NationStates Jolt Archive

-Skies of North Iraq, Command Plane 003. 3ed battlegroup Moile HQ-

"All Units go, go go!"

On a screen, small green squares slowed down and stopped, with several small red circles running out of it. The Green suqares then began to move, heading back wence the came. More green squares moved ino to replace them, landing in a perimeter set up by the little red circles to release more little red circles. General Gregorio grinned. The Squares were, of course, ospreys, and the circles were the men of the 3ed Battlegroup.

::Hostiles, north side::

::Roger that. Green bird, green bird, requesting fire support, over!::

A few ospreys veered from their course, and picking up speed, began to fly passes north of the Imperial Guards parameter.

::Go go go!::

::Bastards!::

::Im hit, im hit!::

::Green birds, ge the hell out of there! They got Stingers!::

A green square vanished.

::DAMN! Nail those fuckers now!::

::Fox batallion, circle, circle!::

::Hold it! Wait for it!::

::NOW!::

:: Move, move move!::

::Push 'em back!::

::They got a machine gun up here! Bring it down!::

::The right flank, the ri...::

About 4 or 5 red circles disappeared.

::TANKS!::

::FUCK! Requesting Reinforcements!::

Blue triangles came onto the screen, each with an ID tag. Typhoons.

::Yea, that got 'em!::

::We got a few comming up here on the south side!::

::Everyone with smoke grenades, throw them into the center! We need to keep landing our boys!::

::Green Birds, do proceed with landing. Fire support while landing would be appreciated!::

Green squares re-entered the picture, again landing in the center, then taking off. ID tags on the ospreys indicated that they were losing ammo, indicating that the machine gunners on either side were firing at the Sistani attacks.

General Gregorio was handed an infa-red satilite image from his satilite communications officer. It showed two large red blurs, with a third congregating south of the southern blur.

"Boys, it looks like we are sandwiched between 2 regements of Sistani infantry with some motorized elements. What looks like a militia is congregating further south. Intentions unknown."

::Roger that commander. Please keep us advised!::

::Help! Full scale assult on southern end!::

::It ain' no picknick up here!::

::West and East, fold in to help us!::

::Affirmitive!::

::Where are our medics?::

::Where is our support! We are getting shot at every time we try to land!::

::Damn! All units, make a push!::

The oldiers of the 3ed made a push both north and South. General Gregorio could tell that they were taking casuilties from the red-circles that stopped moving. ID tags then popped up confirming either injury or death.

::Landing zone secure. Greenn Birds, get the fuck down here!::

::Roger that...::

::Sir! The Southern group seems to be running!::

::Hold your positions. Take shots at them when possible, but do not pursue!::

::Roger that sir!::

-On the ground-

The men of the 3ed batattlion were crouched behind rocks, trees, and mounds of dirt and sand. The Northern group was having it bad, a multitude of gunfire comming from behind a hill just north of their position, while soldiers on the south side idly waited.

"3ed and 4th platoons, on the move! Hit the north end now! 1st and 2nd Platoons, spread out and cover this south side!"

"Yes sir!"
About half of the men got up and zig-zaged to the northern side, taking up positions to return fire to the Sistanis.


"God be praised! The Imperial resistance Movement sees action once more!"

A single figure called out as he emerged from the darkness holding a white flag. Accross his face was a dark scarf, masking his identity, and on his side was a GSR36-A1. The old (and former, although the Empire still has production rights) Assault Rifle of the Empire. An officer on the southern stood up and slowly made his way to the man, stoping when he came to him face-to face. Then the two men clasped arms, and laughed. A surge of men came out of the darknedd behind them, all similarily armed. Soldiers on the southern end of the landing zone stood up and rushed forward to meet their unexpected allies.

::Whats going on down there!?::

A soldier pulled out a radio. "A miracle sir. A miracle."

-To be Continued-

ooc: Kopparsbergs, I plan on having a division attack Sistani elements in N. Syria while the rest of the army heads south for the rest of Iraq and Kuwait. Joint op in Syria?

OOC: I finally found this thread...
I'm really busy right now, but I'll post IC here as soon as I find the time (a couple of days). This is mostly a *tag*.

Mario adjusted the white scarf wrapped around his head. He was by far the tannest officer in his division, and had been selected for that reason. He followed Azab and a few of his men through the markets of Bhagdad. Their robes tugged at their wearers as they walked as quickly as possible against a strong wind. Azab grabbed MArio by his shirt and draged him into an ally, and then into a building.

Several dirty men were gathered around a map, with Old looking AK-47's and the other weird looking weapon his COs were really excited about for some reason. The men spun reached for the weapons, but stopped when Azab removed his headscarf.

"Liason Mario, follow me."

Mario took off his head scarf too, and the men stood tall around him, watching him and his entourage pass. Azab led him down a hall, and took a sharp right. There before them, was an exceptionally old looking heavy wood door. It bore the Imperial Coat of Arms. Azab knocked.

"Come in..."

Azab stood asaide and looked at Mario. He guestered for the door.

"He is waiting..."

Mario took in a deep breath and opened the door, marching in. He glanced around, and immediately recognized the building structure. This was an Intel Center. But the computers lay long dormant around the room, and the central Command podium was instead occupied by an old man behind an even older desk. The man smiled. It was then that it hit Mario. He was wearing a General's Uniform. An old and raggard Uniform at that, but a uniform all the same. He labourously lifted himself out of his seat and saluted.

"I am General Matahotra, General of the 41st Moroccian and 23ed Iraqi Divisions, Now long since defunct! I now command the last armed forces if VIneyardian Resistance in Iraq.

Mario gaped. This guy had to be about 90!

The old man colalpsed back into his chair and sighed.

"Lets get to buisness then."


-Mosul, Iraq-

"GO, GO, GO!" A officer hollared waving his sword forawrd as the Italian Infantrymen rushed towards the shattered enemy. A terrific artillary barrage had just shattered their lines of defence, and the enemy was running.

A man was curled around a radio set next to a building.

::Artillary fire re designate to coordinates 55-10-66A.::

::Roger that.::

Suddenly a spray of fire erupted from building on both sides of the street. Italian Infantry were cut down in swaths, and the officer's arm was shot off. The soldiers behind the initial charge immediately kicked in doors on either side and bolted into the buildings. Soldiers behind those pinned down the Sistani soldiers firing from the windows.

In the meantime, a Sistani batallion-sized force ran through their fellow routing soldiers. The man in the center, obviously some sort of Holy Man, held up the Koran as his radicals rushed forward to meet the Imperial Regulars. 300 yards down, a Vineyardian Infantryman stopped in his tracks, and whipped out a scope, attaching it to his gun. He peered through the scope, flicked on the rifle-action mode, and adjusted his gun's settings. He looked through the scope again. The Vineyardians had the enemy engaged ina fierce firefight, ducking behind mailboxes, pillars, buildings, and cars. The soldier smiled as he lined up the cleric. Fool, as if his silly book could save him. He squezed the trigger, and a single shot went through the cleric's head. The soldier quickly put his gun back on automatic, took the scope off and stashed it away, rejoining the fray.

-Command Center, 2 miles outside Mosul-

"Sir, the troops report stiff resistance, mostly from radicals. The Sistani irregulars have already been broken, so its up to the blind radicals to defend the city."

The General looked up. "Very well, have Commander Moleto's troops move in. Notify the incomming Eurofighters of the Situation, and order them to attack gun emplacements and baracades."

"Aye sir."

"Oh, and one last thing. Get the tanks off Artillary duty and have them 'pack up' with the Infantry and enter the city. Regular Artillary will be finished setting up in a few moments."

"Aye sir!"

General Gregorio grinned as the officer left. Iraq qas being reconquered at last. He signed an order to have 2 companies join ALM in Saudi Arabia. Regent Windsor had ordered him to send a few men to recover the lost bases ASAP, and Gregorio obeyed his command to the letter. Those compaines wuld fly out that very same day, on board as many ospreys as they needed. He looked at a recent report from Mario. This was unbelievable. A resistance movement still had supplies, arms, and munitions in Iraq. On top of that, it retained about 1,300 troops. He could seize Bhagdad before the VIneyardian Regulars could even get within sight of the city!

-Syrian-Iraqi Border-

The 9th Italian Infantry under Lt. General Eustorgio was packed onto Ospreys and were flying to North Syria. There they planned to join the reportedly over-stretched Kopparbergian troops to finish the reclaimation of Syria. He wired a short request ahead, asking for orders from the Commander of the Kopparsbergian forces. he was, after all, now under their temporary command.

(ooc: 9th Infantry has 20840 Fighting men by the way.)

-3ed Battlegroup Command HQ-

4 damn years. General Gregorio looked up to his table. Accross the table the enemy commander sat, looking tired, gruby, and worn. To his left was a representitive of the Allied Vineyardian Resistance Movement--a counter sistani rebellion. The man saw General Gregorio glancing at him and gave a big thumbs up.

It was all over.

The Enemy commander picked up a pen and signed his name. A soldier then came behind him, and slapped a hand on his shoulder. Pulling out a pistol, he shot him in the head.

General Gregorio signed. Such a nice table too.

The document was given th himself and the resistance representitive, and they both signed it.

The war was over.

And it was about damn time. The only area the Sistanis controlled were parts of Bhagdad's slums. Pathetic really. They had been bottled up in that area for a year, ever since they lost the battle for Iraq, fought in the ourskirts of Bhagdad itself. It was particularily bloody: 400 Vineyardians killed, 800 wounded. But about 5,000 sistanis ahd died, mostly from air strikes, Artillary, and armor, which they did not have. General Gregorio regarded that is their greatest mistake in the war. An attempt to stand toe-to-toe with the Empire.

He waved a hand at a beautiful secretary, singling to her to send out the message: The war was over. Without their central leader, the Sistanis were lsot. That, and they had to surrender according to the pact signed by their commander, before 'his pistol accidentially went off as he was celebrating'.


-Bhagdad-

"Hit the earth!"

An interesting band of Soldiers in Combat garb and men wearing losely fitting robes hit the dirt, brandishing this assorted weapons.

'ALLAH ACKBAH!"

"ALLLAH!"

The sand storm swirrled all around them. The soldiers peered into the storm to see their advisary.

The leading officer of the group presed the brim of his helment into the sand and covered his ears as a transmission came in.

::Commander, Sat comm has detected a large body of troops in front of your position, and they seem to be oncomming::

::Roger that, holding position.::

::Negitive, Retreat and fall back.::

::Negitive.::

::...What!?::

::Negitive sir. I do not command this party. Imperial Resistance is with my patrol.::

::...roger...::

The Lt. Clicked his helmet radio off as a soldier tapped his back.

"INCOMMING!"

A group of men in civilian and old Sistani garb charged out of the swirling sand, firing wildly.

The Vineyardians opened fire initially, but the enemy kept comming. The Regulars got to their feet, and locked the Sistani infantry in hand-to-hand combat. The Resistance members then rushed in with swords, knives, and with their weapons, swinging them around like madmen.


-In the skies-

::Bird 01, this is Command::

::Go ahead command::

::A regiment of Sistani irregulars have attacked one of our partols along with a motly collection of Imperial Resistance. Request assistance.::

::You got it.::

::Sending coordinates now.::

The flight leader glanced at a screen depicting his location and the locations of his flightmen along with Vneyardian Ground positions. A red circle in Bhagdad lit up and began to blink.

::Moving in::
The pilot flicked the comm frequiency with Command and switched to his flight's frequency.

::..oally agree. We should have this damn city mopped up within the...:: Whoever was talking was suddenly interrupted by the commander.

::Alrighty men. Patrol under attack, we need to take the enemy out. Fall in on me::

He pitched his Typhoon fighter to the left, and the rest of his flight followed suit.

::Sir! Sand storm up ahead!::

::Roger that, but it appears to be moving on. Lets get behind this thing::

The TYphoons pitched up, and went to the right, soaring above the sand storm. QUickly flying over it, they dove back down behind it.

::Alrighty boys, turn it around.::

The flight took a left, going at a 180 degree angle. Below, the sand storm was lifting, and gunfire flashed in a city center below.

::Our boys are to the south! Lets ride!::

The TYphoons broke, and dove down. Rockets erupted from the fighters, smacking into the enemy regiment. the enemy quickly broke and began to flee. But other eurofighters quickly flew in and began to strafe them with more rockets.

::ALL UNITS! The enemy has just surrended! Cease hostilities!::

The flight commander grinned. Good.

He swooped back down and launched additional rockets at the last remenants of the long regiment. Sure, there were a lot more Sistanis--former sistani's out there, but the less there were to see peace, the better.

After cleaning up the regiment, they swiftly departed. Command later that day asked why hostilities had not been ceased in that scetor after the surrender was signed, but they quickly lost interest in persuing the matter.

[ooc: a quick and simple critique - Sistan had stationed a large force along the Saudi-Iraqi border - somewhere in the neighborhood of 300,000 to 400,000 troops. I'm not debating the fighting skill of your troops, but there is an unlikely situation where 300,000 troops would lose 5,000 and their senior commander surrender {unless of course, he was stupid - which might not be far off the story...}. The jist of this critique - Sistan losses need to be significantly higher.

Of course, if the surrender is just the general's surrender, and more lies ahead, forget this. But just remember that when doing future posts.]

[ooc: a quick and simple critique - Sistan had stationed a large force along the Saudi-Iraqi border - somewhere in the neighborhood of 300,000 to 400,000 troops. I'm not debating the fighting skill of your troops, but there is an unlikely situation where 300,000 troops would lose 5,000 and their senior commander surrender {unless of course, he was stupid - which might not be far off the story...}. The jist of this critique - Sistan losses need to be significantly higher.

Of course, if the surrender is just the general's surrender, and more lies ahead, forget this. But just remember that when doing future posts.]

ooc: My men have been on the ground for 4 years (4 weeks). I am trying to finish it up. I just sorta scrapped that post together.

On that note, I will RP another couple years if you think 4 years is not enough.

Little did the dueling generals know of Rebel Leader Neima Azarin's 10,000 men, who dug tunnels underneath the battlefield, and chose this time to sift just a little above the ground. The enemy cannot see them. They take their sniper rifles, and make short work of those that surrond them.:sniper:

ooc: My men have been on the ground for 4 years (4 weeks). I am trying to finish it up. I just sorta scrapped that post together.

On that note, I will RP another couple years if you think 4 years is not enough.

[ooc: it's not the time - it's the number of dead/injured. Sistan had 300,000 people; not 30,000 - bluntly put, you need to kill more people :p]

Little did the dueling generals know of Rebel Leader Neima Azarin's 10,000 men, who dug tunnels underneath the battlefield, and chose this time to sift just a little above the ground. The enemy cannot see them. They take their sniper rifles, and make short work of those that surrond them.

Ever so bold and recognized as a viable attempt to gain entry into this RP, but:

--- This Thread is Closed to EARTH V Only ---

And don't tell me that it's not in the title, because it's right here:
Iraq, Kuwait, and Syria: The Reclaimation. (Earth V, ATTN: Kopparsbergs!)

--- This Thread is Closed to EARTH V Only ---

And don't tell me that it's not in the title, because it's right here:

OCC: [Enter Sarcasm]What's Earth V? :rolleyes: And what title do you speak of? I saw no title. :rolleyes: :D[End Sarcasm]

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OCC: So as not to waste a post here's a little IC response.

IC: As acting Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Iberia, José Sócrates was indeed keeping busy. First, it was reported that their was a plot out to kill the king. How, when and where were still unknown, but for sure the word was out. In response to that, the King and his family along with his close personal assistants had been flown out of the country to an unknown location and without informing the public.

Meanwhile, reports were coming out of the Middle East that finally after over 4 years the last remnants of the Sistan Empire were coming to end. José did not shed a tear for it's demise as it's time had long passed. However, it would seem again that the people of the Middle East would not know the true taste of Freedom with their country trading one Empire for another. Would Democracy ever get a chance in the Middle East or was it doomed to spend eternity in the pits of hell? For, now these concerns were not of the Kingdom and to an extent the Republic. However, even José knew that one day in all likelihood the problems of the Middle East one again rise in the fires of war and consume the world as it had done under the Sistan Empire. A day he hoped was far off long after he was dead and buried.