, we’ve never been in more than a few large wars. Back at the inception of the Commonwealth we entered into far too many humanitarian missions. I remember rumours of conflicts against nations like Iraqstan, Dragon’s Bay, and even AMF. Not that these will ring any bells to you, but they are powerful states now, and at times we had to send our fledgling ships into help the people. Of course, we lost some ships and some good men. And then our revolutions.”

Clifton fell silent for a moment, in reflection, as he offered his wooden case of specialty teas – all of the more expensive range – before pouring the boiling water into their cups. Upon placing back the pot he regained his composure. “We lost a great deal in those revolutions. Granted, they were for the better. The Russians and the Azazians now have equal rights and contribute much to our society; however, many records were lost among lives and cities. We have few records if any of those conflicts. But they helped solidify the importance of our Royal Navy, and our nation’s dependence on it and the free-trade it safeguards. And now that such free-trade has come to Jacksonton, in a relatively short amount of time your city will become a prosperous center of trade, and as a Royal Dependency one of the jewels in the crown. Then, once you’re ready, you’ll become fully independent as a powerful economically secure state.”

“Of course, I hope our two states are still on good terms at that point in time.” Clifton reflected on several of the recent struggles to earn colonies and new royal territories, they had been paid for by blood – and he hoped he would have to spill no blood here against these people. For despite their quirks, he found them quite pleasant. “But seriously, gentlemen, go ahead, I’ve provided sandwiches and tea. You haven’t been isolated long enough to forget about afternoon tea, have you?” Clifton enjoyed his little joke, and continued to speak while the men ate.

“In the end, however, we aim for this site here to be the jewel in the crown, permanently. A mighty city will be built here, with glass towers reaching high into the sky mixing with the low clouds. This strait that separates our two islands will be even closer than it is now in the near future. I foresee a day, gentlemen, when on this shore stands one tower, on yours another, and the towers will be identical in design, sweeping out over the waters as if connecting the two islands physically. For in the future, our two nations will become closely aligned, at least… I hope they do.”

Clifton finally noticed that he had been musing on thoughts for his guest, not really giving them time to talk – although their mouths were full with food. He smiled as he thought of what to say next, “But then again, I’m just a Royal Marine. What do I know?”

Lieutenant Whitehall swallowed some Earl Grey. “I certainly hope you are right sir… there are enough things to fight without us turning on our allies. And the wonders of which you speak… the towers of glass… I hope to see them someday. I hope to travel to your cities, see other nations. To fly… I can not even imagine being able to take to the sky like a dragonfly or a wasp…”

At the word ‘wasp’, Dr. Carstairs sat up sharply. Lord Clifton began to respond to Whitehall’s comment, but Carstairs briskly shushed him. In the shocked silence, a low pitched, irregular hum could be heard. All of a sudden, an angular black creature shot out of the jungle and flew straight for the pot of honey sitting next to Clifton. Winston lashed out with a powerful backhand, knocking the animal away from the Azazian. It paused, stunned for a moment, and Lord Clifton realized it was a black wasp, as long as his forearm, and with a 5cm long stinger. It arced it’s stinger under it’s belly towards him, and darted at his face. Clifton and the guards were still grappling for their sidearms when there was a loud ‘bang’, and the wasp fell, writhing to the ground, it’s head a ruin of black ichor and it’s wings shredded.. Carstairs calmly placed his smoking double-barreled sawed-off shotgun on the table. The small man walked over to the insect, pinned it under his foot, and decapitated it with a single blow from his machete. Without saying a word, he sat back down at the table, reloaded his shotgun, and resumed sipping tea.

***

The bulldozer stalled. Again. Swearing under their breath, the two infantrymen riding in the back jumped off, ready to chip hardened resin out of the treads with their bayonets. Again. But this time it wasn’t resin. A swarm of ants covered a segment of track, and they were striping the treads and carrying the metal and rubber back into a hole. Already, they had chewed completely through one link, and were starting to nibble on the dozer blades, ripping off chunks the size of small ballbearings

Landing Site Alpha
Lidle Island, Royal Crown Colony of the Verdant Archipelago

Private Talmadge grimaced, the sergeant would not be happy about losing treads so quickly. He had been ready to brush them off before his partner, Private Julio Anzarez, reminded him of the nasty attitude these pests presented. The briefings by the three Jacksontonians had illuminated the fact that the ants – as demonstrated by their methodical removal of metal and rubber from the tread – could, and would eat a living person. And so Talmadge instead used his hand to pull the radio from his pack.

“Sergeant, we’ve encountered some of those bloody ants. Request flamethrower ASAP.”

***

Clifton, ever the consummate professional, smiled and thanked Carstairs for his quick action while not betraying any surprise or concern as if he knew that the problem would have arisen and been solved. “You’ll have to forgive me; it’s always a bloody nuisance attempting to remove one’s sidearm from the sitting position.” That said, Clifton resumed his afternoon tea. In the distance, undistinguished by the dining quartet, the sound of a bulldozer engine ceasing could be heard. Finally, the group did look over at the sound of a large flamethrower going off, burning the ants off of the bulldozer. The four continued to watch as a brief, but high tongue of flame leapt into the air several meters. “I apologize for the distraction; they must have found one of those ant colonies. Per your suggestions, high-temperature burn of the entire tunnel system is commenced whenever we find such colonies.”

The men continued to dine, talking about the futures of their two peoples, while in the distance the bulldozers continued to plow large ditches and sever the root systems of the native flora in an attempt to halt their growth and development. As the night began to fall, a few other ‘events’ occurred, with the only casualty being a soldier patrolling the edge of the ditch slipping and falling in, breaking his leg. Unfortunately, such accidents were doomed to happen in any overseas deployment. When the sun fell, Clifton and the men returned to the launch they had arrived on the site in, and made way back to the Ardent.

Slowly, the bow of the launch sliced through the moonlit waters, which in the familiar juztaposition of the moonlighting one side of the swells and shadowing the other created the feeling of unease in Clifton, and he presumed the other men. For the launch was without any sort of equipment whatsoever to detect the species of water creatures that had become a nuisance to the Commonwealth shipping, and so it made its way quickly and quietly until it reached the Ardent several meters off the coast. Although Clifton was a Royal Marine, and a major general at that, he felt safer on the massive floating vessel than on the dark, poorly lit site of the future capital of the Verdant Archipelago Royal Crown Colony. But as Clifton fell into a deep, peaceful sleep visions of a tropical paradise port, replete with palm-lined docks and busy touristy-merchant avenues appeared in his head. In the center of it all stood a statue of Major General Lord Nigel Clifton, the man who tamed the jungle.

Night fell, and the jungle awoke.

The vengeance it would take on the Azazians was far in excess of anything that had happened to Jacksonton… but Jacksonians had never inflicted such damage in a single day before.

First to die were two privates on patrol, well inside the established perimeter. They was operating under the impression that all the vegetation they were stomping through was dead, reasonable given the bombing, burning, and bulldozing, but plants had sent out exploratory tendrils under cover of twilight. One of the privates stepped on a tendril, and it wrapped around his foot. Thinking he had merely caught it on a branch, he pulled roughly on it, breaking the tendril. The plant in the jungle reacted instantly, spraying the area with high velocity spines. The two privates were well away from the plant, of course, so they had lost most of their velocity by the time they reached the soldiers, and only a few hit, rattling off armour. But one penetrated the first soldier’s armour under the armpit, while the other suffered two hits in the neck. They impatently brushed the needles off, and, before they could report in, began asphyxiating from the toxin in the needles. As they grappled franticly with their radios, trying to speak through throats that were clenched tightly shut. As they fell to their knees, in agony, the vines began to gather about their feet.

HMS Ardent
Off the Coast of Lidle Island, Royal Crown Colony of the Verdant Archipelago

With the rise of the sun to the east came a series of quick knocks on a metal door, locked in place from the inside. Clifton rose slowly, having found himself in a deep dreamless sleep. He threw on his robe and opened the door, still quite disheveled. He found a lieutenant commander, sharply dressed with a folder in hand – Clifton’s morning briefing from the Royal Navy. “Come in, come in.”

The naval officer made his way to the small table in the room and placed his documents flat in an arch an easier reading when Clifton sat down. Before that, of course, Clifton walked over to the small microwave in his room and placed inside a cup of water and set it on HIGH for two minutes. “So what do you have for me today, Commander Vasilovich?”

“Situation reports from Landing Site Alpha as well as the news in this section of the Commonwealth. If you’ll look at the first page for you on the table, furthest to the left, you’ll see that progress is currently behind schedule, and that we need to step up the process of colonization. Additionally, your officers have informed me that two privates were found dead from what preliminary autopsies are calling poison-induced asphyxiation. Another private is missing and presumed dead, his shotgun was found near an anthill at the edge of the jungle. Two bulldozers and one excavator have been severely damaged in the days work – not irreplaceable, but their treads and wheels have been damaged and will take a few days to bring back online. The first stages of heavy equipment offloads have been completed. Diesel generators as well as automated defence mechanisms and their accompanying automated weapon systems are also online, powered by the generators. Several tents were erected overnight and the first settlement is officially up and running, inhabited by several engineers and a squad of your Royal Marines.”

Lieutenant Commander Vasilovich paused as the microwave beeped, signaling Clifton that his water was hot. The two men walked over towards the small kitchenette and Clifton gestured to the refrigerator. “Would you care for something to drink, Commander? Make yourself at home.”

Vasilovich nodded and opened the small white fridge and pulled out a bottled water. “Do you mind, sir?”

“No, go ahead.’ Clifton opened a box of tea with its pre-made packets of green tea from islands in the Commonwealth. “But, do continue, news from the region was I believe the next item on the agenda.”

“Yes, indeed, sir. The HMS Victory is due to be rotated home in the coming weeks to be replaced by the HMS Bellerophon, another light carrier. However, she will be dispatched with a squadron of small littoral water patrol boats that will begin patrolling the waters here. In addition, several independent contractors will be arriving in the coming weeks on escorted vessels that will be delivering large excavation and construction equipment. This means the maritime traffic in the area near Jacksonton and Landing Site Alpha will increase measurably and so due to the possible stirring of native maritime creatures, all men are being advised to stay out of the waters if at all possible. In other military news, Parliament authorized funding to update the military bases in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, Port Blair is to receive a substantial subsidy to deepen her harbour and fortify her positions as the main port of embarkation for ships sailing to Landing Site Alpha and other ports in the Verdant Archipelago. Should you meet with your counterparts today, Parliament has amended its schedule and will begin debating the amount and price of sending textbooks and other education equipment to Jacksonton by the end of the week, with a likely vote coming late the following week or early the week after. Prime Minister Tetley has also made known his wish to make a state visit to the city of Jacksonton and to Landing Site Alpha.”

At that Clifton stopped. State visits were almost unheard of in the Commonwealth. Especially since the policy of isolationism, although the fact he was present in the Indian Ocean was evidence of a shift away from such policies. Nonetheless, there would be much to do before a state visit could be arranged. “Alright, Commander. That will do. Now if you’ll excuse me, there are some things I need to attend to.” First of which, he thought, would be a shower.