NationStates Jolt Archive

The military Jeep skidded to a halt at the end of a lonely looking pier, some kilometres north of Samka. Lieutenant Karlson was roughly shoved from the rear door of the vehicle onto the rough planks, stretching out into the sea.

Directly in front of her and her Naashan escort squatted an NA-4 Utility helicopter, painted in drab black. The cargo compartment door was pulled open from the inside, to reveal a row of five Clandonian seamen, all squatting on a side bench, all handcuffed, drenched and looking miserable.

The Cravan pilot was bundled into the chopper, where a crewman indicated the seat next to the Clandonians with the barrel of his revolver.

The NA-4 dragged itself airborne, the crewman slamming the door shut as the sea fell away below them.

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The island itself was shrouded in a fine sea mist, but as the helicopter circled and began it's landing, the facility came into view. Grey stone buildings, clustered along a drab tarmac road, wire fences, guard towers and searchlight posts surrounding them.

The NA-4 began its descent, and the island rose to meet them, rose to swallow up six more souls who might never be seen again.

Jenna looked out the side of the helicopter from her seat, her medium-length dark brown hair soaked in the mist and draped before her eyes. She had a look of disgust on her face, only supplemented by the fact she still couldn't really see that well from the pepper spray.

She hoped, though, that the GPS transmitter in her boot was still active. It would at least mean a faster rescue from this hellhole.

Remember your training, Jenna... Be a little bitch to them and make sure they don't get anything.

The five Clandonian sailors watched as the Cravan pilot was roughly pushed, very bad for a woman thought the officer to be handled in such a way. If he had'nt been flex cuffed he would of hit the Naashan guard and kicked the shit out of him. Well least they were now with an ally, he worried for his men though two of them were shaking and looked ready to crack. The other was a member of the SBS and taken the GPS transmitter, tough as boots in an escape he knew he could use him to good advantage....


High the in sky a Clandonian Corporation GPS satellite located the transmitter switching off the other stray beacons from the attack as many of the others had been accounted for. At once, the head of the Special Air Service was alerted with 22nd Squadron for possible rescue and message was sent to the Cravan Military regarding possible co-operation.

The guards guffawed as the woman was pushed out of the chopper, they dragged the Clandonians out too, using their numbers and various well-chosen threats to guide them all toward the cell blocks.

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They showed Jenna Karlson, the pilot to the first cell, a perfect two metre cube, with a narrow bunk at the back. No window, no light, only the hatch in the steel door provided a source of illumination.

"Enjoy your stay, I'm sure you'll fit in."

The guards were having their little jokes now, as each prisoner was secured in his own dark cell. Each one was unnervingly identical, cube shaped with a bunk at the back, completely clean, sterile in fact.

Designed to force the prisoner to think, to let their imagination take over, these cells were traditionally used for the first few days of capture, after which point the prisoner was transferred to the standard units, or to various 'correctional' cells throughout the complex.

Switching out the hall lights, the guards left them to stew for a few hours.

Well, Jenna. Let's make the best of this. So far it isn't that bad.

She twisted her hair and pulled it back, pushing it behind her ears and out of her eyes. Sitting down on the cot, she began to rub her eyes to try and get the residue from the pepper spray out.

Your father's an admiral... He'll get you out of this... Just keep your cool and... Don't go insane... Oh who am I kidding...? I'm already thinking in the third person.

She curled up on the bunk, and began to try to get some sleep. By this time her flight suit smelled disgusting, but she didn't care. All she cared right now was for her own sanity and survival.

They started with the cell on the left, that of the Clandonian officer. Switching on electric lights embedded in the ceiling, filling the cell with dazzling light, guards marched up and down outside the door, murmuring to each other, grinning with the sick pleasure of playing with his head.

Then one slammed the but of his rifle into the door with a reverberating crash. They all stopped, silence reigned, and then, after precisely four minutes, the light went back off.

Morning. Bright lights. Screeching sirens from all corners. Cell doors pulled open. Prisoners dragged out, kicked and abused by the sadistic guards.

All six were marched out onto the courtyard. Lined up against a whitewashed wall, which had ominous red stains on it.

Six Naashan soldiers, dressed in ornate Imperial black, bearing the Raven Cap of the Jade Guard. Rifles raised, standing opposite the prisoners.

One officer, black and purple livery. Approaches a Clandonian sailor at random.

"I guess you don't know what you fuckers did last night do you?"

Not waiting for an answer.

"Now, name, rank, number, ship."

'How bloody dare you treat an Officer of the Clandonian Navy in this way!' Shouted the officer. 'These are men, they only answer to me, not you pathetic little men!'



The sailours were terrified, the single special forces of the captured was eyeing up possible distractions if he could only get a rifle he could about 5 of the guards before they even had the chance to look round.

The officer swung away, turning to the captain of the riflemen.

"That mouthy one is a little too important, but you may make an example of one of the others."

A barked command and a rifle cracked, following by a sick crunching sound as one of the lesser-ranked seamen was executed.

"I hope, I shan't have to order that again?"

Lt. Karlson stood in line, her face lacking any emotion at all as she kept her lips shut tight. Her dark eyes showed much anger at being treated as she was, but she did not protest unless given something major to protest about. She knew very well that she may never see her homeland again, but she also knew she could give these bastards one hell of a headache while they tried to whittle her down. Considering her fairly small stature (compared, of course, to the men around her and other fighter pilots), she was not one to be discouraged easily. The night before she had managed to finally get a hold of herself, and used her own sense of humor to get through this crisis.

And once they find me I'll be off this rock and back home after this experience. And more than likely my father will have it leveled and not one of these dirty bastards will survive. He'll make sure of it.

She began to reflect upon what had happened so far, wondering if her squadronmates had fared better than she. She also thought back to her "savior" and how he had sold her out. She remembered every feature of his face and remembered the exact position of his home; things she would never forget. And if she ever got her sidearm back she had a bullet with his name on it.

At that moment, one of the Clandonians was executed. She remained emotionless, but she felt nothing but sorrow at the loss of one of her comrades in this hellhole. She only hoped he could find happiness beyond.

She also wondered if he was the lucky one...

The officers mouth dropped open, he saw the young recruit fall to the floor with a bright red pool appear.

'You people are bloody savages. I will see you all accountable for your illegal actions of war crimes against servicemen.'

"It's clear something will have to be done about this one."

The Naashan officer indicated his Clandonian counterpart.

"A gag will do for now, maybe we can arrange something more permanent after the interrogation."

Two soldiers stepped forward with a ball attached to the centre of a piece of rope. Covered by the riflemen, they shoved the plastic ball into the Clandonian's mouth, tying the rope in a secure knot behind his head.

The officer could have killed both men with his bare hands if he had wanted too, he feared for the safety of his men and also the Cravan female pilot who looked very scared.

"Now... you. Name, rank, number and vessel. Now!"

He picked another one at random.

'Chief Petty Officer Barlow, number 360472 of Clandonian Naval Ship Belgrana.'

The toughly built officer as a gunner, former marine and not scared of the little Naashians and their tough words.

"Much better, now, I take it you know that the Belgrana lies on the sea-bed, it's crew slain by the Ackistani pilots?"

The officer smiled wickedly.

"And, every other ship in the squadron too, some of them thanks to Naashan bombs. You missed all the fun of the second wave, the pilots had all the time in the world, since your pathetic AA defences went down. I imagine there's quite a few lifeboats on the sea-bed too."

'Yes but the fact you destroyed severn ships alongside our enemy means my nation is properly pointing a good position of its nuclear arsenal at you. The fact that many of my countrymen are dead means alot, they are proberly already bombing you now or at least preparing to slay thousands of you men, woman and children right down to the lizards!'

He breathed deeply, then exhaled. Then slapped the man full in the face.

"Take him to Cell G, I'll deal with him later."

Turning to the pilot he stated:

"I'm sure that Cravans are more intelligent than these... vermin. So I'll ask you once: What ships are sailing with the Cravan battlegroup in our waters? What are their crew complements? How are they armed?"

Her eyes kept ahead, she answered the man with a straight face. If she had not been trained to resist in interrogations she would probably have the largest smirk imaginable on her face.

"¿Las naves en mi grupo? No recuerdo exactamente cuántas naves de ayuda, pero allí son muchas. Por lo que el ojo puede ver en algunos casos. Sé que hay dos portadores allí llenados de los pilotos impacientes liberar Surdun de los embragues de sus males, incluyendo me. Oponiéndose su gente está prolongando solamente el inevitable."

She continued to stare and stand at attention as if she had done nothing wrong, knowing full well that, although these men may speak Castilian, she at least had a slight advantage for now.

((OOC Translation if you don't speak Spanish: The ships in my group? I don't remember exactly how many support ships, but there are many. As far as the eye can see in some cases. I do know there are two carriers there filled with pilots eager to free Surdun from the clutches of your evils, including myself. By resisting your people are only prolonging the inevitable.

Don't blame me for the grammar structure... My Spanish is rusty so I use AltaVista. =P))

He sighed and signalled to a guard, who raised his rifle.

"I asked you once, if you really want to screw with us..."

"And I gave you your answer.", she said in English. She finally broke the stare, making eye contact with the man. "I don't know what ships are there, I'm only a pilot. All pilots are under the command of the Air Force, so I couldn't tell you a frigate from a cruiser. There's maybe about twenty there including transports, which you probably already knew, so you can do the math."

Her dark eyes bored into the man icily, her gaze full of disgust towards him. If looks could kill the Naashan officer would probably already be in the morgue.

"An airforce officer then? So, you watched our Glorious pilots wreak havoc on your pitiful sortie... from a parachute. Some pilot you are."

"You glorious pilots? More like your dishonorable pilots, trying to shoot my comrades from their parachutes. Notice how quickly your pilots bugged out when our Phoenixes came in. The Phoenix is becoming outdated as it is, and the Viper is perhaps our oldest craft still in service. A minority, really.

"In any case I'm more of a pilot than most of your air force will ever be. Four confirmed kills at Al-Kahif and at least one yesterday. I am a certified ace. But all pilots make mistakes once in a while and learn to accept the consequences, no matter how good or bad. That happened to me yesterday, and look where I am now."

"Indeed, and with little hope of rescue it pleases me to inform you. Both Clandonia and Cravan withdrew last night, Clandonia has moved on to it's next little victim, and has stirred up quite the hornet's nest."

He grinned, the best way to break them was to crush the hopes of rescue.

Jenna merely smirked, knowing this to be false. Cravan not only had a strict "no man (or woman) left behind policy," but she had an ace up her sleeve. Little did the Naashans know that a certain Admiral James Karlson was the commanding officer of the Third, and she knew he was already looking for her. He treated all the pilots on the Navarra like his children, but his biological child came first no matter what the higher ups had to say.

And sure enough, high above the prison the Cravanian satellite network snapped away with their high power cameras at the facility, recording video and taking photographs at every hour of day and night. The Navarra's Imperial Guard team was on constant standby, waiting for the proper moment to strike.

Lieutenant Karlson looked up, and smiled at the sky. She knew the satellite wouldn't pick up her face, but she thought she might as well show her true saviors the courtesy.

Clandonian Satellite Inteligence Bunker Complex

A meeting room full of various represntives of the military with two Clandonian SAS commanders who were presenting the presenation on the current situation. The SAS commander stood up first with a slideshow remote control showing the various images on the projectors screen.

'The Raven island is just offshore, a HALO jump would mean we could take the facility quickly and effectively. We now know the Cravans have a pilot captured there as well, they are willing to provide naval support. The idea is to insert via air then either get picked up by helicopters or RIB.'

Airforce wing commander for special operations then stood up.

'Then the airforce will obliterate the island dropping a half tonne thermobarcial missile, the island will be incinerated. Now we have given them an ulimation of 48 hours to release the prisoners, if they don't we will begin prepartions for operations and a massive bombardment of their countrys infrastructure.'

An inteligence officer spoke while lighting up a cigar,

'We think we can foster regime change with enough strikes it will push the tyranical government over the edge. If not we will bombard the fuckers until they are no longer a threat to us or they surrender and stop aiding the Ackistanis.'

The meeting was over, no one would officially note this even occured due to the nature of the security involved.....

They finished with the prisoners for awhile, sending them back into the cells.

An odd tension was in the air, news travelled only very slowly to Raven Island, but there was definitely something afoot, as the large departure of Naval vessels indicated.

On an impulse, the Centre Commander called up Naashan Shore Command.

"In the event of an emergency, how long would it take for reinforcements to reach us?"

"At present, a little over an hour. However, with the importance of the prisoners, Terenga has ordered an Empress' Guard unit deployed to Samka, they'll be here within the hour."

"These prisoners really worth having the EG protection? I'm flattered, but relieved."

The Empress' Guard was the main Naashan special forces branch, unlike many other operational special forces they were trained to fight as large elements, as well as individual squads. As such, a deployment in Samka would consist of two elements:
Raven's who used special NA-5 and NA-3 helicopters for rapid insertion of small strike teams and Jade Guards who operated in larger numbers, relying on ground vehicles and boats for insertion and often used to retrieve stranded Raven teams.