NationStates Jolt Archive

Bernardo Esparza laughed aloud as he looked around at the ruined hulks of tanks and troop trucks. The bridge to San Valencio was open, and behind him the full brunt of the rebel army was moving forward with a pace previously thought impossible by the tyrannical government of the capitalist dog, Marshall Vicente De Los Santos. Before the 22 year old revolutionary commandante were the bodies of nearly 200 of the dictator’s elite, the military arm Department for the Suppression of Marxist Activity, a crack unit of soldiers and secret police commissioned months ago at the outbreak of the revolution to gain a leg up on the forces of Auguste Castillos, the biggest name in the Agujeran Marxist movement, and a former general in Los Santos’s army.

As he looked upon the broken tip of the government’s spear, and turned back to watch his own men firing celebratory rounds into the clear blue afternoon sky, his heart thrilled. He thought back to nearly a year ago, to his strange meeting with the foreign specialists from a nation whose name he could not pronounce, to the long and bloody three week siege of Valero, where the bodies piled so high in the streets that he had hid behind them as his enemies did with sandbags.

He remembered the long retreat after his victory there, into the hills in the east of the island, how the dried mud caked into his boots and the flies gathered under his nostrils while he slept on the wet ground with 50 others, the core of the revolutionary movement. He saw in the faces of the tyrant’s dead soldiers the faces of the men who had come upon them in their sleep and cut the throats of his friends and neighbors while they took refuge in the homes of sympathizers. In the eyes of his comrades’ corpses here, he saw the red banner waving as it did atop the fort of Colina Negra, their first victory as a unit, and a step forward for the revolution after many steps back.

Now, with this bridge under the control of the revolution, and its defenders dead in the streets, the gateway to the rest of the island nation of Agujero was open. Liberation would finally come to the masses of the destitute, and victory would be won only through ruthlessness by their liberators. With the sun shining on his soot covered face, Esparza crossed the bridge. 4,000 unwashed, stern-faced men, drunk on their victory, followed him.

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A Broadcast to the People of Agujero, and the Oppressed Masses of the World, from Auguste Castillos

Today, here on this island, a great blow has been struck against oppression, poverty, and miserable destitution. By the will of a handful of men dedicated to a return to decency, compassion, and civilized government, the road to the liberation of the oppressed nation of Agujero has been opened. The town of San Valencio, long a stronghold of the criminal government of Marshall De Los Santos, has been liberated, and revolutionary forces make way into the heart of the nation, towards the capital at San Tomas, where they will bring the justice that so many have prayed for, and topple the government of the dictator.

The pig De Los Santos, who even now suckles himself on the fruits of his enslaved people, rules without right, nor reason. He has grown accustomed to the complacency of the laborer, the farmer, and even the soldier. Let this be a wake up call to him, and may the actions of the oppressed speak louder than any words. We, the people, will no longer be content to toil in his shadow, while he avoids making good on his promises of prosperity to his citizens. Only his brothers and close confidants have grown fat in the five years of his reign.

To those who are elsewhere chafing now under the yoke of oppression, and who suffer in poverty from which there seems no escape, let these events in Agujero be a beacon of hope. Only through armed socialist struggle can you be made free, as I have discovered, and as the people of Agujero will soon come to learn. Throw down your axes and take up arms! We, the Agujeran people stand beside you in brotherhood, without borders. Your struggle is our own!

To the friendly, free states who smile upon our actions, I offer my hand in friendship, as soon the Agujeran nation will join you in the sunshine of equality and prosperity. Should you see fit, I will accept any aid you can offer me in this great hour.

Again, let our victory today be a wake up call to our oppressors, and to those everywhere who have ignored the groans of the starving, the bruises on the beaten, and the lesions on the flesh of the sick. The triumph will soon go to the righteous, and the brave, who have not suffered to be one with a broken system! Viva Agujero! Viva la revolución!

Master-Colonel Tom Lee Swaggert, commander of the 5th Marine Division, watched through his laptop as Auguste Castillos made his broadcast to the world, or anyone who would listen, for that matter. Seeing the opportunity for an excellent training mission, Swaggert immediately jotted down a telegram, typed it down on his computer, and immediately sent it off to Castillos.

General Castillos,

This is Master-Colonel Tom Lee Swaggert, commander of the 5th Marine Division of the Sniper Country Armed Forces. It has come to my attention that you are in the process of causing a large revolution, however legal or illegal it may be in your eyes. I myself find the idea of Marxism disgusting, and furthermore do not support you personally in any way. However, seeing this as an opportunity to give some of my men some much needed In-Country training, I'm willing to have one company of my men support your operations. That is, one hundred forty four troops, sir. Do be forwarned, however, that my men will take no part in the ruthless slaughter of innocent civilians, and will moreover be instructed to disregard any order partaining to the aforementioned. I believe you will find my men to be of the greatest calibre of troops the world over, although the troops I plan on sending have seen no true combat experience - precisely why I intend on sending them. You should no less feel honored, General. It's not every day that a nation, much less a rebelious general, attains the support of the SCAF. Do feel honored, General.

Master-Colonel Tom Lee Swaggert

MCL Swaggert sent the telegram, and immediately sent the order for Shamrock Company to gear up and prepare to board one of the readied C-130M transport for a paradrop insertion. Of course, Shamrock Company was known throughout the SCAF for seeing battle in Honjaksgrad, Omz222 several years ago. All the men were in their mid to late thirties, but nonetheless considered a most capable fighting force within the SCAF. Swaggert wasn't about to send nonprior combat troops to support a revolutionist. There was no room for trust here.

"Congratulations on the successful victories of the Marxists in Agujero. The Republic supports such efforts to overthrow the Bourgeoisie around the world, and is prepared to deploy forces into Agujero to defend the People against possible counter-revolutionary backlashes."

Jabir Yusuf
People's Commissar of War
The Halladi Workers' Republic

http://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/hallad.jpg

Major-Colonel Swaggert,

It is a special kind of soldier who can be made to put aside his own ideals to do his duty, and an even more unique kind who offers to set them aside when he is not asked to do so. I have never been a man to be forced to do anything I did not agree with, hence the revolution that now nears its climax in my country. However, amid all of your insults to my beliefs and to my cause, I find in you something oddly worthy of respect.

Do not take this to mean that I trust you, or find myself sympathetic to you in any way, as I am sure my personal distaste for one of your kind, who sets aside his beliefs for simple opportunity, is equal if not greater than yours for one such as myself.

I will accept your offer of assistance, and will permit your unit to enter Agujero on behalf of the revolution, not because I believe you have any right to fight for our cause, but because I know you speak the truth when you profess how invaluable this assistance will be.

You will not be ordered to commit anything amounting to a criminal act against noncombatants. I am an honorable man, and I recognize that all people who live under the yoke of the tyrant in my homeland are inherently essential to the revolution. Even those who may not yet be aware of it are simply revolutionaries not yet awakened to the cause.

I will also not make you subject to any inferior officer of the revolution, but will ensure that any instruction you recieve will come directly from me. I will expect that you will take this as an honor, as you have asked me to take your own offer of assistance, and will follow the instructions you are given, as they will not interfere with your moral compass, as specified.

I hope that this concludes our agreement, and that you will take these terms favorably. Much as you may disagree with the cause you have now bound yourself to, I hope that our relationship may at the very least be a functional one, benefitting your own men as much as they may benefit Agujero.

Auguste Castillos

-------

Jabir Yusuf,

I greet you humbly after having recieved your recent message. I am pleased to find friends of the revolution as far away as in your own just nation, and I appreciate both your congratulations and offer of assistance. I gratefully accept both. The revolutionary forces will welcome any in our nation who will defend it.

Auguste Castillos

Dear Auguste Castillos,


I wish to let you and your socialist, marxist pigs now, that marxism has been tried in other nations, and fails every time, if the system is a strong as you claim, why has no nation made it work? The answer is.... Marxism sucks in every way, in effect it enslaves man to man, man, to goverment, and it sucks, I have seen it action before, and It doesn't work, anyone who uses Marxism and claims it's a good system for him and the people, is deluded and evil. If you threaten our proud nation of Calizorinstan, we have under consturction a sub, and SRBM that will destroy your palace, note it seems like I am threatning you, I am not, but warning to to tread lightly, or else the big stick will fall on you!

Jack Arnold
Calizoristan Head of State

Mister Arnold,

While I respect your impressive eloquence, I must inform you that regrettably your tirade has not in any way convinced me to throw down the cause I have shed blood for for nearly one year. I must also inform you that all of your convictions will mean nothing should the people of your nation awaken to the reality of their own destitution. Should that be the case, the revolution will not be held back, and you will see your government fall as that of Marshall De Los Santos is about to. In such a case, the Agujeran people would stand shoulder to shoulder with those of Calizoristan.

Auguste Castillos

A tall, lean man with the stride of an athlete moved down the city streets of San Valencio. He turned into a side street which was deserted. The city was in chaos, the rebels were steam rolling past the government forces, news of the bridgehead being taken finally reached this man, concern and doubt entered his mind. De Los Santos struggled to maintain his oppressive control over the island nation which quickly began to fall to the rebel bands under Castillos. The man strode towards a heavy metal door on the side of a building, which appeared like any other building. He stepped up to the door, a box was bolted to the wall next to it, similar to a junction box. He opened it with a key which revealed a card reader, he produced a key and swiped it, the door unlocked and he quickly stepped through, shutting the door behind him. On the outside, the building was old, paint worn, shutters falling off, almost abandoned. However, the inside of the structure was alive and vibrant. Rooms filled with equipment, crates, computers, as well as people. They sat at desks typing while other paced through the rooms, files in hand.
"Status report" the man demanded as he walked up to a short man who ordered several other around. He was bald, slightly older but a commanding presence.
"Sir, as you know, the bridge was recently taken,. The rebel forces are moving towards the city, no word from De Los Santos or any of his people." the bald headed man replied quickly and fluidly.
"Dammit! Malsten, what about the upcomign shipment" the lean man replied, taking off his hat and mving to a desk, setting the cap down.
"Janus, there's something else" Malsten paused, searching for the right words "They cancelled the shipment. It seems that the committee decided to halt this shipment"
"It's odd, they want us to help solve this situation but they don't have the spin to go all the way" janus shot back, voice irritated.
"Now that the bridge is taken, the city will surely fall."
"What about The Execution Team?" Janus asked, flipping through a folder.
"They're on their way." Malsten answered "The Committe is still willing to send them to help."
"Good, they're expertise is needed. This Castillos character must be dealt with" Janus said as he walked over to a screen and sat down, beginning to type up an email, his fingers nimble as they raced across the keyboard, each word carefully typed out.

Dear Auguste Castillos,
I am sad to inform you, that we have built ICBMs, and unless you stop abdicating for our proud goverment's destruction, we cannot co-exist with a man that wants to tear dow our rights, freedom and happiness, we can fight conventiilly, but we realize that would be too much resources into what could be solved with a nuke, it makes us a sad as you, but we aren't going to lauch the ICBM unless you don't back down from the abdication of our freedom loving goverment by force, for we are a patient people, except for tyrannical leaders, you have taken your position by blood and must be prepared to shed blood, if you don't back down from your statement

Jack Arnold
President of Calizorinstan

Esparza bent down and lit the cigarette dangling from the dying man’s mouth, a look of utmost compassion on his face. The man’s chest was covered in blood soaked bandages, but he still clutched a revolutionary cap in his pale fist.

“Thank you, commandante,” the man rasped.

“You have served the people well. They will remember you.”

Esparza stood and moved on to the next stretcher, sitting on the dusty ground under the shade of a camouflaged tent. He closed the eyes of the dead man lying there on his back, taking a last look at him before stepping outside.

“Commandante, we have captured a handful of counter-revolutionaries trying to blow up ammunition.”

Esparza’s compassionate eyes turned steely as the revolutionary soldier gestured at a group of five young men, horribly emaciated and covered in bruises. Esparza stalked over to them, his hand on the hilt of an automatic pistol in a holster at his hip. They turned their faces away as he approached. Overcome with anger, Esparza grabbed the nearest one by the chin and forced him to look at his face. The man’s expression showed terror.

Esparza threw him down into the dirt and landed a kick into his rib cage. The man screamed.

“How dare you cower like this while your countrymen lie dying in that tent! You are traitors! Dogs! Despicable pigs! You have tried to steal liberty from your fellow Agujerans today.”

The revolutionaries keeping watch looked on with a mix of fear and awestruck admiration. Here was a true revolutionary. The model of a socialist man.

Esparza kicked the closest man again.

“Do you have nothing to say, after you have sabotaged your countrymen?”

The man looked away. Esparza raised his weapon and fired five times, one bullet for each man’s chest. Those who were not instantly killed were shot again, until they lay silent and still.

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

In his palace in the hills overlooking the wide avenues of the old colonial city of San Tomas, Marshall De Los Santos paced, deep in thought. An unlit cigar was growing ever shorter between his lips as he unconsciously gnawed away at the butt.

“San Valencio has been completely occupied by revolutionary forces, your Excellency,” General Amadis Diego quietly informed the President. There was no response.

“Your Excellency, I can deploy several divisions immediately to counterattack. We can drive them back across the river.”

De Los Santos stopped pacing, and took the cigar from his mouth, letting it drop to the floor. With vacant eyes he looked out of the great bay window, over the rolling hills, and out to the sea where the sun was setting in the distance. He had grown very old in just the five years since he had assumed control over the nation of his birth, the victor in an earlier bloody civil war that had seen the previous government completely destroyed.

As if suddenly awakening from a dream, he noticed the commander of his armed forces for the first time.

“General Diego, how many men can you send against him?”

“Against Castillos?”

“Who else would I mean!”

“I have 12,000 soldiers waiting for their orders, Excellency.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Drive them back. This revolution will proceed no further.”

Diego saluted and left the room quickly, fearing his president’s wrath. De Los Santos collapsed heavily into an armchair, rubbing his tired eyes.

Janus let out a heavy sigh and massaged his brow with his fingers. He was stressed and tired, sleep was a luxury which was not afforded to him. The revolutionaries entered the city that day, thousands of citizens crowded the streets in celebration. They cheers and sang songs of hope and joy as the last throws of oppression were lifted off their shoulders. Janus gave the order to scrub the facility and evacuate. They were all highly trained and skilled, moving on muscle memory. The technicians and operators packed away the equipment in carry cases and black boxes, which lay ready to be used. The time came to move on and relocate to another safe house to operate. They all worked for an organization whose agenda and business was in danger from the rebel insurgency. The organization was a puppeteer whose strings connected across the globe with deep influence and near bottomless resources at their disposal. Agujero, nothing more than just another stage for powerplayers.
"Janus, we'll be mobile in about fifteen minutes" Malsten reported as others hurried around him, packing away the equipment into trucks and jeeps in the motorpool.
"Excellent, I'll send word to the Execution Team about our next location and I'll contact De Los Santos" Janus replied quickly and picked up an encrypted satellite phone. He called the team whch was on its' way to San Tomas. Then, he diald Santos.
"De Los Santos, it's Janus"

Col.Mike Johns, wiped his forehead, he was in the C-17 that was to paradrop his elite squad into San Valencio and assist the people's revolt, for good or for worse help the people. They were to find shelter, and group up and in the morning attack some of the Marxist forces. He had less then 3 minutes to reflect on that, when the green light beeped, and the Taskmaster yelled to him and the troops "Go, go go go!" He jumped out of the plane, and the others followed , after 5 minutes, he fell faster, faster, then his parachute opened and he landed in some shrubbry new a house, 9 others landed beside him and he ordered them to check out the house and make sure it was part of the friendly democracy-loveing people, and then there would be where they took shelter.

They opened the door to the house cautiously, and saw a young man, about 27 and a young lady, about 28 sitting at a table, Mike went up to them and asked "Are you part of the Marxist movement, or are you part of the Democracy movement? We don't need to know your names, we need shelter, we are helping the Democracy cause, and their's 10 of us, but there is 14 more coming May we take shelter?"

They young man, name John, said "I am part of the Democracy movement, my wife here is name Jenny, and you may shelter, we can hide you as long as you need to, let me show you to the beds" John led Mike and his troops to the beds, and left them there, and the troops laid down to get some rest for the firefight-filled morning that probably lay ahead of them.

Dear Auguste Castillos,
I am Aleksei Ognev, Premier of the Socialist Republic of Krendakoc. We received your broadcast and noticed that you wished for help from any friendly nation. Not wanting the counter-revolutionary, bourgeois dogs achieve victory in your nation, we desire to deploy some of our armed forces to your nation. We would like to know whether or not you control any ports where our troops could easily land or if we should prepare for a large amphibious landing. Please answer with haste, as we would like to have a head start on any of the counter-revolutionary elements that may be drawn to this conflict.
Yours sincerely,
Premier Aleksei Ognev

Dear Auguste Castillos,
I wish to inform you that my elite squad of 36 arrived into San Valencio, and as we speak is engaging your forces, and even if we don't win here, freedom, justice and truth will win in the end, and I trust that my forces will try the darndest, but I didn't write this to let you know in advance, I did it to show you I take threats to my people seriously.

Jack Arnold
Head of State
Calizorinstan

Somewhere within two hundred miles from the Agujero coast

“Sir, we have received Congressional authorization to act.”

“Very good. Do we have triangulation on the location of Mr... what's his name again? Auguste Castillos?”

“That's correct, Sir. We have an approximate location for him and his men, yes.”

“Very well. Now, you may or may not know, but the Field Marshal Pro-Tempore wants to try out the new ZMI hovecraft on this. Therefore, we are only to engage them with the resources we have here at a tentative scale. The full-scale attack will begin later.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do we have any satellite photography of any large formations of rebel forces?”

“Yes, Sir, we do. Here it is.”

“Very well. Fire two high-explosive-warhead cruise misiles at the approximate location of Mr. Castillos and his men. Another two against De Los Santos' palace. Neither the communist, nor the fascist scumbag must breathe no longer. Furthermore, fire ten cruise missiles at the rebel positions, carrying cluster munitions. On my mark...”

“All gunners ready, proceed for target selection at coordinates...”

“In the name of the Queen! Fire!”

OOC: Obviously this is just a form of opening shot. Calizornistan, please contact me via TG.

A wave of C-17's flys over the beach of San Valencio, and drops aprox .350-500 men equpied with M249 SAWs, and DRC-87 Carbines, and they land in the wader and wade under heavy fire, 2 more waves of C-17's are seen headed to the beach to drop more re-enforcements, and that will continue until a beachhead is secure.

The first wave advances up the beach under heavy fire, and kills 200 out of the 500 men, but the 250 that survived advanced up, and put a bangalore near teh base of the bunkered cliffs, and teh ran too cover, as it blew a portion of the cliff enought for them to advance, more heavy fire knocks out 100 out of the 150 and the 50 wait for the 2nd and 3 waves of 300 and 500 repsectively, and they guide an Calizorinstan F/A-15 and F-16 flights to bomb the bunkers, while they wait for re-enforcements, and they wai, and the CAS takes out all the bunkers, and they advance, now as a 850-900 men force, and advance through more heave fire, and they finally reach the top, and they raidied the surviving bunkers, and took out the what was left of the marxist forces, now the ways was clear for some allied help....

Swaggert chuckled to himself as he read and closed General Castillos' message. He watched from his office window as the C-130M took off from the runway, probably changing to the departure frequency already. Inside were 144 of the best troops he'd ever had the opportunity to train, and now, once again, they were going to prove themselves.

-----

The Hercules was well on its way to Agujero, flying at about eighteen thousand feet. The paint of the newly voted Sniper Country flag was worn proudly on the tail of the plane. This was no secret mission; simply a training mission, for the most part. The troops of Shamrock Company were packed in close inside the belly of the large plane. Many napped, some read, others checked over their weapons and gear. None was dressed in proper In-Country attire, as for the fact that they were engaging in a revolution. There was no sense in going all out for the deal. Each wore his own taste in clothing, so long as he still had his LBE/PBA and all essential gear, he was fine.

The plane was growing closer and closer to the shoreline. Finally, the men were ordered to stand up and hook up - the drop was coming within ten minutes. They were all static jumping, from five thousand feet, into a small field where the last known battle between revolutionary and national soldiers took place, somewhere close to a nicely sized bridge. Naturally, upon landing, the troops would make their way toward this bridge, in hopes of linking up with the revolutionary forces. If not, they'd have to trek until they found some.

The red light went off, and the green sprang up before the company of men. Each jumped through the rear of the plane, laughing, yelling, and carrying on for the sake of it. Some would have called it undisciplined. The SCAF called it "good".

“Sir!”

A young male secretary burst into the Premier’s office. He took a short moment to compose himself. Then he began to speak.

“The Allaneans have launched an attacked on both factions in Agujero. The Calizorinstanians have also started deploying troops via para-drop into Agujero. We are as of yet, unsure of the Calizorinstanians’ aim. The Allaneans seem to have their own agenda as far as this goes. Most likely case is that they will try and install some sort of right-wing government.”

Premier Ognev stood up out of his chair and slammed his fist down onto the desk angrily, spilling some coffee that was in a mug over a document that he had been reading.

“This is ridiculous, that these nations should feel safe to attack this nation. They have not been provoked. Something must be done. Call an emergency meeting of the council of commissars.”

The secretary rushed back out of the room, dragging the large heavy oak door closed behind him. Sitting back down in his chair, Premier Ognev searched through a pile of folders on his table and pulled out a rather thin one entitled ‘Agujero’. He leaned back in his chair, a frown persisted on his face, and began reading the document.

--------

In the foreground stood a podium made from wood with a hammer and sickle emblem in metal on the front of it. On the top was a single microphone. The background was a red curtain in front of which stood two Krendian flags, one to the left and one to the right of the podium.

Suddenly, Premier Ognev walked up behind the Podium, carrying the ‘Agujero’ folder. Placing it upon the podium, he began his speech.

“Good day, comrades. Recently, the Allaneans and Calizorinstanians launched un-provoked attacks on Agujero. Their actions are clearly unacceptable.

“Due to these attacks, Krendakov will be deploying military assets to take out these threats. These assets will also aim to aid the revolution in Agujero. We cannot let the reactionaries win.

“Comrades, tough times may be ahead, but we will be ready. We will take on the bourgeoisie and we will win. We will beat them back to the small, dark, damp, corners where they make their pitiful existence.

“Comrades, we will be there to destroy the counter-revolutionaries.”

The Premier quit the stage.

--------

Approximately 320 km from the coast of Agujerian cost, an attack submarine lurked beneath the surface of the waves. Its black hull floated ominously in the water. Inside, the atmosphere was tense. The captain looked at the Allanean submarine on the sonar screen. He sighed, and spoke.

“Load fore torpedoes.”

At the fore torpedo room, torpedoes were loaded into their tubes. The sailors wrestled with the weighty objects, but managed to get them into the tubes.

“Fore torpedoes loaded, sir!”

“Arm fore torpedoes.”

One of the sailors in the command room flicked a series of switches.

“Fore torpedoes armed, sir!”

“Fire torpedo one in three…

“Two…”

“One…”

“FIRE!” shouted the captain. One torpedo flew through the waters toward the Allanean vessel, leaving a trail of bubbles behind it, floating to the surface. It rushed closer and closer to the Allanean submarine. The captain waited to see the result on the sonar screen.

--------

A battlefleet drew close to where the Calizorinstanians were attacking. The fighter jets from the aircraft carrier were on patrol and were ready to shoot down any enemy fighters they encountered. The fleet was guarding a group of amphibious warfare vessels and transport vessels that were going to deploy a total of three infantry and two armoured divisions. These troops would help the Agujerian revolutionaries achieve victory.

OOC: My vessel is a submarine. Have I forgotten to mention that? However feel free to replace the torpedoes with ASROC's or whatever. Can you contact me via MSN or AiM Krendakov?

OOC: What would happen to the country if the revolution won?

Air Attack

“Sir, we lost contact with the sub.”

“Oh fuck. Scramble the 10th Air Armada”

And so, an immense amount of ancient (though good-condition) F/A-18 aircraft rose into the air – a full 1,000 in number. They carried, each, a pair of air-to-air missiles, and a single, long-range, air-launched missile.

The Armada divided into three groups, stretching out towards the enemy in a three-pronged attack.

“Are we all ready to rumble?”

“Entering range to targets in three minutes, Sir. All ready to lock and load.”

Right now, the aircraft were in their most vulnerable stage – their mobility was restricted by the heavy missile payload. In a few minutes that would change.

“Two thousand five hundred furlongs to target. All ready to go.”

The pilots laid their fingers on the launch buttons.

“Two thousand two hundred furlongs to target. Fire! Fire damn you all!”

And then the planes became lighter.

In a single burst of fire, they launched their missiles – five hundred were divided evenly between the troop carriers, the rest aimed at the amphibious assault vessels. Amazingly, the carrier and the other escort vessels were not harmed at all.

The Allanean aircraft continued towards the battlegroup.

“Send the fighters to intercept before they get here” shouted the admiral. He was worried, one thousand aircraft, a bit overkill.

“Too late, sir, the first of them appear to have fired anti-shipping missiles.”

“Damnit. How long till likely impact?”

“Sir, judging from the trajectory they won’t. They seem to be only targeting the amphibious assault and transport ships.”

“What? Are they cra… never mind, I don’t want a single one of those fighters getting home, destroy them all.”

Suddenly, all the ships began targeting the Allanean fighters. Anti-air missiles rose from the vertical launch tubes, and the close in weapons systems began to spit out bullets at the missiles. However, this show of fire-power seemed slightly pitiful in the face of all these oncoming fighters and missiles.

Although many missiles were destroyed by the close in weapons system, some still got through. They wreaked havoc among the transports, wripping huge gashes in the superstructure of them. Two of them started sinking immediately, while the others rocked violently. A series of tanks fell out of a hole in one of their sides. Soldiers were rushing to the life-boats or jumping into the waters. The amphibious assault ships didn’t fare much better, many of the men in these escaped in landing craft, however.

One of the rapidly sinking transport ships suddenly ripped in half, with a horrific screech which was audible over the sound of the battle. By this point another of the transports was sinking. The other ships had began launching their own life-boats to try and pick up as many men as they could.

The admiral sent of a transmission back to Krendakov. It was as followed.

‘Under air attack from Allanean air assets.

‘Transport ships and amphibious assault ships all hit.

‘Many sinking.

‘Request help.’

The Krendian Military was scrambling fighters and helicopters, as well as launching rescue ships.

Official Imperial Message

The empire has taken note of the events unfolding in Agujero and while the empire does not support communism or socialism it is the view of the empire that every nation has a right to its own soverignty and denounce the attacks against the new government of Agujero..continued attacks may result in military actions by Gatawan Imperial Forces

Nadov III...Emperor of Gataway

In the Air

“Sir! We have gotten all of the communist transport ships! However, they have not all sunk yet! Sir, we must turn home! Before they hit us with their response! Sir, we must turn back now!”

“There is still three ship afloat. We cannot turn back. It is our mission to ensure that none of them get to shore to land their troops, do you understand this?”

“Sir, we must... INCOMING!”

“Alert to all aircraft, incomnig missiles...”

But the pilots already saw it. On all their radar screens, myriads of red dots lit up – designating swarms of incoming Krendian missiles.

“Oh God, no!”

The sky was filled with explosiions. Dozens and dozens of pilots died immediately as they met the enemy missiles head on. Others had their aircraft tumble out of the sky, smashing into the blue, unfeeling surface of the sea.

“Enemy fighters at twelve, eleven, ten, nine, I repeat, Group Alpha and Beta, you are the first to meet them. Clear to fire.”

The surviving aircraft – perhaps slightly over seven hundred in number – all fired at once, pelting the enemy with an immense amount of anti-aircraft missiles.

And then, the real fight began.

It was a monstrous dogfight, taking the Allanean craft and their Krendian enemies over the very Krendian fleet, where Krendian anti-aircraft crews could and did fire again and again at the Allaneans – though it would be likely that missiles would no longer be used due to the danger to Krendian aircraft. It would be now time for the gatling gun and the heavy machinegun, the barrel roll and the strafing run – aerial wafare as at has been done since biplane aircraft first crossed paths over Europe.

But the Allanean pilots did more then just fight. They strafed the decks of the dying transports and the lifeboats with a hail of gunfire from the air, they flew meters over the decks of Krendian ships like screaming devils from hell itself – and eventually, Captain Jeremiah Holmes earned his Liberty Star.

For a few seconds, Captain Holmes was above the battle. Behind him, a Krendian aircraft streaked out towards the water.

He was safe, for a while. He saw his comrades have accomplished the missiln – the troop carriers have either sunk or were obviously not going anywhere. But now, he knew, another strike against the enemy had to be landed. Perhaps, he hoped, the other members of the Armada could then retreat. Even if not... he had to make these godless communists remember him.

But he had no anti-ship weapons.

Or had he?

He turned, descending onto one of the enemy ships from a high angle, the sun behind him – he hoped it would blind the gunners and make it harder to lock on him with a missile. He aimed for what he thought would be an imporant part of the carrier and pulled on the controls so hard he felt pain in his knuckles.

When the plane hit the KNS-CV-13, it was travelling at a full five hundred meters per second – at half the speed of a rifle bullet, but at about ten million times the weight.

Captain Jeremiah Holmes earned his Liberty Star.

OOC: Calizorinstan, I'm ignoring your attacks due to blatant godmoding in post 15. Read the stickies. I'll get responses up to the rest of you as soon as I finish reading.

Premier Aleksei Ognev,

Forgive me, for I must respond briefly. The revolution will accept any form of support you can offer. We will receive your soldiers with utmost gratitude. We control a makeshift port on the nation’s eastern coastline with a beach suitable for landing men and heavy equipment. You will find the coordinates enclosed. Please hurry.

Auguste Castillos

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

“Apparently, General, you’re dead.”

Auguste Castillos accepted the soiled document from the hand of the smiling revolutionary officer.

“General Castillos certainly killed in foreign missile strike,” he read aloud, an amused gleam in his eyes.

“We intercepted it after this morning’s raid on a radio outpost just outside San Valencio.”

Castillos lit a cigarette.

“With any luck, that should keep them quiet for a bit. Our forces?”

“Scattered. Heavy losses. About fifteen-hundred men, all told, plus a few dozen trucks. The jungle’s burning in the west, driving our command posts out.”

“Fair enough. There’ll be 700 million waiting to replace them once this island falls. We could finish this war with a few dozen.”

“Sir?”

“The revolution is a drum of petroleum. It only takes a single match to set it off. Once the people see De Los Santos swinging from a street lamp, they will rally completely to our cause.”

“That’s another thing, sir. Apparently, a simultaneous strike was launched on De Los Santos’s palace.”

“Is he dead?”

“No word yet.”

“I certainly hope not. I consider that my privilege.”

“If it was a perfect world, every Agujeran, man woman and child, would get to plunge a knife into him.”

Castillos chuckled.

“Perhaps we could arrange that.”

----------

General Diaz slowly opened his eyes, coughing as he did so. Blinking in the bright sun, he slowly adjusted his neck, looking around. He was lying in a pile of rubble. All around him he could see only ruined scaffolding and broken concrete. As his senses slowly returned to him, he felt a searing pain in his right leg. Struggling to sit up a bit, he looked down, and saw a sharp bit of metal protruding from his shin. His clothes were torn and bloodstained, but he soon found he was able to move both arms.

He cried out for help, as the pain in his leg grew worse. Soon, through the dust clouds rising around him and amid the heat from the flames licking at the rubble, a face appeared.

“General Diaz, sir!”

The man, a soldier, and a medic at that as it soon became apparent, knelt down beside his General. Proffering his canteen, which the injured commander gratefully accepted, the soldier examined the leg.

“It’s bad, sir. Broken at multiple points, not to mention the shrapnel lodged in the bone. You need to get to a hospital.”

Suddenly, Diaz, remembering something, shouted to the soldier:

“Find the President!”

“We have, sir. It’s…not good.”

Diaz grabbed the man about his shirt collar.

“Where is he?!”

“We’ve moved him to a hospital outside of the city, to avoid any further attacks. They won’t find him.”

“His condition!?”

“He has numerous internal injuries, burns, broken bones.”

Diaz gritted his teeth. If De Los Santos died, the government would fall apart. There would be no hope. It would be anarchy. Something had to be done in the meantime. The rebels would keep coming, the war would continue.

“Soldier, get me to the nearest command post.”

“But sir, your leg!”

“Shut up and do it!”

The soldier, taken aback, stood and saluted, before rushing off to find a stretcher.

----------

Esparza smiled at the pretty young nurse as she finished wrapping the bandage around his head. As he got to his feet, he leaned over and whispered something in her ear that made her blush. He tottered a little on his feet, before recovering and walking out of the tent. From the clearing, he could see the sky to the west, covered in thick black smoke. He lit a cigarette and accepted the salutes of a group of soldiers, just finishing their duties at the field hospital.

Limping slightly, he crossed the clearing and went through the treeline, into the makeshift bunker that held the command post. He returned the salutes of a dozen revolutionary officers, who stood from their posts at radios and monitor screens.

“Castillos is untouched, commandante. The strike missed him entirely.”

Esparza smiled. The General’s almost miraculous good fortune was legendary. With this, it was quite possible that people would begin to think of him as immortal. It was good for the revolution.

“What are our losses?”

“Anywhere between 1,000 and 12 hundred. Possibly higher. The strikes destroyed a lot of infrastructure. Bunkers, radio towers..”

Esparza accepted the news without expression.

“The government forces?”

“They bore a lot of the brunt. An entire enemy unit was caught under the cluster bombs. Completely annihilated. Obviously mistaken for a rebel column. Plus, they need the roads and the installations more than we do.”

“Fine. We must recover and exploit this, then. Organize whatever men we have in fighting condition, and send them forward to occupy the areas the capitalist swine have vacated. Inform Commandante Ruz that I will be joining him personally for his assault on Real.”

“Commandante, isn’t it best that you remain here? You are injured…”

Esparza waved him off.

“Nonsense. The fascist dogs will not rest if I wound them. Do not expect me to.”

Official Imperial Message

After an emergency security council meeting the Empire has decided to request that Medical elements be allowed to deploy to Agujero in an effort to save the lives of combatants and non-combatants on all sides of the ungoing conflict..the medical elements of the Imperial Army will be mostly unarmed with the exception of lightly armed guards to ensure Medical Base security.

Supreme Imperial Council, Emperor Nadov III of Gataway

The men of Shamrock Company landed on the ground without a hitch. The field was small, and it was rather astonishing that all the troops successfully landed within the area and not scattered throughout the nearby woodlands. A few of the men were on computers, most likely identifying their position on GPS sattelites, while also searching for life signatures in the immediate area. Most of the troops, though, were gathered in different areas, chatting amongst themselves, while also inconspicuously analyzing the area, checking for any personnel in the vicinity. A few had lit cigarettes, while others had plugs of chewing tobacco in their lower lip. The officer in charge of Shamrock, Commander Mike Hollis, walked up to one of the troops typing away at his computer.

"Whadda' we got," Hollis spoke up, taking a sip from his HYDRAtion pack.

"Well, Mike, looks like we landed in a pretty good spot. Appears to be a Revolutionary encampment about a mile northwest of our position, over toward that bridge we were supposed to go check out. Tell me something, Commander. Are we really here to support these Revolutionist folks," Sergeant Second Class Tom Talbert asked.

CDR Hollis laughed, "Good work, Tom," he said, patting Talbert on the back. Hollis whistled and motioned for all the men to fall in over him. In no particular order or fashion, the large number of men gathered around their commander.

"Alrighty, looks like we have a Revolutionist encampment about a mile northwest. I'll take my team, and we'll go investigate. The rest of you set up a perimeter in this field, and have a makeshift HQ going. I want to come back to a nice fluffy bed and a nice cold Coke," CDR Hollis joked, enticing his men to laugh along with him. He was a likeable guy, which is probably why he commanded this group of soldiers so well. Becoming an officer in the SCAF wasn't something you just took a few classes for. You had to actually earn it. His deep, country accent was just like any other found around Sniper Country, although his had a different twang to it, which was easily recognizable after hearing it just once. He was built like a rock, possibly because he was a star football player for Lehigh University back in his hayday, and he just kept it up after joining the SCAF. His shaved head was different, as most in the SCAF had their hair grown out and strewn all over the place.

CDR Hollis' team, given codename "Wicked," gathered together, as they made their way into the woods to the northwest. They moved in a nonchalant manner; stealth wasn't their exact aim in this mission. One wore a bright yellow baseball cap, as another wore a sunset orange shirt under his LBE/PBA. Each had on his standard Oakley sunglasses, which wasn't uncalled for in this situation. The sun was bright and it wasn't exactly cold outside.

After only a few minutes of marching, jogging, and sloshing around through the woods, the twelve men came out into a clearing, with their target bridge in sight. To the left, though, the top of a tent was clearly noticeable, along with several men who would be taken, even by the ordinary onlooker, for a Revolutionary (or Freedom Fighter, whichever way you prefered to look at it). Hollis slung his M4B2 over his back and proceeded to walk toward the camp. The ten others marched with him, not letting their weapons down, training their eyes on different men within the camp. The final member of the team, Seargent First Class Thally Sans, was the designated marksman, and had opted to take cover on the edge of the woodline, watching the every move of his teammates and their contacts on the other side of the road. There were several wounded, as noted by the team medic, SSC Chalm Newstone.

One of the foot soldiers approached Hollis, his weapon directly in the face of the Commander.

"Let me talk to your commander," Hollis said unwaiveringly. The men behind him watched others around the area, in their minds running through what would happen if something went terribly wrong. "Let me talk to your commander," Hollis repeated, more sternly.

Emperor Nadov III,

The Revolutionary forces will permit the deployment of medical elements. We cannot guarantee their safety, however, as a warzone is a dangerous place, at the least.

Auguste Castillos

--------

Emperor Nadov III,

While the legitimate Agujeran government respects your offer of assistance, we cannot permit foreign elements of any sort to legally enter Agujero at this time, even medical personnel such as your own. Should military elements from your nation be found within Agujeran borders, they will be treated as Revolutionary sympathizers and dealt with as such.

The Department for the Suppression of Marxist Activity

-----------

The revolutionary soldier confronted by the foreigner, speaking a language he couldn’t understand, looked the man up and down. He was joined momentarily by another soldier, and the two spoke softly with each other in Spanish. The first revolutionary held up a hand, compelling the foreigner to remain where he was, while the second went off in search of the commandante.

In a few minutes, Bernardo Esparza confronted the band of foreign soldiers. Esparza, while a naturally charismatic and disarming man in his own fashion, now had a look on his face as cold as ice.

“You are mercenaries, yes? From Sniper Country?”

OOC: This is a map of the island of Agujero:

http://usera.imagecave.com/mobrule132001/Agujero-map-1.bmp.jpg

ooc; What city would be the safest place for my very lightly armed medical units to deploy to?

Imperial Message to The Department for the Suppression of Marxist Activity

The empire's medical element is unarmed and being sent to aid all sides involved including civilians in an effort to save lives..further threats of this nature will result in a non-neutral stance being taken against anti-Marxist forces and may lead to full Imperial support for the revolutionary forces

Emperor Nadov III of Gataway

Imperial Message to Auguste Castillos

We thank you for allowing our medical elements to land..your counter parts are not so understanding as to the value of lives, we understand safety can not be guaranteed but believe the mission is worth the risk

Emperor Nadov III of Gataway

Near San Tomas

Dozens of calls were made, the channels wer clogged with radio chatter as Janus kept in contact with his superiors about the recent air strike. It was a disaster, right before Janus could speak to the President, static met him and reports of an airstrike fluttered in. Frustrated with the situation Janus cocked his head back and saw the blue skies above him. The ExTeam was still en route to San Tomas. Rebel forces as well as foreign intervention further complicated the situation. As of now, they did not know if De Los Santos was dead yet or not.
"Sir, we're approaching San Tomas" Malsten reported from the passenger seat. The highway was empty, except for their jeeps and trucks, numbering only about five. The driver swirved passed a buring wreck which brought Janus out of his daze.
"Alright, we must get in contact with General Diaz if Santos is unavaliable" Janus replied then sat up in the jeep. Janus had men inside the government and the military and after a few calls, knew the location of Diaz, the four other vehicles veered towards an off ramp. Malsten went with them to set up the new post in an predesignated spot. Janus, with the driver and two guards proceeded with the one jeep towards where General Diaz was reported to be located. After a half hour they reached the outskirts of the command post, requesting access to speak with Diaz, he flashed some money to the guard and let them pass. He stepped out of the jeep, his boots hitting the dirt hard as he stood erect, stretching his back and taking off his sunglasses.
"I wish to speak with Generl Diaz" he asked an officer.

CDR Hollis was almost taken back by this statement. Mercenaries? Yeah, right. "No sir," he replied, equalling the stone cold look his receptionist was giving him. "We're just a team of troops from the country you just named. Not mercs. If we were mercs, we'd be working for the government, since it looks like they could probably pay better than you," he said, obviously speaking of the tattered conditions of many of the Revolutionary's clothes and weapons. Hollis leaned over and spit out the wad of tobacco from his mouth, and returned to the staring contest with Esparza.

By this time, the men behind CDR Hollis had slung their weapons across their chests and were listening intently to the conversation betwixt Hollis and Esparza. They were glad at least one of them spoke English, or else it could have gotten nasty real quick. Spanish was one of the lesser known languages throughout Sniper Country, and several of the men in Wicked wondered if anyone back in the field knew any. One of the troops, Seargent First Class Herst Platt, popped a piece of gum into his mouth and began chewing. It was warm out, and he needed something to keep his mouth wet besides a pebble. He noticed one of the Revolutionary troops watching him, and promptly decided to toss the package of remaining gum to him. After all, if they were to be fighting together, they might as well learn to share.

-----

The small field was quickly turning into a battlefield headquarters. Foxholes and hasty fighting positions were already dug, built up, and camouflaged all around the perimeter, as well as a few small bunkers in the middle of he field. The troops with their laptop computers were busy typing away in one of the small bunkers, as they sat on stumps and tree limbs. The bunkers were laden with sattelite-feed printouts and maps of the country, locations of known forces throughout the area, as well as recent action reports. It was certainly a site to see. Not bad, really.

OOC: Gataway: Puerto De La Revolucion is a small fishing village being used as a makeshift port by revolutionaries. You could unload somewhere in that area.

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

“General Diaz, sir.”

The young soldier saluted. Diaz pulled the cigar from his mouth.

“What is it?”

“Some foreigner wants to see you.”

“What? Who let him in?”

The soldier shifted on his feet, and was silent. Diaz brushed him aside and stepped outside. The command post was buzzing with activity. Jeeps and armed soldiers came and went frantically. In the air, the whir of helicopter blades was nearly deafening.

Diaz quickly spotted the man who had requested an audience, and walked over to him.

“What’s this about? Who are you?” he asked.

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

The revolutionary soldier caught the pack of gum, an expression of surprise on his face. The soot on his face combined with his grizzled appearance hid the fact that he was only 18. Popping a stick of chewing gum in his mouth, he grinned at sergeant Platt, revealing a mouth full of black spaces where teeth had fallen out.

In response to the foreign officer, Esparza nodded.

“Alright. Are your men ready to see combat?"

"Yessir," CDR Hollis said, "whatcha got?" Hollis hadn't yet told of the whereabouts of the rest of the company, and wasn't going to until either questioned about them or given a mission. He pulled out a package of chewing tobacco, and stuck a plug in his mouth. He motioned the package toward Esparza, encouraging him to take some.

"Yessir," CDR Hollis said, "whatcha got?" Hollis hadn't yet told of the whereabouts of the rest of the company, and wasn't going to until either questioned about them or given a mission. He pulled out a package of chewing tobacco, and stuck a plug in his mouth. He motioned the package toward Esparza, encouraging him to take some.

Esparza accepted the chewing tobacco, and did likewise.

"My men are preparing to move on to the town of Real, the last of the fascist strongholds before San Tomas itself. Northwest of here is the town of Florida, which, from the reports of our scouts and agents, maintains a moderate garrison and command post. I need your forces to move up and capture this town, in the interest of protecting our flank."

Esparza spit a stream of tobacco juice onto the ground, through a gap in his teeth.

"The government forces there are estimated at 600 soldiers and some light vehicles, but they will scare easily, like pigs, when confronted by real soldiers. In addition, any intelligence your men can collect from the command post after its capture would be invaluable to the revolution."

Behind the commandante, soldiers were already beginning to board trucks, preparing to move on, to the long jungle road that would bring them to Real, and just a short jump from the capital at San Tomas.

"Can your men manage this, Commander?"

"You got it," CDR Hollis said, shaking the General's hand. He gave the General a small radio from his backpack. "If I need to get ahold of you, or vice versa, it'll be on that. Local channel one three," Hollis said after the General had taken the system from his hands. He turned around, and whispered a few, incoherant words into his COBRA headset. After just a moment, SFC Sans came creeping out of the woodline toward the rest of his team. They all gathered together near the road, huddled around Hollis.

"About twelve miles northwest is a town called Florida," he began. "The General wants us to head up there and take it, securing their flank as they march toward the capital. Government forces are estimated at about six hundred, plus a few vehicles, probably nothing major or tracked. We have to cross this bridge and then we'll be on our way."

The Commander spoke again into his headset, this time to the troops still in the landing field to the southeast. When he was finished, he pulled the magazine from his weapon and pushed it back in, securing it in place. He watched as the Revolutionaries moved around, picked up gear, and began boarding their transports. "Hey Chalm, see if any of these guys need any medical attention," Hollis said in a light voice, pointing in the general direction of the men and boys before him. SSC Newstone nodded his head and went about questioning the men before him if they had any need for attention, showing bandages and medicine in his bag.

Through the woodline across the road, several men, obviously of Shamrock Company, began appearing. They could have been mistaken for Revolutionaries, if they didn't have all their equipment and weaponry on, not to mention their clothing was quite as ragged as their "comrades in arms". CDR Hollis turned around, and with a wave of his hand, they all began marching north, crossing the bridge. It would be about an hour of walking for the unit. Hollis didn't question the order he had just received. If anything went down that wasn't supposed to, he could get in touch with the General. And if anything went terribly wrong, he knew exactly where the General was going; and the Commander wouldn't hesitate to follow.

Allanean High Command Offices

“Very well. It seems the rebels have intercepted our first attack. However, it seems that... how many now? One thousand five hundred of them are dead?”

“Yes, Sir. But... how will this help our cause?”

“Wait and see. As the temporary Field Marshal of the Queen's Armies, I order the First Force Projection fleet to be deployed in the area. All ships of it. Furthermore, while the fleet is proceeding to range... I would like a full sattelite image of their coastline here. Report all visible defenses.”

OOC: In other words, I would like to know what installations/big bases/other major defenses there are on the coast of Agujero that I could easily see, and other such pertinent information about the shore that would be visible (as in, not secret underground bases, but stuff you can take pics of from ordinary sattelites.

Colonel Vertov stood out on the deck of the massive hospital ship Sanctuary..looking out at the vast blue sea underway to some nation called Agujero, he'd never heard of it and didn't know why the Sanctuary or any of the other 4 hospital ships deployed to the area...Vertov was further puzzled as to why they were being sent in to save the lives of nations who had little or no contact with the empire, more surprising to him was the fact that they would be saving communist lives as well, where back at home socialists were regularly rounded up and arrested..however Vertov wasn't one to question orders...

A young ensign approached Vertov with an encrypted report..Vertov snatched the paper and dismissed the namless ensign... secretly hoping it was an order from high command to turn around.instead it was an order to deploy to a town named Puerto De La Revolucion..and to establish a ground HQ there...the report also detailed how the anti-revolutionary forces viewed even the medical deployment as hostile.."Great..we're here to save lives and those who we will be saving are threating us" Vertov thought to himself..

Never the less he passed on the new orders and the small fleet made their way towards the small town at full speed ahead..they would arrive within 18 hours..they had no idea what to expect upon their arrival to the war torn country..

The air war raged in the sky above the Krendian fleet, the sky filled with racing fighters, tracer fire and explosions. The seriously outnumbered Krendian fighters were having trouble taking on the Allanean air armada. Fortunately, the fight was over the undamaged Krendian warships, which were giving supporting fire from their close-in weapons systems. Many burning wrecks were falling from the sky from both sides.

As the Allaneans fought, they took pot-shots with their cannons at life-boats, drowning sailors or whatever enemy targets they could see. The sea began to take on a red tinge as thousands of soldiers died in the water, mercilessly shot by the Allaneans. It all got worse though, a lot worse.

Out of the sky shot one of the Allanean fighters, diving down, straight at one of the Krendian carriers – the KNS-CV-13. The sailors onboard had always worried that something bad would happen with a number like 13 assigned to them. Now they would be proved right. Hurtiling down, the Allanean fighter hit the deck of the aircraft carrier, releasing more energy in one second than a Vanguard-class submarines reactor can in one day. There were some reconnaissance aircraft on the deck, and they were flung up several dozen metres before crashing back down. Then they bounced up again, damaged by the landing, only a dozen metres or so. This action continued down the deck of the aircraft carrier until they fell of the edge. A huge hole had been left in the deck of the carrier, rendering it useless for conventional aircraft such as those used on it.

In the air, the dogfight raged on. More Krendian fighters were en route, however, and would be arriving shortly.

OOC: Not sure about the missile thing, I thought they had ‘friend or foe’ for those things which would make it safe to use the missiles. I’ll take your word for it, however.

People's Commissar of War (and Defense) Jabir Yusuf, after seeing the breakout of hostilities, personally organized a fleet to aid the Krendians in their battle at Agujero. He had previously promised troops to be deployed, but was doing so slowly and hadn't expected the unwarrented agression of the Allaneans. A light force was organized, though he took some of the most experianced sailors in the Red Navy, and set sail.

The Fleet consisted of:

1x Cairo-class Aircraft Carrier
4x Two-Tone class Cruiser
3x Ryydra-class Destroyer
3x Centurion-class Destroyer
8x True Directorate-class Frigate
4x Beta-class submarines
2x Akula-II class submarines
2x Kilo-II class submarines
2x Allah-class submarines
1x Dolphin-class intelligence submarine
4x Oscar-II class submarines
10x logistics ships
4x Deliverance Class Amphibious Warfare Ships
2x Cargo vessels (carrying munitions, aircraft, SAMs, tanks, smallarms, etc)

OOC: In other words, I would like to know what installations/big bases/other major defenses there are on the coast of Agujero that I could easily see, and other such pertinent information about the shore that would be visible (as in, not secret underground bases, but stuff you can take pics of from ordinary sattelites.

OOC: This map should help you out a bit:

http://usera.imagecave.com/mobrule132001/Agujero-map-beaches.bmp.jpg

The red outlines indicate stretches of coastline that are rocky, steep, or covered in jungle so as to make any sort of forced landing particularly difficult (the western third of the island is for the most part completely covered in jungle). The grey dots indicate forts, concentrations of coastal batteries, outposts, and other similar defensive installations. Those along the eastern coast are mostly either abandoned or in the hands of the revolutionaries.

General De Los Santos slowly opened his eyes, and promptly closed them again, against the blinding light. Slowly, he opened them again, squinting, and could barely make out the face of a young nurse. She covered her mouth with surprise, and called out for a doctor. One promptly appeared beside the injured president.

“My President, can you hear me?”

De Los Santos nodded, unable to respond due to the tube in his throat. This was removed shortly, and De Los Santos allowed his eyes to adjust. His body ached all over. He felt as though he had been hit by a train.

Outside, he heard a commotion, a doctor arguing with someone demanding to see the president. A minute later, General Diaz himself burst through the door, the doctors unable to restrain the large man.

“General De Los Santos!”

Diaz saluted, surprised to find his superior conscious. De Los Santos tried to raise his arm to return it, but found it impossible. Diaz walked over and stood beside the hospital bed.

“Where am I?” asked the general, weakly.

“A hospital sir. Your palace was attacked with missiles two days ago.”

“Castillos?”

“No, sir. Allanea.”

“Who?”

“Allanea. A foreign state. They have positioned a fleet in our waters, and are making war upon your government.”

De Los Santos began to cough, simultaneously groaning at the pain.

“Sir, the rebels are moving. Some officers in your army want to sue for peace, to end the war. I have come to ask you to order them to stand down.”

De Los Santos nodded.

“We will not..succumb…to Castillos’s…..rabble.”

Diaz was visibly relieved.

“Of course, my president.”

“Diaz, the army is…under your authority. Defeat our enemies.”

Diaz stood up and saluted.

“Of course, your Excellency.”

As he stood, his superior slipped back into unconsciousness. The nurse standing beside him glared at the general.

“Look what you’ve done! You’ve excited him too much.”

Diaz paid her no heed, and walked briskly out into the hall.

----

Esparza took a long draw on his cigar as he climbed to the top of the large hill overlooking the valley road that ran towards Real. His men had been marching for several hours, and had encountered nothing more serious than a few government scouting parties. In the distance, he heard the sounds of artillery fire, and overhead the noise of jet engines.

Things in this nation were visibly falling apart. It had been confirmed by rebel sources that De Los Santos was in critical condition. No one was sure who was in charge of the government forces, or how they would respond to the foreign aggressors and the rebel advance. Foreign support for Castillos was already on the way, and should the battle for Real end in victory, nothing would prevent the Marxists from marching on San Tomas in a matter of weeks.

Raising a pair of binoculars to his eyes, the revolutionary commandante surveyed the steeple of the large church in Real, a few miles off. By tomorrow afternoon, he was certain he would be standing over there, looking on Puerto Esperanza and the west of the island.

Master-Colonel Swaggert began typing away at his computer once again. This time, however, it was not to the rebel forces, but, in turn, the government forces, led by a General De Los Santos. Of course, he'd not received word of the General's condition, and his authority being passed down.

General Santos,

My name is Master-Colonel Tom Lee Swaggert. I am the commander of the 5th Marine Division, one of the premier fighting units in the entirity of the Sniper Country Armed Forces. I have observed as your country is torn with war, both within your country, and from agressors in other nations, who have no business in fighting with you or your nation. This is my bargain, General. Allow me to send two companies of men from my Division to assist your troops in their fighting against the rebel forces. I ask this not because I particularly believe we should help, but because I believe in the honor of your government - aside from the fact that I need some In-Country training for my troops. My men will be boarding their aircraft momentarily, and will be taking off for your nation. The only way they will stop is if you let me know in time for me to call them off. Otherwise, they will arrive within the streets of your capital within hours.

MCL Tom Lee Swaggert
5th Marine Division, Commanding

The Colonel sent the message, and looked out his window as Anberlin Company and Marui Company jogged, fully laiden with their weapons and equipment, toward their two C-130M transports. After only twenty minutes, the two aircraft took off as a flight, with a right turn out toward Agujero. The 288 men were, as the Colonel had told the Revolutionary General, new to combat. They had not seen war in Omz222 or any other place, but the training they'd been through was suffice enough. Swaggert sat back down and chewed on his cigar, awating a response from Santos.

-----

"POW! POW!"

The shots, each from a different weapon and a different marksman, rang out from the woodline and into the city streets. The two government troops manning a roadblock on the highway into Florida fell limp to the ground. Yells and rambling in Spanish were heard throughout the town, as gunfire erupted toward the woods. The troops were shooting wildly, coming nowhere close to the locations of the twelve seperate teams now hiding in the woodline, watching the every move of their targets. Most of the shots were coming from the windows of buildings that edged the city, although there were several troops running throughout the streets, making perfect targets for any soldier of Shamrock Company willing to take a shot.

However, unbeknownst to the government forces, one of the twelve teams had already begun their quick trek through a rather deep ditch which ran along the highway. Covered on both sides by high mounds of earth, the team quickly high crawled their way toward the road block just a few meters in front of them.

Giving cover to the advancing team, CDR Hollis gave the weapons free charge to his mean via the COBRA, to which an eruption of well placed, precision shots came through the woodline. Each man took aim through his scope, be it a red dot 1x-6x magnified scope, or a Leupold 4x-24x precision scope, placing their aim directly on the kill zone of each engaged enemy. Hollis didn't fire a shot; he simply sat back, and watched as his men fought the way they were trained.

OOC: Krendakov, it's true that missiles are mostly friend-or-foe. However if you set off a missile warhead in proximity to your own aircraft, the 'kill vehicles' (that is, the preformed shrapnel with which missiles kill enemy aircraft) is not going to care, it's just pieces of steel and lead and stuff flying all over.

IC:

Krendian Fleet Location

Once the Krendian aircraft carrier was on fire, the Allanean craft turned and fled towards Allanea, leaving the Krendian fighter pilots to wonder where, precisely, were they going to land.

From the Air Armada, only 457 aircraft remained.

Off the East Coast of Agujero

“This is our target. It is a rebel-held fort on the east coast of Agujero. The first attack will be to launch ten cruise missiles – of the Shockhammer type – against the fort. This will allow us to get within cannon range of the fort. And then the entire fleet – and I remind you we have four hundred ships in it... will begin to unload cannon and MRLS attacks on the Fort to turn it into rubble.”

“Very well, Sir. What about the airborne troops?”

“They already have their target.”

In the sky, over an abandoned fort on the East Coast of Agujero.

“Troops! Below us is an abandoned fortification. It is not approachable by sea. However, we, as you can see, will be happily approaching it by air.”

There was laughter.

“Very well. There are a hundred Archimedes Lever aircraft here, carrying ten thousand Airborne troops between them – the Furry Airborne Division. They may laugh at our name, but trust me, they'll stop laughing when they hear about us. You will land there, with several dozen fast-deploy runways. You know what to do next.”

“Yes, Sir!”

“The doors open in fifteen seconds. Good luck, boys.”

And so, sixteen seconds later, the skies above the abandoned Agujeran fort began to fill up with parachutes.

Aboard the arsenal ship Barry Goldwater

“Ladies and gentlemen,” -the Captain said, surveying his twenty-man crew. “It is our duty to stop the vile Halladi communist fleet from posing a threat to Agujero. I would ask you to program the last orders into the ships' computers and to abandon the Golwater. The rockets will begin to launch five minutes after we are in our lifeboats.”

A sattelite observer would have been perplexed with the image of the Allanean boats leaving the ship – and then, the ship turning at full speed towards the Halladi navy.

First flew fifty ultra-heavy Khan missiles – ten aimed at the aircraft carrier, and five each at the Two-Tone class cruisers at the Deliverance class amphibious combat ships.

After this, the arsenal ship turned back and went to rejoin the Allanean First Force Projection Fleet.

The ripples of war scuttled brooding and seductive across the tangles of the great world stage, luring the naïve with knavish wiles and enthralling the courageous with regalement of landslide triumph. Through accidental illusion was the havok of exotic lands misspoken to provoke the tender hearts of men to unbridled savagery. Through the swift electronic and the might of the printed word Lifesblood was infiltrated by dark desires disowned by humanity of lesser stature, yet perhaps of more wisdom.

On the oak desk lay the collection of documents, carefully typed and containing a font of classified information, it was an update on current affairs, the source Lord Fenris relied on for warning, the ear listening for fins in the ocean. It would be this Golconda of the governmental arsenal which would incite a storm of propaganda and ascertain public support for a war aiding the Agujeron leftist insurgency.

A small yet potent force of naval vessels were designated Fleet Phol, after a hasty yet diligent hunt for the hardiest soldiers that could be found the stalwart expedition headed towards the liberation of the oppressed amid wild cheering and a rainfall of bright garlands.

OoC: Please excuse my ignorance of military technology, but I'm basically sending the equivalent of:

2 x Vanguard Class Submarines Mudhol and Hound
The Trident Missile Tubes (Of Which there are 16 per vessel) are replaced by the capability to fire roughly this kind of thing;
Boeing Harpoon Block II Cruise Missiles
Tomahawk Land Attack Missile (TLAM)

USS Tarawa (LHA-1) Dakelh
8 x AV-8B+ Harrier II Plus (Aeroplanes)
20 x UH-60L Black Hawks (Helicopters)
2400 Soldiers Discluding Crew.

This may seem eclectic, and probably isn't very effective, but my knowledge is very limited. Is it acceptable if I join the roleplay?

Official Diplomatic Communique

http://img451.imageshack.us/img451/307/officialsealtwspxk5.gif
To: Allanea
From: The World Soviet Party

We Soviets do not take kindly to our allies being attacked, stand down now or we'll be forced to intervene.

Signed,
Alexander Nevskij, TWSP's Minister of Foreign Affairs.

Official Diplomatic Communique

http://img451.imageshack.us/img451/307/officialsealtwspxk5.gif
To: Allanea
From: The World Soviet Party

We Soviets do not take kindly to our allies being attacked, stand down now or we'll be forced to intervene.

Signed,
Alexander Nevskij, TWSP's Minister of Foreign Affairs.


Official Allanean Response:

We would like you to remember we are members of the GASN. We have forwaded copies of this message to other GASN nations, so they can witness how much you value your membership in that organization.

Official Allanean Response:

We would like you to remember we are members of the GASN. We have forwaded copies of this message to other GASN nations, so they can witness how much you value your membership in that organization.

Official Soviet Response

Still, you are attacking one of my allies, GASN or not, I am obliged to defend him.

FROM THE OFFICE OF THE GOVERNING COUNCIL OF THE GLOBAL ALLIANCE OF SOVEREIGN NATIONS: ILLIORIAN DELEGATE
At this time, I must warn The Soviet World Party from taking any action against the Sovereign Nation of Allanea, as it would constitute a breach of the GASN charter, and would require other GASN nations to respond if requested to the event. Plus... not that smart to try and attack a Havenic nation.

Port Al-Kalantar

It was late at night, the small group of soldiers did not have any idea why they were being called up for. They had fought in the Great Revolution of Mozanderan and had been chosen to join the most elite of the elite. They had been chosen to join the Palang "Tiger" division. These men had risked their lives in human wave attacks, battles using chemical warfare, and months behind enemy lines. They were a rowdy bunch, preferring to yell Allahu-Akbar as they begun their night operations instead of going for a stealthy route. Yet they were the best Mozanderan had.

Their orders were to board midget submarines and land at Puerto De La Revolucion. They were to assist the revolutionaries from any attempts to dislodge their presence.

Sari Air Force Base

5 squadrons consisting of 20 Brand new MiG35's (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mikoyan_MiG-35) which were acquired since the founding of the new government in 2007. They were paid for by the selling of more than 90% of Mozanderan's natural gas in the first month.

The pilots inside were not new however. They had fought the enemies on the borders of Mozanderan. In the war they launched suicide attacks on carrier groups; launching sunburn missiles and ramming their planes into carriers and frigates when they were out of ammo.

The government had hoped they would not resort to that this time.

They had one goal; To acheive air superiority over Agujero to allow troops and supplies to come for the Revolutionaries and supporters.


OOC: Hi guys :D first rp here so please give me some tips

FROM THE OFFICE OF THE GOVERNING COUNCIL OF THE GLOBAL ALLIANCE OF SOVEREIGN NATIONS: ILLIORIAN DELEGATE
At this time, I must warn The Soviet World Party from taking any action against the Sovereign Nation of Allanea, as it would constitute a breach of the GASN charter, and would require other GASN nations to respond if requested to the event. Plus... not that smart to try and attack a Havenic nation.

Official Soviet Response

"Warn us from taking any action?", here I am, a member of both GUSN and GASN, a nation from GASN (namely Allanea) attacks my allies in Hallad, cant I stand by them?
If any, I wont be the one to deliver the first blow, if a war has to be fought, they'll be the ones to start it.

The young Revolutionary wiped the sweat from his brow as he hurled the last body into the ditch. Turning around, he accepted a canteen from a comrade and drank deeply. He could not help but smile as he turned his eyes towards the top of the hill and saw the red flag of the Revolution waving proudly from atop the palatial estate of the mayor of Real.

He lit a cigarette and sat down on the back of a truck. Around him lay the carnage of war: the burned hulks of tanks and trucks, ruined houses struck by artillery shells, and the mangled bodies of friends and foe; the former were lain in a neat row on the side of the road, awaiting burial, while the latter lay rotting in the mass grave the young soldier was about to begin filling.

In the streets that wound their way up the hillside, and down again to the port below, the sounds of celebration were brewing into a cacophony. After a short fight, the government forces had entered a general retreat, many surrendering, the rest deserting into the jungle. The commander of the garrison had reportedly met his fate by a bullet from Commandante Esparza’s own rifle. Now, the grateful citizens of the town offered their liberators food and shelter.

A mile away, Esparza, who had not actually participated in the battle, lit a cigarette of his own and pored over a map of the surrounding area. Across the channel lay Puerto Esperanza, where De Los Santos maintained only a tentative control. From there, the rebel armies could converge, fuelled by recruits following the recent victories, and march directly on San Tomas. The civil war would then be over, and the foreign pigs would be driven back.

The metallic clank of the grenade landing on the floor through the second story window made the several government troops turn their heads. Several yells were heard as they attempted, in futility, the dash out of the room just before the explosion killed each of them. It was hard to believe the opposing forces still had no clue where the advance team was, as they popped up from the small culvert they found themselves covered in to take shots at the rather close government forces. The rest of Shamrock Company was still firing from beyond the woodline, effectively neutralizing nearly all immediate threats.

"Highway junction clear, cease fire," Specialist Wes Gilbert said into his COBRA, indicating that all government forces at the entrance to the city were either dead or falling back.

"Howard, company inbound," replied CDR Hollis, as the rest of the members of Shamrock company began marching through the treeline and into the open, about a hundred yards to the roadblock which, just minutes ago, was fully operational.

As the troops reached the city limits, they heard a voice coming over a loudspeaker. However, the voice was in Spanish, which none of the members of Shamrock could understand. The advance team broke around the corner of one of the many buildings the company was taking cover behind, and within seconds, shots were being exchanged between the advance team and opposing troops.

"White seal, white seal. Repeat, white seal, white seal," SPC Gilbert repeated into his COBRA, signifying the sight of opposition forces surrendering. The rest of the company poured from behind their respective buildings, and to the area where a massive amount of government troops were with their hands up, looks of fear in their eyes.

"Any of ya'll speak English," CDR Hollis yelled. A few of the troops raised their hands, and Hollis promptly picked one out, motioning for him to come closer.

"You speak English, right?" CDR Hollis reiterated.

"Yes sir," the man replied, obviously confused.

"How many men do you have remaining?"

"Um, we counted four hundred and twelve, sir," the man replied, nervously.

"Well you tell your men to retreat to whatever your desired location is. We suggest you go home and be with your family, or something of that nature. But whatever you do, get out of here. This town is ours now," Hollis said calmly.

"You... you are not going to kill us," the man replied, about to cry and totally confused as to why they were being treated humanely instead of being massacred in the streets.

"No... not today," came the reply, as the man went about telling his comrades the news. Shamrock Company watched as the men left the city, and proceeded to count the dead. Two hundred eleven came the final count of government troops killed in action, with a Shamrock fatality rate of zero. The men found relatively nice homes to catch some rest in, as Hollis got on the radio to Esparza.

"General Esparza, Commander Hollis. We've taken Florida. Numbers are: two hundred eleven government forces dead. We had four hundred twelve surrender, which we had retreat from the city. Expect no flank from this side," he said, awaiting a response. It was a sunny day. A perfect day for golf.

Puerta De La Revolucion

The men of the "Palang" Division walked onto the sand of the beach. They were equipped with the standard FAMAS of the Mozanderan special forces. All they saw on the rocky terrain was a small church. As they approached the church they heard the roaring engines of the MiG 35's. They had apparently taken over the south eastern regions skies. The soldiers suddenly heard gunshots coming from inside the church. Lt. Ali Rahani gave the go ahead; the church was to be cleared. A small man place c4 on the massive doors and quickly ran for cover. The doors exploded causing pieces of wood to be tossed around. Quickly 5 men stormed the church. An armed man was standing their with his AK-47 and 3 butchered bodies around him. One was in a military officers garments. He yelled some spanish and flailed his gun around but was subdued by a shot from the Lt's usp. They had stumbled onto a Revolutionary "prison" of some sorts. There were tools used for torture and the Liutenant didn't like this. He reported this to the higher ups.


Meanwhile in the air the MiG's had gunned down a government helicopter apparently hiding under the guise of a medic copter. It spiraled down to the forest beneath it and made short work of the tent near which it had rose up from. The camp was in flames.

A few bombing runs on Puerto Esperanza gave no good news except a government fuel truck that turned its armored column into a massive heap of burning wreckage.


Inside Puerto De La Revolucion a man, who looked not to different from a cowboy from the old westerns was walking around. Lance Corporal Emad Hussein approached him and spoke in tattered english,"You are country sniper yes?"

Dakelh sliced through the waves with a certain cold inevitability, information whirring between the combined reconnoitring capabilities of the vessels to provide as detailed an analysis as they could of Agujero.

Sergeant Leopold of Squad 15 smoked another cigarette, watching the gleaming network of sparks dance down his smoke, minute fireflies of blazing brilliance which devoured his battered rollie nearly as fast as he did. Exhaling in one ferocious stream of relentless pleasure, he eyed the remnants of his drag contently as it twisted and dissipated on the salty breeze. He took a silent pause to savour this moment of calm, the gentle lapping of waves combined with the embracing moonlight soothing his apprehensive mind.

His deft fingers reduced his moment of joy to a feeble dogend which he carefully placed into a soft leather pouch at his belt, luxuries were already becoming scarce. After the crew witnessed violent flashings from the land and had seen with clarifying scopes the wreckage of cities the realisation that they may not return was ingrained in the mind of every soldier. In such nerve-wracking circumstances cigarettes do not last long.

He turned his dark eyes to the collective light of an entire city, all the lives inside, all the things they could achieve, but a glimmer of flickering streetlamps seen afar as tiny targets of resplendence. He gazed across at Puerto Esperanza thoughtfully; tomorrow that place would become a veritable Hell of crimson and screaming metal, a gaping maw of chattering death which he would have to help cleave a path into. But right now, in the mild breeze which ruffled the Lifesbloodite flag far above, it could be mistaken for any city within the Empire, with no hint of cumbersome mortality about the place it seemed remote from hostilities and somehow peaceful. He couldn't help grinning at the generosity of Fate, which had granted him this respite.

"May we meet again." he murmured to the still night, before a thought flourished, he untied his pouch raising it to his nostrils and smelling the rich tobacco, the scent of the anxious room where he'd waited for the arrival of his son, the scent of home, he threw it deep into the clear waters. Laughing heartily as it languidly sank. "A gift." he informed the silence before wearily rising, shaking his head at his own absurdity while a small smile played at his lips he headed to his quarters and the bliss of sleep.


From: Fleet Phol
Of: Lifesblood
To: The Agujeron Rebels

We are poised off the bay of Puerto Esperanza and are prepared to give you assistance in the capture or demolition of this city. We have significant airstrike capabilities and would appreciate a list of targets and/or co-ordinates for our weaponry. If you have radio equipment which can be utilised during combat then use the passcode:

3687 Hammerfall to indicate you would like a missile-strike, co-ordinates or significant descriptions would have to be provided.

We also have aviation transport in the form of Black Hawk Helicopters, and reqest we be informed on your tactics so that we may work in concert with your forces when deploying our own troops.

We would like to extend the offer of two Black Hawks, piloted by our own men [Of which we have selected pilots who are fluent in Spanish.] to provide transportation and possible fast attack elements for your forces/command.

We appreciate the delicacy of this situation and would like to offer you our assurances that we will do everything within our power to aid your efforts towards liberation from both tyranny and negative international influence.

Please respond as soon as possible.

Captain Wentworth

-End Of Transmission-

Allanean-captured abandoned fort at the eastern coast of Agujero

(OOC: This is the fort which I described capturing in former posts)

From the fort already waved the banner of the Furry Airborne Division: "With Bullets, Teeth, and Claws!".

The Airborne troops here were frenziedly at work. They felled trees, they unwrapped portable runways, they cleared land for cargo aircraft. Already above them the sky was filled with parachutes – the Daeron Airborne Division was being airlifted in to support them in their work.

No advance, however, had yet been made from this point. Why precisely – remained a mystery so far for anybody outside the Allanean Joint Chiefs of Staff, but they had their plan.

Soon, it would begin to hatch.

Off the shore of Puerto de La Revolucion, aboard the First Force Projection Fleet

A Force Projection Fleet is a truly formidable force. Almost a small navy unto itself, it packs a various amount of ships, from hospital ships, to helicopter assault ships, to cruisers and immense superdreadnaughts. As of now, the Allanean Primary Force Projection fleet – the Pride And Joy Of the Republic – was parked a mere thirty kilometers away from the shore.

Now, Allanea would orchestrate her strike.

Standing on the bridge of the USS Allanea was Grand Admiral Vyacheslav Brousilov. He was dressed in an immaculate Navy dress uniform, the new kind introduced during the last military reforms. Every rank, every medal, every insignia he wore was polished to a mirror shine.

He drew his symbol of office – a long naval officer's saber – and, using it as a pointer, poked at a point on the map in front of him.

"At my command, proceed to bombardment."

The thirty Elusive class battleships turned their immense sixteen-inch cannon – 12 per ship, and 360 in total – towards the rebel positions around the city. With satellite-assisted high-accuracy gunnery, the chance that civilians would be injured would be reduced as far as possible – though of course, unfortunately, it would not be reduced to zero.

"Salvo!"

The battleships were momentarily clad in smoke and fire as the first salvo was fired. A second later, the five-inch cannon aboard the battleships added their own input to the process.

"This was Act One. Now, Act Two."

From the aircraft carriers of the Fleet, approximately fifty fighter-bombers took off. They covered the skies above the city in high-altitude patrols, evading fire from shoulder launched missiles. Their mission was merely not to allow enemy aircraft to prevent the real attack.

From the helicopter carriers, hundreds and hundreds of attack helicopters took off. They pelted the rebel positions with a hail of 20mm rounds, guided missiles and light 250-kilogram bombs. The helicopters acted in waves – once one group of helicopter would have to end it's barrage due to fuel constraints, another would come in to make life hell for the rebels.

And yet, surprisingly, despite their obscene firepower already demonstrated, the Allaneans refused to simply destroy the city.

Instead, another group of aircraft flew over Puerto de La Revolucion, dropping MRE's and leaflets.

The message on the leaflets was also broadcasted on several radio frequencies:

Friends! Agujerans! You are being lied to!

You are told that you are being oppressed by a cruel dictator – which is in itself true. But the lie is that you are told that this dictator represents capitalism, and that the only way to liberate yourself from capitalism is to submit to communism. That is a lie. By submitting to Marxism, you are merely replacing poverty and oppression under one name for poverty and oppression under another name.

We in Allanea offer you a true alternative – a democratic republic that protects the rights of all men to life, liberty, and property.

We understand your frustration and hatred of the dictator, and will help you to remove him. Moreover, any Agujeran of any political strike that chooses to abandon the current side he's fighting for – Marxist or Fascist – will be given pay, lodging, clothing and weapons, equally with an Allanean soldier if he chooses to fight alongside the Allanean Army.

We understand your poverty, and are even now helping to alleviate it – as you see by the aid packages we are dropping even now.

We will do more:

We are hereby announcing a ten million Universal Standard Dollar reward for the heads of Bernardo Esparza, the supposed leader of the Marxists, or Marshall De Los Santos. Those who deliver them alive into our hands will be rewarded similarly. A similar reward will be distributed between the personnel of any of Agujero's forts if they lower the flags of fascism or communism, and take the side of Democracy and Freedom..

"Why the hell did you put that in there for, Sir?" – asked an underling after the message was broadcast.

"One, it will engender fear and mistrust in the ranks of both the communist and the fascist leadership. Second, it may indeed end up in having a fort surrender or one of these people killed – by either someone who truly supports democracy or who wants the money. That'll give us a huge advantage."

"Hehehe. Strangling them with the invisible hand, are we?"

"Indeed. Now we wait."

how did you manage to slip away from my fighters??

how did you manage to slip away from my fighters??

I did not. As a matter of fact I mentioned sending out fifty fighters to engage yours.

The masked figure, who was known to the rebels only as Scout, stood alone in the night. After tending to the wounded of that night's battle, Scout wondered if it was wise to join the rebel force, but it was too late now. Scout had helped to organize a resistance group of farmers two years ago, and when the revolution started, she saw her chance to make greater change. She went and joined Esparza's rebel force, accompanied by twenty-eight armed farmers, out of which nineteen were now alive.

She would always defend this land against the imperialists, but she owed no alliance to the Marxists. Scout hoped that at the end of the revolution, a new order would emerge, one that would protect its people under law and give them justice and freedom. But if another dictatorship emerged, if the revolutionaries became brutal executioners and the liberation turned into a cruel game of elimination, she was ready to leave them in a moment.

She heard a bell ringing mournfully, and started back with a curse. Another of the wounded rebels had died.

... i believe you are godmoding. you are not paying attention to what is happening. In your thing you sent FIGHTER BOMBERS which are not as good as singe role fighters. Also you cannot approach a rebel port guarded by airplanes and troops without being spotted.

... i believe you are godmoding. you are not paying attention to what is happening. In your thing you sent FIGHTER BOMBERS which are not as good as singe role fighters. Also you cannot approach a rebel port guarded by airplanes and troops without being spotted.

1. I know they are not as good. How is sending inferior equipment godmoding? My navy simply does not posess single-role fighters. Now, if you will please post actually attacking my fighter-bombers with your fighters, that'd be good.

2. Agujero had already stated previously my ships are already in his national waters, and I have repeatedly stated they are heading there. I never stated they are unspotted, or anything like that. As a matter of fact, a battlegroup of this size CANNOT go anywhere unspotted. Yes, it is there and you likely know it is there. You had - and still have - the opportunity - to ICly act on this knowledge. By, like, attacking me or something.

Good Afternoon Bhkistan, this is Grogirt Pollymeb reporting from The Main Square, Bhk. (capital)
Bhkistan's King Chris I and Prime Minister Michel Istuban have met over the possibility of sending 200 troops. Further information has just come through that Bhkistan may also send £75 million ($148.2 million) to Agujera which is currently suffering from severe poverty and continuous fighting.
Deputy Prime Minister Paul Nuve, "We need to solve the problem in Agujera, it's spinning out of control and we are going in there to help topple the dictator and to stablise the country and the economy."
This today is big news for Bhkistan which has only ever deployed its troops on our very own island of Austranova in 1971 when Bhkistan's last rebel group fell at Port Easter. Whether the people of Agujera will want the money or the troops is the question we are asking now. Standing in for King Chris I, do you, Agujera, need our offers?

[This is getting stupid. Settle crap through TG or an OOC thread or something. Enough with the OOC talk in an IC thread, morons. Plus, there are becoming too many posts without any interaction with the thread originator, also being the country wherein all IC movements are taking place. Not to mention the number of players is growing into an outrageous number - I may be pulling all my forces out soon since it's getting so childish. They have their combat experience, which is all I wanted in the first place.]

OOC: Sorry for the inactivity, guys. I've been out of town. I'll catch up as soon as possible with replies and such.

OOC:

2. Agujero had already stated previously my ships are already in his national waters, and I have repeatedly stated they are heading there.

I'm sorry, I'm a bit confused. Are they already in my nat'l waters, or are they headed there?

[This is getting stupid. Settle crap through TG or an OOC thread or something. Enough with the OOC talk in an IC thread, morons. Plus, there are becoming too many posts without any interaction with the thread originator, also being the country wherein all IC movements are taking place. Not to mention the number of players is growing into an outrageous number - I may be pulling all my forces out soon since it's getting so childish. They have their combat experience, which is all I wanted in the first place.]

Don't pull out, SC. The dynamic between your forces and the revolutionaries is priceless. It would be a shame to lose that.

OOC: I meant, I wrote several times I was going there, and then you said my ships have already arrived. And then I made an RP post based on them having arrived already. I hope them being there now is all right with you. I'm just kind of waiting on the reaction of your people to my propaganda now.