NationStates Jolt Archive

The first elements of the 4th Naval Invasion Fleet quietly left the Antartic Harbour. The fleet of slightly over one hundred ships carried a Marine Division and an Armoured Brigade, some twenty four thousand soldiers in total. Onboard the capital ship Death To Come Warlord Fredrik Jonnas watched as the strip of white land slowly disappeared across the horizon. The voyage would take some time, but acquiring this land was absolutely essential; or so the king deemed it to be. Intelligence of showed only minor military activity in the area, mostly light armoured infantry and some patrol craft. No match for the power of the 4th Naval Invasion Fleet which housed some three large carriers, battelships, cruisers, destroyers, and missile submarines. Still, one can never be too careful heading into an unfamiliar combat zone. In truth tweny four thousand Class A soldiers was a drastic overkill to the suspected eight hundred to one thousand two hundred enemy soldiers. The Warlord liked to play it safe; he didn't care that the extra seven brigades he asked for costed the empire billions more. What he cared about was absolite victory, no matter the costs.

"Current fleet formation is Fast Travel, warlord. The fleet is moving at twenty knots." spoke a familiar voice behind the warlord. "Commander Slventsky, order formation into standard, I want two submarines ahead of the fleet to search for any unwanted guests. Sea Kings are to be ready for deployment in a minute's notice. Understand?" For several seconds the warlord heard nothing, the commander obviously thinking of what the warlord had just said. Finally he said, "As you command warlord." The Warlord loosened his grip on his throwing axe, their would be plenty of blood to shed in the coming days. He better save his energy for later use.

As the sun rose in the early morning, the large cannons of the battleships, cruisers, and destroyers came into action. The volley of cannon fire continued into the late afternoon. Entire villages were now a smoldering rubble, and the once flourishing port town of Makush was now in total waste. Helicopters onboard the carriers began to assemble. Marines quickly boarded them and waited for the green light to launch the landing operation. Once the smoke had cleared the go ahead was given. Dozens of TH-44's and TH-21's transported over a brigade full of marines on shore. As the marines landed a defensive perimeter was immediately established to ensure the safetly of the landing zone. Once the brigade had finally landed a battalion was sent into the smoldering village to look for any rebels or survivors. The battalion split into four companies which approached the village from the South and Southwest. The village was quiet, houses had been torn apart by the bombardment, and the once large Town Center was a pile of steel and brick. Suddenly, breaking the silence, a loud scream filled the air. "Target 11 o'clock, got'em Briggs?" Sergeant Briggs jumped to a prone position and carefully aimed with his YM-09 Squad Assualt Rifle. "Yessir. Range is only one'fifty meters. Take down?" The company commmander glanced at the unknown fleeing figures. "Take'em." A large grin came across the sergeant's face as he gently placed his finger on the trigger.

A stream of well aimed automatic fired brought down five, and wounded the sixth. The sixth figure was limping towards a large rock. As the sergeant prepared to take the last figure down a single shot rang through the air. The limping figure's head exploded, and fell limp to the side. The sergeant, looking up, sees the company commander with his rifle up, smoke protruding from the barrel. "Make sure you take all of them down in one burst next time sarge." The sergeant nodded. "I want a fire team to investigate those people that were fleeing. The rest of you continue on with the patrol." The soldiers nodded and continued on their way. The town was cleared in an hour's time. Roughly two dozen civilians were gathered up and sent to the Field Command Center near the Landing Zone.

Baron Svendrik Oslenik sat at his desk, looking at several satellite photos detailing the terrain around their position. A young Captain walked into his tent. "Baron, the village has been cleared. We have taken two dozen civilians to our camp. We believe some could be possible rebels. Their were also some civilians who ran away from our patrol. They were shot." The Baron nodded and got up from his chair. He walked outside and was greeted by the civilians, most bleeding and wearing rags. He screamed loudly, "Are any of you militia?" He waited for a response, no one spoke up. He quickly went to his holster and grabbed his .50 Anaconda revolver, and aimed at the head of one of the women's. "I shall say again, are any of you militia?" Again no reponse. This time the Baron squeezed the trigger of his powerful revolver, sending bits of brain matter at the shocked civilians. He pointed his revolver at another woman. "Do I really need to repeat myself?" A tall man stood up from the crowd, "I was a militia scout. I was low of rank but I know pretty much the bases, personnel and tactics. Please don't hurt anymore of my people." The baron lowered his revolver. "Then you are of use to us." The Baron looks at a nearby soldier, "Secure them in a makeshit prison. If anyone escapes shoot them." The soldier nodded.

As the marines secured their position, heavier equipment was being landed on the beaches. Tanks, armoured personnel carriers, infantry combat vehicles, humvees, all terrain vehicles, everything need to ensure victory in the coming weeks.

With all but one brigade now onshore, everything was going smoothly. All key towns in the north, south, east and west had been taken, ensuring the safetly of the landing zone. Now the marines began pushing inland. A full brigade of marines spearheaded the attack, lead by Baron Oslenik. A marine armoured company was the center unit, while two mech. inf. units were on the flanks. The remaining companies were in the rear at standby. Captain Viktor Lopensi lead the 5th Marine Armoured Company, the lead company of the attack. He sat at his commander position on his ST-29 tank, studying the map he had been given. The weather had been good so far, making the advance go at a quicker pace. Suddenly the captain heard a report coming in from the scout patrol, "Scout, reporting to Horde. Meduim size town located NW. Seems to have been hit with air strikes, nothing major. No one is visible in the streets. Request orders." The Captain spoke into his radio, "Scout, Horde here. Hold position and report any news of importance. Make a tally of any vehicles, men, and armed militia you may see. Reinforcments inbound." The Captain switched his communication link to "All". "This is Captain Lopensi. 2nd Platoon detach from column and head NW, report any contacts. All continue advance."

Lieutenant Izlav returned the usual response to the captain, "Yes sir." He motioned for his platoon to move Northwest from the road with his hands. Looking down at his map he studies the terrain around the city. Flat plains, no mountains, no rivers, just flat land. After travelling ten minutes the smoke plumes from the town were visible. Several more minutes and the armoured platoon was now only a mile or two from town. They maintained their position on the main road. The town would of been able to populate some five thousand people, he guessed. As he entered the town he saw shops, bakeries, markets, homes, and several banks. Nothing seems suspicious. Perphaps the populace was evacuated, or they left on their own. He reported back to the Captain, "Horde, this is Black Thorn. Town seems deserted. We're right about in the center of town and haven't seen anything alive. Request orders." A response came promptly. "Disembark your marines and begin clearing each house one by one. Once cleared destroy them." The Lieutenant took a look around, "Yes si-" A loud bang ended the conversion.

The Lieutenant was shot in the head, his body crumpled inside his tank, blood landing on some of the crew. Speratic machine gun fire greeted any other tank commander who was not inside the tank, two fell as a result of this. By now the latches of the tanks, IFVs, and APCs were closed. Tank rounds and heavy machine gun rounds were launched right back at the unseen attackers. Some RPGs impacted on the tanks, but those did nothing to the tremendous armour the ST-29 possess. As more and more buildings were destroyed with rebels inside, the return fire was becoming less intense. An order was given from the commanding sergeant to disembark the marines to ensure that all are dead. The forty-four marines came running out from the rear of the APCs. They took cover in the ditches on the side of the road, returning precise rifle fire. The marines began inching their way foward, getting closer to the enemies position. One soldier was hit in the neck by a burst of rifle fire. He fell to the ground, grasping his neck. Blood gushing out, blinding the medic as he tried to stop the bleeding. Another marine was hit in his shoulder, wounding him. Despite several more losses the marines advanced under the enemies rifle and machine gun fire.

"Looks like we got us some action." said the scout sniper to his team. "Yeah, that Armoured Platoon the capt. sent over seems to be holding itself though. Don't think they should steal all the fun." spoke the spotter, who was looking through his spotting scope. "I'm up from any sort of target practice." said the support rifleman, holding his modified YM-14 rifle. "Then it's settled. But first we need to contact the Capt. and notify him of the situation." The sniper and the rifleman looked at the spotter. He sighed, "I guess I will." He got up from his position and walked deeper into the woods. The rifleman and sniper went into a prone position and began to carefully pick off target by target. Most were hiding by the windows. If you got the timing right you could hit one every time. The sniper looked through his scope closely and spoke, "Looks like we got a runner at 11 o'clock, leaving town. Must be high ranking target. Range is eight fif'o meters. I got him lined up for chest shot." The sniper followed his target carefully and squeezed off one round. "Got'em"

In town the marines were advancing quickly. Under the protection of squad machine gunnners the marines ran from building to building. Killing scores of militia. As one marine was clearing a room where a militia sniper was located his spotter came yelling out a closet, knife in hand. He stabbed the marine in the chest, and yanked out his knife as he saw that he was dead. A rifle burst hit the spotter in the leg and chest, making him fall and drop the knife. A marine grabbed the miltia by the ankle and dragged him outside. By now the battle was over. Only single shots can be heard, the sound of marines finishing off wounded militia. The marine let go of the militia in the middle of the street. A group of marines gathered. The marine took out his 6 inch standard issued knife. Slowly he cut through each of the militia's fingers, making sure the man felt the pain. He then slowly inched the knife through both of the man's shoulders, thighs, and finally cut across his gut, making his entrails land onto the ground. The man fell over and didn't move. During the rest of the day the marines set fire to the town, burning everything. In the end a tally of 150 militia was made. Seven marines were killed and twelve more wounded as a result of the battle.

The last remains of the militia had been pushed into the Northern territories. They now faced the border, with no where to go. Surrounding them on all four sides were five marine brigades. Continious artillery had been pounding at the militia's position from all sides. Helicopters and aircraft patrolled the skies, dropping tons of munitions upon the enemies position. Estimated fatalities for the militia was estimated at 15% to as high as 45%. A slow but steady advance on all four sides was underway by four battalions of marines. Machine gunners took up positions and rained down thousands of bullets towards the militia's position. Advanced riflemen dropped scores of militia with their scoped rifles, and helicopters from above released dozens of hell fire missiles. As the marines began to squeeze the militia's position into a tiny section of forest a strange thing happened. A militia member came walking towards the center line, holding a white flag. The militia soldiers had surrendered and accepted the terms of surrender. The remaining militia, some two hundred and fifty militia, were gathered up in trucks and taken to an open grassy field. The trucks stopped and told everyone they had a one minute bathroom break.

The men ran out towards the grass. As they did so two trucks in the rear unloaded twenty-four marines, each armed with fragmentation grenades and light machine guns. Dozens of grenades were thrown towards the prisoners, nearly half were killed before a shot was fired. As the men tried to run away a hail of gunfire rang out through the night. A helicopter watched from above, ensuring no one could escape the scene. As the last burst of gunfire was heard a man stepped out from a truck. It was Baron Oslenik. He spoke quietly to the nearby unit commander, "Well done sergeant. The marines have performed excellent during the entire campaign. Order the bodies to be burnt. Once that is accomplished I will give you further orders. Carry on." The man nodded and walked towards one of his soldiers. The Baron grabbed for his radio, "Warlord, this is Baron Oslenik. The territory is clear. The preparations for the fleet are already almost finished." A response came quickly, "Well done Baron. I shall advise the fleet to move now. By the time they arrive everything should be finished. Out."

At Antartica the massive fleet of over 2,000 ships slowly steamed out of the harbour. Dozens of submarines circle the fleet protecting it from all underwater threats, and carriers had atleast four aircraft on stand-by for launch. The purpose of this fleet was revealed to the media, the King had told everyone that a majority of the Yelmish fleet will be participating in Naval excercises in the Pacific. Their orders were to hug the South American coastline, maintaining in international waters, and then veering left once they near Central America. This news confused some of the more veteran news agencies, since it is well known that the Yelmish fleet practices naval exercises nearly on a weekly basis. Why would the government need one massive training session at the cost of billions. Whatever the reason, in the coming weeks the people would know the true mission of this fleet.