NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This thread loosely ties into this one (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=532144) as a side story.

After one riot outside of one of the New Vantanian factories, the public stopped the public demonstrations, but that didn't mean that everything was over. The Siriusan people still held protests but now they were in the outskirts of the cities, away from the factories which were now protected by the police. Protests outside of factories were now forbidden by law, a law which would be enforced should it be necessary.



"We need to throw these oppressors off of our backs!" A man with a bullhorn screamed from atop a stage to a mass of people with protest signs. "We are a free people, we will not be held down by these foreigners! Why must we endure hardships while people of other places enjoy luxury? Have we not earned it? After over ten years of depression and recession, do we not deserve something for bringing back Siriusa? I say it is time we rise up against these tyrants! Rise up against those who would keep Siriusa down to help their own wants!"

The crowd erupted into a roar of cheering.

"Not but a few years ago, we tried to purge these creatures from our land!" He went on shouting. "You all know how that ended. Death, mayhem, Siriusans suffering even more while the foreigners raked in the cash! Well, no more! Even here, in the capital they are protesting and rising up against the Ezaltians! I say it's time we rise up against the New Vontanians! Show them that they cannot tread on us as if we were cobblestones! We are people, we are Siriusans!"

The crowd roared again.

Off in the distance, police sirens were audible, as well as gunshots.

"You hear that?" The man yelled, wildly motioning in the direction of the noise. "You hear what they are doing to our countrymen, our brothers, our fathers, our sons? Will we stand for this treatment?"

"No!" the crowd chorused in unison. Across the motley mob, one could see several people walking around and distributing firearms.

"Then I say, it is time to end this! We have never had a better chance, never! While the police are distracted by trying to protect the Ezaltian embassy, we have a clear shot at the soft underbelly of the beast! Let's go and rid Siriusa of these monsters forever!"

The crowd once again let of an earsplitting roar, and slowly shirfted, turning its mass towards the city, to which it set off at a run. The people, enraged by the hardships that had befallen them, were no longer individuals. They were just part of the mob.

The mob ran up the streets, stopping traffic, frightening pedestrians, ald leaving destruction in its wake. Street vendors' carts overturned, cars broken and dented, windows smashed, and people beaten.

The armed mob entered a frenzy when the Buy & Sell, Inc. factory came into sight. Almosst everyone was armed, from bludgeons to automatic weapons, and those that weren't were ready to fight tooth and nail to tear the foreigners limb from limb.

A few gunshots directed at the factory at first, then more. Soon, a rain of bullets from the crowd towards the factory.

The mob wanted blood. It would take no prisoners, give no quarter.

The factory masters had seen the attack on the Ezaltian embassy on the television. They had tasted the unrest in the air. Ever since the initial attack by the Siriusans, and then another attack by some group of mercenaries, defences had been boosted.

As the crowd neared, an earpiercing alarm filled the factory. Immediantly following that blinding flood lights illuminated everything in a five hundred yard radius. Guards flooded out onto the wall, starting to shoot into the crowds. The gate was sealed with ten inches of solid steel. Four tower turrets swerved to face the crowd, firing large caliber shells into the masses.

Should the mob manage to break down the wall, they would find a stretch of trapped land, with barbed wire, pit falls, and foot traps. They would either slow down considerably and be taken out, or would continue at their pace, covering all the traps with the corpses of their comrades. Once they got past that they would find a short strech of peacful grass, were bloodthirst dogs would charge them and rip them limb from limb. Meanwhile guards would be firing on them from the ditch directly surrounding the factory. Then they would enter the industrial complex.

The mob charged the gate, ignoring their comrades falling left and right from gunfire from the factory guards. Some of the bodies were trampled in the chaos - others were used a shields from the rain of bullets. A few people in the mob lit molotov cocktails and hurled them up at the guards on top of the wall, some smashing on the wall, others sailing over. Most of the rest of the mob started firing whatever weapons they had at the guards on the wall.

Makeshift mortars were set up, using PVC pipe and homemade explosives. With a loud Bang! a ball of iron was sent sailing towards the wall. More explosions followed as the mob's small mortars fired anything from rocks to cannonballs to small homemade shells.

In the back, near the mortars, someone grabbed one of the more powerful explosives and and a cocktail. He started through the mob towards the front, ducking below the other rioters to avoid gunfire.

The turrets swerved around crazily, shooting at the mortars and their operators. Meanwhile, on the wall the guards continued raining fire down on the rioters. Getting desperate, they had started to chuck fragmentation grenades down below, causing damage to the mortars and killing many. Still, they couldn't hold the position much longer. The combined assault of mortars and cocktails was causing parts of the concrete to break off, falling and killing the people below.

OOC: Interesting, if you have anyone show up near the Soviet Embassy, I'll start handing out AK-47s and Mortars to the mobs, covertly, of course =p

The turrets swerved around crazily, shooting at the mortars and their operators. Meanwhile, on the wall the guards continued raining fire down on the rioters. Getting desperate, they had started to chuck fragmentation grenades down below, causing damage to the mortars and killing many. Still, they couldn't hold the position much longer. The combined assault of mortars and cocktails was causing parts of the concrete to break off, falling and killing the people below.

The giant turrets fired the shells into the crowd and at the mortars. Whenever a turrent fired at a mortar, the operators would scream and run for safety, sometimes grabbing the mortar, other times leaving it behind.

The grenades came as a shock to the rioters. Shrapnel ebmedded itself in the tightly packed bodies - some alive, some dead. As the number of dead climbed, so did the number of dead being used as shields against fire from above.

The man with the explosive reached the wall, now carrying a body on his back to protect himself. He frantically dug at the dirt by the side of the gate, trying to dig a small hole under the wayy in which to put the explosive. All around him was chaos. Everyone in a while the body on his back would shake and a spout of blood would shoot up as another bullet embedded itself in the corpse.

He was done. He put the explosive under the wall and pulled out an unlit Molotov Cocktail. He put it in the hole with the explosive and fumbled in his pocket for a lighter. He pulled it out, lit the wet rag, dropped his meat shield, and ran for cover. He started dodging back and forth between rioters shooting up at the guards on the wall when something hit him in the back, throwing him forward.

He landed flat on the ground face-down and coughed. blood. He looked up at the riot avobe him, the boots pounding towards him across the concrete, not caring whether they stepped on dirt, grass, concrete, or man. He was done for.

The explosion was big, tearing down some twenty feet of wall. Flying corpses, guards, and concrete, all flaming were hurled into the mob and backwards onto the obstacle field. A few of the guards from the still standing part of the wall dropped down onto the rubble, shooting as they led a bayonet charge on the crowd. While they did that guards poured down from the walls, shooting at the crowd from the standing wall just near the fallen wall, and the others started navigating the obstacle field, making their way to the ditch in front of the factory.

The people tried to dodge out of the way of the flying blocks of concrete and flaming bodies, but with the rioters as tightly packed as they were, dozens were hit by the projectiles.

The crowd surged forward, pushing towards the hole in the wall and the guards standing there. The chatter of automatic fire filled the air as those in the mob who were armed fired at the men on the ground and on the wall. Heedless of the fire from the guards, the mob pushed its front ranks up to the hole in the wall, not caring about the gunfire all around or the guards on the ground with rifles and bayonets.

The bayonet equipped guards held their ground, charging forward and holding the crowds, impaling, then shoving the corpses off the blade, and then repeating the process. Covering them were the guards on the walls, shooting anyone with grenades. Meanwhile the turrets rained down powerful shells in the narrow opening, killing both guards and rioters.

While there was a valiant stand at the gap in the wall the escaping guards had managed to get out of the obstavle field and into the ditch with the other guards. Also, the factory owner worked on his computer, drawing a red box around the area the fighting was at. Numerous red dots, indicating guards, were in the box, and with the click of a button all explosives on their bodies would, well, explode. Of course, they would have to die first.

The New Vontanians were much better prepared and equipped than the Siriusans had predicted. What had started as a great mass of people had lost nearly a third of its people to the guards' ferocious defense. The bloodsoaked ground was a testament of the continuing struggle.

The Siriusans pushed forward, pushing so close to the guards with bayonets that even those became useless. At this point, those in the front fought like crazed animals, tearing hair, ripping flesh, biting skin. Anything to draw blood, anything to kill. No sooner did one man attatch his teeth to a guard's neck or a guard insert his bayonet into a rioter's belly did a shell from the turrets erase their existance from the present and future.

The Siriusans at the back still kept using the mortars. Set it down, load, fire, pick it up and run again before the turret fires. Now they were aiming at the large turrets firing shells at the mob.

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Official Siriusan Communiqué

To: New Vontanas, Buy & Sell Inc.
From: Siriusa

Dear Sir(s) and/or Madame(s):

We have been made aware of the situation at one of the factories in Tenarius, Siriusa. We will do anything in our power to contain the rioters. As we speak, we are deploying fmilitary forces to the site of the riot. We intend to halt the rioters and restore order.

Sincerely
Jacob L. Sirius
Prince of Siriusa

Chang Hu
First Advisor to the Prince
Head of Military Arm
Siriusa

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Closing in on the scene of the mob were five hundred armed personel of the SAA, eight Behemoth II Main Battle Tanks, and fifteen Apache helicopters for air support. In addition, a pair of SB-22 Sariel Strategic Bombers took off from the closest Siriusan Air Force base, loaded with bombs full of tear gas.

Seeing that the guards at the wall were dead, the factory owner pressed the button. Fragmentation grenades at the breach in the wall, and in the middle and back of the mob (from the wall explosion) suddenly detonated. The explosion was large, and shrapnel flew everywhere. Mortar operators would be surprised as from out of nowhere they were hit, and the explosions and shrapnel in the tightly packed middle and front would cause serious damage.

However, this alone would not stop them from getting to the factory. A field filled with pit falls, barbed wire, and foot traps would take many casualties. In their rush, those that tripped on the barbed wire or on foot traps* would be trampled by the others, and the pits quickly filled up with those that couldn't jump far enough.

Also the turrets kept firing, one always unloading into the chokepoint at the wall. The others fired at the back, thinning the herd considerably. The guards in the ditch with the wooden spikes pointed outwards from them continued firing, semi-automatic fire, into the crowd. With such a huge crowd jammed so tightly they couldn't miss.

However the factory owner wasn't waiting around. He had repositioned the flood lights to aim into the crowds, particulary the mortar operators. The light was blinding, and many in the crowds wouldn't be able to see, especially the mortar operators. For the front, this wasn't such a big deal. It would just mean they couldn't see the traps, causing a higher mortality rate. For the middle, it would just make them have to go slower through the wall, allowing the turrets to take more of them out. However for the mortar operators in the back it would mean they wouldn't be able to see what they were shooting at, so they would either go to cautiously and get killed by the turrets, or they would go fast and take a risk of shooting into the mob.

Meanwhile, reinforcements had arrived, from the tank and helicopter factories nearby. They waited in the shadows however, seeing what the military would do.

*basically a small hole covered in grass, with a bear trap inside. You step in and activate the plate, sending the jaws to take a bite off of your leg. You either can't keep moving as you lost your foot or you fall. Either way you get trampled.

The mob screamed and pushed forward, but those in front hesitated. Explosions filled the night and the bright lights filled the rioters' vision. With the turrets firing shells at the mob and the guards firing at those in front, it was starting to look bleak. Some started shouting, "Back! Run away!" but their voices were lost amid the noise.

A feeling of panic started to spread through the mob. They could tell that it was hopeless. Near the back, some stopped pushing and instead tried to run away. More followed, and soon the entire mob had reversed its direction, running back away from the factory.

"They didn't get through," Colonel Anders said, looking through his binoculars at the approaching mob. He and the military had arrived not but a few minutes ago but they were already set up in a huge semicircle around the factory, fencing in the rioters.

"Damn, that puts us back one step," he growled. "Marines, ready! Fire!"

The chatter of machine gun fire from the marines was augmented by the sound of the tanks launching shells into the middle of the crowd. In less than a matter of minutes, not a man from the riot was standing.

Anders sighed. His boss was not going to be happy with him. They were, at the very least, supposed to assist the riot and then exterminate them, the main goal was to destroy the factory, to remove all foreign influence from the capital. Oh well, we'll just have to try again later.

He raised the bullhorn again and spoke loudly and clearly to the guards out front. "I would like to see your boss. No harm will come to him, we just need to talk."

OOC: I'll be taking vacation, so I'll probably have a response by saturday.

OOC: Alright. See you then, have a good time.

The turrets and guns stopped, yet there was still the heavy fog created by the bullets, tinged red with the blood of many Siriusans. Weapons were pointed wearily at the military, but no shots were fired. The helicopters and tanks hiding behind a hill from the Siriusans, none of them moving or hovering, silently aimed were they could do the most damage, just in case. The only thing that broke the tense silence was the sound of a cart creaking towards the Siriusans.

The man in the cart, actually pouring out of the cart, was the factory owner. He was extremly obese, reaking of many varieties of cheese, and had a dirty beard over his face. His hair was greasy, from natural and artificial sources, and flies buzzed around him. The Siriusans could see that it would take a full clip into the chest of this... man to get to his overburdened heart.

The cart halted in front of the military, the four body guards on either side sighing as they stopped pushing. The man belched loudly, a ferocious stench hitting the military, before speaking in a tired voice, "What do you want of me?"

Who made this fatass boss? Anders wondered to himself. It looks like he's never woked a day in his life, unless you count moving a fork from a pate to your mouth as work.

"We need to talk politics with you." Anders's eyes watered as the hot steamy blast of air from the man hit hiim full in the face. "Now, we offer our most heartfelt apologies for the damage that the rioters caused your building and people but aside from that, that is all we can do." Silently Anders hoped that the factory had not yet heard what had happened to the Ezaltian embassy. "We request that you choose not to sue either the government or people of Siriusa."

In the night sky above Siriusa, flying through the cover of the clouds, a single B-1 Lancer bomber roared through the sky. It was armed with 3 Grand Slam earthquake bombs, each bomb capable of razing an entire building by hitting the right spot. Flying at a little under the speed of sound and at an altitude of 6700m, the bomber would be right over the factory in a little less than half an hour. With the cover of the clouds and the New Vantanians distracted, the bomber would go virtually undetected.

Back at the air force bases across Siriusa, hundreds of F-44 Interceptors were waiting with baited breath for news. If the New Vantanians deployed their own forces to intercept the bomber, the Interceptors would take to the skies like swarms of venemous flying insects.

The man sighed, little flecks of what looked like cheese flying out of his mouth and landing at the soldiers feet. "Don't play dumb with me, soldier..." The speech paused, and would pause many more times as his overworked lungs gulped in air, "We know of the Revolution... We are willing to make a deal... Siriusan wages will be raised... Siriusans will climb factory ranks... Siriusans will be free... Now, about that bomber..."

With that the helicopters stormed upwards en masse, blitzing towards the bomber as it came into range. They had waited for this moment, knowing that the military likely had forces they could pounce on them. Missles aimed at the bomber, while machine guns pointed warily down on the soldiers. The turrets on the factories wheeled their way up, also aiming at the bomber as it approached.

We've been found out, Anders thought to himself. That was clever of them. Now he was the one at the disadvantage. If they managed to launch the Interceptors, he and his men would be cut down rather quickly but if they didn't act, well, command wouldn't exactly be pleased. But hey, who said the Vantanians had to be completely eliminated.

"Glad we could come to some kind of common ground before things got messy," Anders said, maintaining his sangfroid. "But I'm hardly the one to be talking to about wages or ethical treatment. However, we could send down a representative in very little time if that's fine." Anders looked up into the sky at the rapidly climbing helicopters. The bomber was at such an altitude it could probably drop its business and be off before the helicopters got close enough, but that wouldn't end so well. "And I'll give the order for the bomber to turn if you call off the helicopters," Anders added. "I'd really hate to be at fault if we lost that pilot."

The man smiled a little, before saying in his wheezing voice, "Of course... a representative would be... most welcome in this... factory... I can easily... call off the... helicopters, but... be aware that... if that bomber... makes one move... he's dead... Now, give us... sometime to... prepare ourselves... for the... representative." He then, with great effort, lifted his arm to wipe off saliva from his mouth, sweating from the work.

Then, with a slight wave of his hand, making him sweat even more, he called off the helicopters. The helicopters instantly flew down, hovering at a ready position above the ground. The machine guns still pointed warily at the soldiers, but the missles were simply on stand-by.

Anders smiled like a snake. "I'm glad we could come to some sort of middle ground." He walked back to his men. "Call off the bomber," he ordered, "and get the Labor Boaard of Siriusa to send down a rep." The LBS leaned more toward the loyalist side of the government, and when the shit hit the fan, Anders was sure they would stay with the royal family. But that didn't mean there wasn't the occasional black sheep in the department.

Sarah Rockerfeller's father had served in the Siriiusan Air Force when he was alive and her husband served in the Navy. She was fiercely proud of her nation and would follow orders without asking anny questions at all. That's why she was the perfect tool for the military.

Sarah worked for the Labor Boaard of Siriusa, but her heart always lay with the military arm. It was no surprise to her that her boss called her late one evening to inform her that a high-ranking man in the army had called for a representative and since she worked best with the armed forces, she was their woman.

Two marines arrived at her doorstep in a Humvee. She got in, situated herself comfortably in the backseat, and then listened as the marines breifed her on what was going on.

The Humvee pulled up beside a line of marines encircling what would have looked like a factory, were it not for the rubble and bodies strewn everywhere.

"I am Sarah Rockerfeller from the Labor Board of Siriusa," she announced to the man standing in front of the factory. "Which one of you is the owner? I hear you haave a proposition you'd like to make."



Nearly seven kilometers above Siriusa, the lone B-1 bomber received orders to turn around and return to home base. The pilot did as he was told, despite being slightly baffled, but then again, he didn't join the military to analyze orders.

"I am." said the factory owner, before 'turning' to the commander, "How much... does she know?"

The mercenaries by now had walked forward from the factory, the logos of Buy & Sell clearly visible on their somewhat bloody uniforms. The helicopters were visible on the hill, their pilots lax, and the Buy & Sell logo also visible on them. Meanwhile, the tanks were still hiding behind the hill, ready to strike, though it didn't seem likely at the time.

Suddenly, descending from the clouds came an air ship, out of which a handsome looking man came, dressed in a pinstripe suit. He had blonde hair, expertly done, was lean, and had dazzling white teeth. "Ignore this man, I am the Head of Buy & Sell Interests in Siriusa. Now, what are your conditions?"

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. A human being! And from what it looked like, one who knew what he was talking about.

"Sarah Rockerfeller, LB of Siriusa," she said, extending her hand. She knew what the labor board would want her to get. Better working conditions for the Siriusans, better wages, and most importantly, the possibility to break through the glass ceiling. But of course, that wasn't exactly what she was shooting for.

"I have a proposition for you," she started. "The most pressing issue at hand is the revolution. As of now, the old regime is in danger of collapsing upon itself. What we would like is for Buy & Sell, Inc. to support the revolution. That is our main demand." She stopped. "Your turn."

"Of course," the son of Tucker said, smiling somewhat similar to a snake, "but what exactly do you want me to do? As you no doubt know already, we have a mercenary army that could speed things up a little, or we could support the Revolution economically, cutting off the loyalists from their supplies, and generally make being a loyalist unbelievably hard. Not to mention all we could do for the working class..."

"Of course," the son of Tucker said, smiling somewhat similar to a snake, "but what exactly do you want me to do? As you no doubt know already, we have a mercenary army that could speed things up a little, or we could support the Revolution economically, cutting off the loyalists from their supplies, and generally make being a loyalist unbelievably hard. Not to mention all we could do for the working class..."

"Oh, we won't need any help from the army. The coup will be short and bloody, it won't be a problem. But what would be nice is to cut off the loyalists and make life miserable for them. Also," she added, "If indeed you did help the Siriusan workers and advertised it as being because of the revolution, I'm sure many loyalists would quickly switch sides."

"Easily done. Minimum wages, unions, basic healthcare, and allowing them to join managment sound good? Hmmm, now that I think about it, we have one request. We want you to make the Commonalitarianism company look loyalist, and have some sort of attack on them. They're constantly trying to kill our workers, here and abroad. We'll even pay you if you do it, say, five hundred million USDs. Do we have a deal?

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "Commonalitarianism? I'm sure we could find some way to work that out. We have our people in the media, so that won't be a problem." She stopped for a moment and thought it over one last time.

"Deal," she said.

Smiling that Devil's smile of his, he reached out and grasped her hand, shaking it and saying, "Deal. The changes will become in effect dawn tomorrow. Good doing business with you."

OOC: I think it would be best to make a new thread, as Commonalitarianism probably isnt following this one.

Sarah smiled and shook his hand. "Glad we could come to a mutual agreement."

She walked back to the line of men. "It's all cleared up now," she announced. "Buy & Sell, Inc. is helping us with the revolution but our next target is Commonalitarianism." She walked up next to Anders and whispered in a hushed voice, "I don't entirely trust them in the long run, but right now I think they'd be an indispensable ally."

Anders just grunted.

OOC: I've TGed him about that and once he replies I'll make that thread.