NationStates Jolt Archive

PSV Shell Valencia
Black Gold Sea
2000 hrs

An unearthly mist enveloped the supply vessel, obscuring the ocean surrounding the Shell Valencia. All that could be heard was the pounding of the waves on the steel hull of the craft.

"Creepy, isn't it?" asked Vladimir, one of the crewmen.

"But of course," replied Estragon, another crewman.

"So...suited to tonight's events, wouldn't you agree?"

"I would indeed. Shall we?"

"We shall."

The pair cautiously drew two submachine guns from holsters concealed in their jackets. Adrenaline rushed through their veins, their heartbeats echoing in their ears.

Kicking down the doors to the bridge, Vladimir and Estragon sprayed the command crew with bullets, leaving only the captain standing.

"Oh my god, what have you bitches done?" he cried.

"Started a revolution," was the reply. The triggers were depressed once more.

Royal Dutch Shell Oil Platform
Black Gold Sea
2045 hrs

"Sir, the Shell Valencia has hailed us; they're on our starboard side, approaching rapidly."

"Thank Darwin - we ran out of food this morning. I'm ravenous. Hmm..."

"Yes, sir?"

"I hope they brought trout ice cream again."

"Trout...ice cream?"

"Yeah, it was on Iron Chef last night - crazy Japanese chefs."

PSV Shell Valencia
Black Gold Sea
2055 hrs

The supply vessel sped towards the oil platform, the waves trying to batter it back, the winds blowing violently. Notwithstanding that, the Shell Valencia was relentless, ramming right into the platform, combusting the Brobdingnagian quantity of petroleum embedded in the platform. Metal shards and corpses flew up in the air, splashing down into the tropical waters of the Black Gold Sea.

Kensington Palace
Kensington, Victoria
2130 hrs

The president laid in his bed, wife wrapped around him, contently sleeping away after a long day of press conferences and Parliamentary debate.

His Defence Minister, Elliot Crompton, skulked into the bedchamber stealthy, and whispered into the President's ear.

"Mr. President," he whispered, causing Sir Phillip to rise with a start.

"What is it?" Sir Phillip whispered back angrily. "It's two in the bloody morning!"

"We have a crisis in the Black Gold sea; follow me."

Sir President Phillip J. Sinclair rose from his violet-shrouded bed drowsily, cloaking himself in a robe, following the Minister for Defence, who took him into the High Command.

Crompton started to point at the large LCD display at the front of the room.

"Mr. President, as you can see, there has been a massive explosion in the Black Gold Sea. One of Royal Dutch Shell's oil platforms was rammed by a supply ship. And we had someone claim responsibility."

"Who?"

"Well, they call themselves the 'Red People's Army'. They've vowed to take down Eurasia and replace it with a socialist, Maoist utopia."

"Oh."

"Well, what do we do?"

"Find them. Hunt them down. And get some international help on this."

---

http://img110.imageshack.us/img110/3154/b099542e8a7142069cf926dxg8.jpg

Statement of the Government of the Britannic Commonwealth of Eurasia

Today is a grave day in our nation's history. Terrorists have killed one hundred and eighty nine innocent Eurasians when they destroyed an oil platorm in Black Gold Sea along with a supply vessel. This act of blatant terror will not be allowed. Our vengeance will be swift, it will be merciless, and it will be without compromise. Any nation that will assist us in killing these terrorists will have our eternal gratitude.


OOC: I'm looking for someone to RP the terrorists.

Bumpage.

http://img402.imageshack.us/img402/7044/chelseaglobebz9.png

Terror Strikes The High Seas

Panic, chaos, trepidation - these were the words that permeated the Victorian Sea as two hundred more individuals died at the hands of the mysterious Red People's Army, who two days ago assaulted an oil platform in the Black Gold Sea.

"This is another victory for the Red People's Army!" stated a masked man in a tape sent from the RPA. "The capitalist, libertarian swine shall kneel before the glory of our utopia."

The Eurasian government has refused to comment in detail regarding how they plan to fight this radical group.

"I can't reveal much detail at this time," stated a representative from the Ministry for Defence. "But all measures will be taken to crush the RPA. Fear not for your liberties, though. We have learnt from the mistakes of the past, the mistakes that let monsters such as James Swanner take control. We shall remember the words of Ben Franklin when we fight the RPA: 'Anyone who trades liberty for security deserves neither liberty nor security'."

Bumpage Mark II.

The Principality of Kurona

Kurona has no sympathy for your nation. While we don't condone terrorism, we certianly don't condone your international and national practices. Your nation is the worst sort, and we honestly don't care for your fate

http://img110.imageshack.us/img110/3154/b099542e8a7142069cf926dxg8.jpg

Statement of the Government of the Britannic Commonwealth of Eurasia

Kurona, let us assure you that the practices of the former governments are over, and that the current Eurasia is dedicated to freedom, liberty, and justice around the globe. Furthermore, the People's Red Army, the terrorist group responsible for these actions, intends to depose of the government, and they will be far more tyrannical than any Eurasian government has been.

OOC: I'll take the terrorists, if you'd like.

OOC: Go ahead. They're primarily focused in the south.

OOC: Apologies, but I'll have to pull out of this one. Maybe another time.

OOC: I'll take the terrorists if you like, could you give me a little more detail on their agenda and any targets they are likely to go after.

I could be the terrorist sponsers if you wouldnot mind.

Bump for BL's viewage.

OOC: The terrorists are Maoist rebels. They would most likely attack financial centres and the like. Agenda: the destruction of the capitalist system, encouraging a revolt against the libertarian regime.

OOC: I'll get right on it!

Raven Corps, I'd be glad to have a sponsor, if you can come up with a reason why a large corporation would be supporting a socialist terror group.

British Londinium, shall I handle the details, size, armament etc of the Red People's Army? Are there any limits/requests on your part?

OOC: I'm going to be pretty lenient regarding their equipment/numbers. They're going to primarily focused in the south - Westminster and Bexley. Their arms aren't going to be the most advanced, though. If your looking for sponsors, there is a radical fringe group within the Labour Party that is financing you. As for size, keep it moderate. There has to be alot of recruiting done.

A video placed on several prominent video sharing sites and posted to several leading Eurasian broadcasters.

A man dressed in a white cotton shirt and wearing a balaclava stands in front of a white wall, the scene is dimly lit but appears to be in a basement most likely. The man eyes the camera with contempt for a moment before beginning to speak.

"Our attacks in the Victorian and Black Gold Seas will not be our last, capitalist dogs! We will not stop until our goal is acheived, the Red People's Army of Eurasia will rise up and triumph over your oppressive regime!"

A muttered consensus from off camera can be heard briefly, before the masked man continues.

"These attacks have been a warning, a wake up call for your government, comply with our demands, or more of your 'innocents' will pay the price!"

Westminster, Eurasia - 1300 hours.

A nondescript car of domestic Eurasian design cruised through the midday traffic, it's sole occupant talking into a mobile phone. His eyes keep darting to his rear-view mirror, eyeing each vehicle behind him with uneasy suspicion.

"Yes, it's Rashad here, I have the first of the packages."

"Excellent, you are not being followed?"

"No."

"Deliver it to the self-storage unit on Hillway Drive, the key is with the owner, tell him you are a 'Messenger of the New Order'.

"I understand."

Clicking the phone shut, Rashad refocused his attention on the thickening traffic ahead, trying to ignore the ominous brown parcel in the passenger footwell.

Kensington Palace
0945 hrs

"Did you see the video on the internet?" asked Elliot Crompton, the Minister for Defence.

"Of course I did, you twit," the Prime Minister shot back, curtly. He anxiously straightened his tie. It was his response to stress, straightening his tie. "How could I not? Now, how valid do you think it is?"

"Quite, sir. It seems oddly realistic, and the video did display some information that has yet to be declassified."

"Damn it. Can we find out the geographic location of the computer that posted it?"

"Not really. We can limit it to the southern part of the southern island."

"Westminster and Bexley - it just gets worse. They're obscenely close to an air base then. I want the northern island sealed off by the Royal Navy and the Royal Air Force. The capital is to be subject to the most stringent security. All troops are to be on full alert."

"Yes, sir."

---

Excerpt of the Prime Minister's Speech Before Parliament, Broadcasted On Television and Radio

"...Ladies and gentlemen, these terrorists wish to undermine the foundation of our majestic society; they wish to wrest from us what we hold most dear. Fellow Members of Parliament, we will never surrender! We shall fight on the beaches, and on the hills, and in the streets, and in the fields. We shall not yield!..."

Woodland, Southern Eurasia - 1330 hours

"The package has been delivered to the storage point, Rashad is on his way back now."

"Excellent work, soon we will strike our next blow against the capitalists. Have you found a candidate?"

"Yes, sir, he's very young sir, but he says he can do it."

At a barked command from his sponsor, a young man entered the room, he looked about seventeen, and obviously scared witless as he faced the two senior figures. General Lucien Vetreux, obviously in charge, was the first to speak.

"His name?"

"Thomas, I believe" reported his aide, Samuel Banken.

"Comrade Thomas, are you prepared for what we ask of you?"

"Y-yes sir, I can do it, for the greater good!"

"Very well then. The device is located at a self-storage facility on Hillway Drive in Westminster. Rashad will pick you up and make sure that everything is prepared, but the glory will be all yours comrade!"

"I will do what it takes to free the country from the capitalist pigs!"

"Excellent, I believe that is Rashad's car approaching now, good luck, Comrade."

Westminster, Eurasia - 1423 hours

And so it was that Thomas, with the bulky weight of the bomb strapped around his chest, made his way past a group of tourists and toward the open doors of a long, sleek, express train. Rashad had stayed with him as long as possible, but now the realisation was setting in, and Thomas was questioning his cause.

He was still mentally debating his current course of action when he blundered past a pair of Eurasian travel police, stepping on one's toe as he walked past. Hunching his head lower into his hood, tears now beginning to roll down his face, the soon to be suicide bomber hurried toward the train, hoping the policemen hadn't noticed him.

Westminster, Eurasia
1415 hrs

Two constables from the Westminster Metropolitan Police stood at the Underground terminal, monitoring traffic.

"So, Bob, what do you think of those gas prices?"

"What about them, Jim?"

"They're high."

"I know! §30 a barrel, that's what the EBG said this morning."

"Fucking OPEC."

"We don't get our oil from OPEC."

"Oh, yeah."

"Don't be stupid, jackass."

"Shut up, asshole."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Suddenly, a man rushed past them, stepping on Jim's toe. It was odd - he was crying.

"Son of a bitch! That was my toe!"

"Calm down, asshole," replied Bob. "That guy sort of acted funny. Let me check if he's alright."

He ran after the hooded man.

"Sir, sir! Halt!" he shouted.

Thomas winced, knowing they were after him. He thrust one hand into his pocket, fingering the detonator switch for a moment before deciding against it. Wiping away his tears with the other hand, he turned around and tried to force some semblance of normality onto his face.

"I'm really sorry officer, I wasn't watching where I was going, it won't happen again."

He stood awkwardly, aware of a crimson flush entering his cheeks even as he spoke.

"Not a problem, sir. Is everything alright? You seem quite distraught..."

"I...I...have to catch that train."

Even as he spoke, Thomas was aware of how strange he sounded, but his body seemed paralysed by fear, despite his desperate urge to flee.

The constable raised an eyebrow.

"Carry on, sir. Have a safe journey."

He walked back to his post, turning his head back to watch the man.

He stood completely still for a moment, almost willing the police to slap the handcuffs on him and drag him away. Eventually, regaining control of his legs, he turned and boarded the train, choosing the next carriage from the front to sit in.

He could see the two policemen watching him through the window as the final boarding call sounded, but finally the train moved away from the platform, beginning to pick up speed as it headed out into the country.

After a few minutes of letting the train speed up he muttered a quick prayer, before reaching into his pocket and fumbling with the detonator.

Shit.

It had come unconnected from one of the wires in his pocket somehow! Cursing himself for his stupidity on not checking this earlier, he pulled it a fraction out of his pocket and began twisting the cables back together, hoping nobody else in the carriage would notice.

It was quite crowded on that train, with people crammed together, those forced to stand envying those who were lucky enough to procure seats. It was a busy hour - Friday evening was when everyone boarded the Underground in Westminster. In fact, it was so crowded, that only a few people noticed the man fumbling with wires, and those who did dismissed it within a heartbeat, assuming it was some sort of iPod...

He finally got the wires together. Leaning back in his seat and taking a deep breath, Thomas pushed the button.

Fifteen pounds of C-4 detonated instantly, ripping through his body and on into the densely packed carriage.

The train flew beneath the streets of downtown Westminster when the trigger was finally detonated. The carriage flew into the air, breaking through the congested M19 motorway during rush hour. Flames billowed, propelling shards all over. Corpses and wounded Eurasians lay scattered on the cold, uncompromising motorway.

Sirens screamed in the distance.

OOC: Will post more later.

The signs of rebellion where clear and making sure that unstability of the area was secure Raven corps tried to make contact with the group responsible....


The letter was sent.. The address was gotten for contact unknown....





TO: The Red People Army
From: unknown....


We would be willing to help train and finance your operations. Who this is or way we want to help is none of your concern....

To make contact go to this location Bring only two people..


OOC: go to a coffee shop on some corner...

"Comrade, shall we meet them? This sounds like a trap to me..."

"Indeed it does, Comrade Banken, but we are low on supplies and could use the support. It is a risk I am willing to have you undertake."

"But sir! Couldn't we send Rashad? He's better at these things than me."

"Nonsense, you are a fine soldier in the Red People's Army, and besides, the letter says two people, Rashad will accompany you."

Samuel Banken sighed deeply before saluting and leaving to make preparations. General Lucien Vetreux watched him go, letting him get a fair distance away before flipping open a cell phone and dialling.

"Yes comrade, as the news channels show, our attack was a success. Our cell has received a letter from an unknown, offering us funding. I'm setting up a meeting with some of our more expendable members."