NationStates Jolt Archive

Incident at High Sea!

21-10-2005, 23:24
Due West of the North Isle of Sands, Gnufasurian Controlled Sea

"Turn about! Gnufasur does not want you. There are no jobs for you in Gnufasur!" A voice boomed over the external PA system onboard a Gnufasurian Naval Gunboat, the Golden Sabre.

Off to it's starboard was a rickety and very makeshift boat, overloaded with immagrants and/or refugees, perhaps of a Spanish or Cuban decent, but at this range without binoculars, it was difficult to tell. Regardless of race, they were people not welcomed nor wanted in Gnufasur.

"Turn about! Once you reach Gnufasurian soil, you will be deported back to your home country with no exceptions! Gnufasur does not want you." The voice repeated.

It seemed that either the people on the boat didn't understand English, or were too dertermined to give up on trying to reach Gnufasur. It did make one think that whatever they were fleeing must be very great.

Normally, this was a job for the INS, but the Gunboat was engaged in routine patrol missions around the Isles of Sands when it encountered by chance, the refugee boat. The captain took it upon himself to try and dissuede the people from trying to land on Gnufasur. He had already called in for support from INS, but they were hours from arriving.

Frowning, the captain put down the mike and turned to his XO. "Drec ec kaddehk ic hu frana..." He spoke in Gnufasurian.

"Drao'na sygehk hu suja du cdub, un dinh ynuiht. Un yhodrehk
..." The Neko officer noted, jotting down a log of everything that's happening.

"Hmphm... Suja ic cu dryd fa'na padfaah dras yht dra Isles of Sands." The captain finally ordered, the helmsman following his order and manuevering the gunboat into a position between the refugees and the nearest Isle of Sands.

On the deck, the few Marines onboard lined the starboard side, rifles at the ready but not aimed at the boat yet. They were there to stop any of the people inside the boat from boarding the ship. The Gunboat sputtered to a stop, and time passed. First a minute, then two, until finally the refugee boat rammed into the side of the Gunboat. It was the eqivulent of a gnat ramming a Mac Truck.

But, for Private First Class Thirston, undoubtedly the unluckist Marine to have ever graduated from Boot Camp, that little bump was enough to send him stumbling backwards off his feet. His finger tightened on the trigger of his rifle as he fell backwards, and a single shot rang out.

At the sound of the shot, the whole line of marines dropped into a crouch, and out of the corner of his eye, one Marine saw Thirston falling. His mind put one and one together, and came up with five. "Drao crud Thirston! Nadinh vena! Nadinh vena!" He called.

Rising up, the Marines opened fire on the refugee boat, a single Marine Corpman moving to grab Thirston and drag him away, while two more exhanged their rifles to operate a pair of rail mounted .50 Caliber Machine guns. The refugees didn't stand a chance.

The sounds of gunfire reached the Captain, and he shot to his feet, cursing. "Fru'c cruudehk?! Layca vena! Layca vena Kuttacc tyshed!" He spat out that before realizing to switch on the PA System. "Layca vena! Layca vena!" He boomed. But, it was too late. The damage had been done.


From the wreckage of the boat, the crew of the Golden Sabre managed to pull up only three survivors. The twenty-odd other refugees were dead. A small funeral was had for the victims, while the survivors were givien what medical treatment the Gunboat could spare.

"... Drao'mm ryja so rayt vun drec..." The Captain said, more to himself then anyone currently in the bridge...

The Gunboat began to turn about, heading for the nearest Gnufasurian Naval dock. Here, the Captain would give his report and most likely be dismissed, and the Refugees would be identified and deported back to wherever they had come from...

((OOC: Just putting it out there... I wonder how people will react? >_>;; Hopefully not too badly... >_< ))